#who's a saint nobody that's fucking who

[stylesunchained]

…

[valhalla-awaitsfor-us]

The tragedy of succession is that everyone is a villian. Shiv and Tom drama can`t be solved by point a finger at one of the two and saying "she/he is the one on the wrong" because they are both are. They both have been horrible people to each other. Putting the blame in just one goes against what the show wants to say.

[zamalie]

this one manager at my work is like determined to get everyone to hate her

[fairycrowbar]

as much as I love Baldur's Gate 3 it is. Baffling and infuriating that there is nobody online talking about how in a world as massive and populated as this game's there are 0 fat people in it, anywhere, at all, when we had body sliders in Fallout 3 fifteen fucking years ago

If you want Boy body type you get to be hunk and More Hunk and if you want Girl body type you get to be skinny or skinny with muscles and that's WEIRD, right? It's weird that no one's talking about that?? This is a bizarre regression from a game that advances so much and I would have happily waited another whole year of development for a body slider feature EDIT FOR PEOPLE WHO CHECK: I was wrong about Fallout 3 having body sliders! I was thinking about Fallout 4, which came out a decade ago! There's also Saint's Row 2, which had body sliders and released in 2008! so There are technically about 2 fat characters! Balthazar is fat and he's a hideous disgusting monster! The orc woman is fat and she's hideous and you're supposed to find it funny that she's having sex with her partner! This kinda sucks even more than not having any fat characters at all tbh!

[supercutszns]

rotten to the touch; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.

warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’

notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain

You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.

It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.

It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.

Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.

But everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.

But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?

Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.

You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.

During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.

He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.

Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.

Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.

Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.

The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.

But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.

An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”

“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.

You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”

You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.

The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.

Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.

To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?

They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:

“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”

You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.

“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.

Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.

The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.

He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.

“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.

“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”

It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”

You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”

His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”

You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”

The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.

“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”

“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.

He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”

It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”

“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”

Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.

But when you play, you play to win.

“You don’t know that,” he dares.

“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”

However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.

He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”

All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.

“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.

He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”

The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.

“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”

His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.

“One of?” You challenge.

“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”

You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”

His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”

There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.

His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.

His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”

“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”

Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.

He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.

He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”

“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.

He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”

Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.

It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.

He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.

After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.

“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.

“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”

“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”

“Thanks, dipshit.”

“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”

The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.

The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.

He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”

He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.

After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.

He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”

And damn it, you really do believe him.

[goldsainz]

❝ THE INTERNET WILL GO CRAZY ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . lando norris x reader, charles leclerc x ex!reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. request . . . “Could you write an imagine based on this video https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMM35uygV/ where reader was Lando new girlfriend (Charles's ex) and Alex was her bestfriend. Then reader was doing a live on Instagram and Alex appeared in the background and many fans made negative comments about her friendship and reader defended her.”

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . the internet loves to make up narratives when there are none.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . i changed the prompt a bit because i didn’t know how to write the live part, i hope that’s okay! no hate to the wags or drivers this is all fiction and not meant to represent any real life events 🫶 this isn’t my best work, but hopefully it’s still enjoyable!!!!

liked by landonorris, iamrebeccad and 1,308,297 others

yourusername barthelonaaa 🇪🇸❤️

view all 19,624 comments

landonorris omggg i made it to the dumpppp

⤷ yourusername i put that picture for oscar?

⤷ landonorris have oscar invite you to the paddock then🙄

landofan1 favourite wag ever

landofan2 not lando not wearing shoes

ynfan1 mother and father fr

ynfan2 her glow up since being in mclaren >>>

⤷ landofan3 thank the lord charles fumbled 🙏

ynfan3 she doesn’t know it but she’s my best friend

ynfan4 nobody is giving wag royalty quite like her

user1 how did lando bag her

⤷ landofan4 she’s everything, he’s just a guy who drives in circles

alexandrasaintmleux updated their story!

user21 responded to your story!

user21 get a job!!!! stay away from her!!!!

ynfan21 responded to your story!

ynfan21 not y/n doing charity work

ynfan22 responded to your story!

ynfan22 you could learn how to be girl’s girl 😘

ynfan23 responded to your story!

ynfan23 WHAT IS THISSSSS

user22 responded to your story!

user22 y/n mogged you BAD

ynfan24 responded to your story!

ynfan24 hope you know us y/n stand do not like you

ynfan25 responded to your story!

ynfan25 hope charles was worth fucking over your bestie

liked by landofan31, ynfan31 and 105,248 others

f1gossip Let the gossip begin! As we all know, Y/N L/N used to date Charles Leclerc and then broke up amicably in 2021. In 2023 she was spotted back in the paddock, hand-in-hand with Lando Norris. As for Charles Leclerc, he too, introduced his new girlfriend Alexandra Saint Mleux in 2023.

Now, what is the gossip you might ask? Well, Y/N and Alexandra used to be besties! The pair were very close, from comments in each others posts (even those with Charles in them, messy, we know) to various pictures of them hanging out.

The pair of friend stopped interacting with each other when Alexandra was first spotted in the 2023 Monaco Grand Prix. There had been rumours of the pair, but it wasn’t until there was actual confirmation that Y/N decided to go no-contact on social media (she never unfollowed her, though).

Shockingly, this past weekend they were spotted alongside other WAG’s hanging out! It even went as far as Alexandra uploading a story with her former best friend.

Do we think this is a new beginning of their friendship or is just attention-seeking, now that Alexandra has made her Instagram public? Let us know your thoughts below!

view all 1,578 comments

ynfan32 how coincidental that alexandra opens her account and suddenly she’s friends again with y/n🙄

user31 it’s definitely suspicious timing! maybe they realised it’s better to friends or just missed eachother

⤷ ynfan33 idc how much you miss me i’m not being friend’s with you if you’re with my ex

landofan32 honestly i’m here for this drama, f1’s getting boring we need some action

user32 i think it’s a new beginning, friendships go through rough patches (especially with exes involved)

ynfan34 i’m honestly curious who reached out to who

⤷ ynfan35 probs alexandra, can’t imagine y/n calling her up

user33 good for them if it’s real! it’s really none of our business what they do 🤷‍♀️

ynfan36 there’s a lot we don’t know about, but still this is all so fishy

charlesfan31 neither of them deserve charles, that’s for sure

⤷ ynfan37 girl charles is also a homie hopper, he has his own red flags so stay out of this😭

yourusername updated their instagram story!

responses have been disabled!

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hello! I just found your blog a couple days ago and I love your stuff!! I like that you mark everything as either being romantic or platonic (as an aromantic, I would like to say you are a saint for doing that) , and all the little pictures and memes bring me immense joy

I was wondering if you could do a platonic alastor x reader where reader makes/made a deal with Alastor. Like full on, sold-their-soul-to-him, no-takesies-backsies kind of a deal.

And like, maybe Alastor doesn't care about them that much at first, but they slowly grow on him? And reader doesn't like alastor that much either, but they have the same dark, chaotic energy and they just sorta click eventually. (and maybe some Rosie in there too??)

Omg you're so sweet for this 😭 Some of the platonic ones are my FAVE! Plus, I get that not everyone is looking for romance 🤧

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

Plus a little Rosie X Reader

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Cartoonish antics, little bit of violence, Alastor being Alastor, Reader lost their soul

Description: ☝️⬆️

You didn't think Alastor was serious when he said he wanted your soul, who tf does that??

Alastor, that's who, you dummy

To be fair, you totally thought you were going to win but imagine your shock when chains suddenly appeared on you like a leash

Bullshit bullshit bullshit

He has you working at the hotel with Husk and Niffty but you go out of your way to mess things up for him

If you're gonna be his pet then you're going to be a nightmare pet

Maybe he'll decide you're not worth the trouble and give your soul up?? That's a thing that happens right?

So you do little things to fuck with Alastor, big enough to annoy him but subtle enough to be an accident

He wants you to make him tea? Oops!! You've poured salt instead of sugar and now he's choking down salty tea because he's too proud to admit you pulled one over on him

Not him giving you a death glare from over his cup

"How is it~?"

"Delightful."

He wants you to wash the dishes? Fine but you're going to drop and break his favorite mug and every replacement he gets

You're so clumsy

You have to carry his bags?? Fine then-

No, you know what? Niffty can carry the bags she's much more strong and sturdy than she looks

You're no fun

The point is, if Alastor is going to make your life miserable because he owns your soul, you're going to give it right back

You don't even make the punishments fun for him

He doesn't stop seeing you as his worst deal until your both suddenly faced against the same foe

Some idiot Vox hired to pick a fight with Alastor and for some reason Alastor picked you to handle it

Watching you play with your prey reminded Alastor of himself, giving him a few good chuckles

By the time you were done, your opponent had practically pissed themselves to death, terrified by your maniacal nature

After the fight while you're being patched up, you and Alastor share a few laughs as you retell what happened

And then you two laugh about Vox

And then you two laugh about how your opponent died

Nobody else is laughing you sick fucks

There's a change in your dynamic after that day, the two of you becoming partners in crime

Those pranks and punishments you two used to use on each other? Now you're combining forces to use them on everyone else

Everyone thought things would be better once you two put aside your differences

But this is so much worse

They find excuses to just send you two out of the hotel so they can have some peace and quiet

You just feed off each other's worst energies and keep making each other worse

The only mitigating force for you two is Rosie, she's the only one who can get you two to slow it down

"Alright! Hold it!"

Not the two of you being scolded by her, looking like two little kicked puppies because Rosie won't let you two blow up a shop

But the owner is so sleazy!!!

No, you two can't pretend to be repairmen so you can break into people's homes and destroy their tvs

She won't even let you write fake fan mail to Vox, slowly gaining his trust as his number one fan only to shatter his heart in some devastating and public way

Wtf is wrong with you two

She just knows how best to handle the two of you and doesn't really mind how twisted the two of you get to be

She finds it adorable

You are besties by that point, an unstoppable force that wreaks havoc on anything in your path

Oh and sweet Rosie is there too

Holding the leashes for you two

You almost forget he owns your soul and so does he most days, the two of you seeing each other more and more as equals

Or at the very least, friends 🧡

Maybe you've earned your soul back

Nah, keep it

This was so fun! I really hope you liked it!

[loverboy1717]

So like, I would never WANT Magnus to get ate, but I would also love to see Abigail as a lyctor meeting Mercy and Augustine, and the saint of duty (who I won’t name cus bestie is still reading harrow.)

Like I know the power dynamics between gen 1 and gen 2 lyctors are from their literal ages, but I also truly think it’s from their perceived ages. Like Mercy looks late thirties and talks down to Ianthe and Harrow cus they are infants. What would happen if Abigail mother fucking Pent mobbed up ya know? How would Mercy handle that? Also would love to see Abigail and Augustine talk about the fifth. And for her to dunk on Jod and debunk all his bullshit. Plus she’d for sure clock the saint of duty and his best bud cus she’s observant af and pays attention to details nobody expects.

Basically Abigail Pent is my hero. Bye.

[somewhereincairparavel]

Literally where do people get the idea that Jason was full of himself and that he thought he was better than Percy? This is legit brought up in so many 'why-i-hate-jason-grace" arguments it just screams lack of reading comprehension and obvious Percy bias saltiness. Like just say you are bitter that Jason is written as percy's equal and that you want Percy to have nobody rival him 💀

Never once in his povs did he ever think about how much better he was, on the contrary it's just him not feeling good enough about himself. He and Percy NEVER said anything bad about eachother.

His and Percy's rival is just a joke between two powerful demigods who have rival dads, that's literally it. Even if Jason did indeed think he's better, so what about it? What's the big deal?

he has worked hard and accomplished great things, so he has like, every right to be confident in his power, stop acting like hes all weak and inferior when he canonically killed a titan with like his bare fucking hands till the point Krios swore vengeance on him. No he's not "weak" or morally inferior to Percy as a person. You are merely trying to cope. Not to mention the way people judge a character's worth SOLEY based on their abilities is a huge red flag in itself, but that's a discussion for another time.

he shouldve canonically had more achievments and power than he originally got in the books as a son of jupiter. but rick made Percy too OP and fumbled jason for the sake of keeping percy's spotlight intact. Has it ever dawned on people that Percy is shown to have cool abilities like bending tears but Jason is never shown to have abilities like controlling lungs? Yeah, that's authors privilege for ya.

Y'all put Percy in an obnoxiously high pedestal and that's not a good thing. It diminishes his flaws and makes him appear so saint like and Gary Stu even though he's not. the fact that ppl get so sensitive over their rivalry and try to belittle jason by making up scenarios (like claiming jason thinks he's superior and shit) and go around saying that to ppl to reduce his value DESPITE being well aware that he has like enough hate already, is so insanely petty. BOTH Jason and Percy deserve equal amounts of respect.

God forbid a teenage boy say he's better than the other as a joke, he's such a terrible, stuck up, and shitty person who deserved death for that, isn't he?

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 33

part 1 | part 32 | ao3

Chapter 8

cw: period-typical attitudes/language

"Steve," Robin hisses through the phone, and he can practically hear her nostrils flaring. "I have been trapped at Uncle Bobby and Aunt Deb's house for six. days." She drops her voice to a harsh whisper, the tone somehow even more disapproving at a lower volume. "HOW have you not kissed him yet??"

"It's not like I didn't try!" Steve throws his hands up; nearly knocks his broom to the floor. He's finally sweeping up the shards of glass in the living room, because he's tired of wearing shoes in his own house (and because at some point he's going to have to have the kids over whether he wants to or not. He's kind of surprised Erica hasn't shown up demanding to hang Christmas lights yet; that girl is aggressively festive.) "He was all 'ask me in the morning,' so I was gonna ask him in the morning! Not my fault it was Monday morning and his stupid uncle barged in yelling about how he was going to be late for school."

"You really shouldn't call him stupid," she interrupts, "that man is a saint."

"No, you’re right. Wayne's awesome."

It’s true. Wayne walked in on them that morning, like, fully spooning in their sleep — Eddie pressed all along Steve's back with an arm over his waist, their ankles intertwined — and rather than beat Steve's ass and ban him from their house like Steve expected him to, he just awkwardly grunted 'breakfast is ready' and shut the door.

"I'm always right," Robin gloats in his ear.

"You're always the worst."

"You love me." Steve hears shuffling as she adjusts the cord — probably wiggling around to lie on her stomach on the bed and kick her feet up in the air the way she likes — and then she says, "I'm still not seeing how this explains the other five whole days, though."

Jesus. Five whole days. Like she's his unimpressed boss and he’s late with the quarterly reports. "Our schedules kept not lining up! And then he went out of town with Jeff's family for the holiday."

"And you haven't called him?"

Steve glares flatly at the phone; hopes she can feel it through the line. "Literally how would I do that, Robin?"

"Well— I don't know! Maybe..." She hums in thought then snaps her fingers, talking fast. "Ooh! You could ask Wayne for the number? I mean, he'd have to know it in case he needed to reach Eddie, right?"

"Uh huh." Steve loves her solution-oriented brain, he really does, but that's one of the worst ideas he's heard in a while. (And he's including Mike and Dustin's attempted kidnapping last month.) "Yeah, let me get right on that," he snarks, switching the phone to his other ear. "I’ll just call them up and say, 'Hey, Mr. or Mrs. Jeff's Grandparents! This is Steve Harrington, may I—? Oh. Who's Steve Harrington, you ask? Nobody, sir or ma’am, just the kid who stood by and watched while his teammates gave your grandson a swirlie two years ago, so I'm sure he fucking hates me still for that! Anyway, can I please flirt with your house guest now?'"

Robin's whinnying into the receiver by the time Steve finishes his rant, and he begrudgingly laughs along with her, shaking his head as he stoops to pick up the dust pan.

"Okay," she concedes. "You may have a point."

"Thank you."

"But you still have to do something to make up for this when he gets home! Otherwise, he's going to think you're, like, having a straight boy crisis or something and get all weird."

"I'm not having a 'straight boy crisis,'" Steve rolls his eyes. He's having a bisexual boy crisis — at least, according to the three hour phone call he had with Robin the other night (which was humiliating, by the way; he never thought he'd be quietly crying tears of total confusion while saying the words 'I still likes boobies, though' out loud. Jesus Christ. Sexuality is embarrassing.) "And I already have a grand gesture in mind, anyway."

"Oh?" Robin perks up. "Do tell."

"I was thinking we could, like..." Hmm. It's sounding less grand when he goes to say it out loud. "Well, shit, I don't know. I thought we could go to one of his shows together when you get back, but now that sounds kind of lame?"

“No, that's good! That's perfect, actually. We can get a whole group together to go support him, then he'll see that you're not embarrassed to be seen around him with your friends."

"Wait, was that a concern?" Oh, god. He dumps more glass into the trash can; hisses when a little shard gets his fingertip; sucks the wound into his mouth. "Are you sure it’s not-? I mean, I want him to know I mean it in a romantic way, not just a friendly gesture."

"Well, yeah, obviously. But you can't just go by yourself; his bandmates hate you."

Oh, right. “Yeah.” That would be pretty awkward to loiter in a booth by himself all night while Jeff and Gareth and the other kid glare daggers at him. "Do you think you could get a group together? If I do it…"

"…We'll be hanging out with a group of dorky freshman all night?”

"Rude."

"Accurate."

"You know what? Tell Deb and Bobby they can keep you."

"Ah!" Robin gasps. "You would turn to stone like a troll in the sun without me, and you know it!"

Man, he misses her. "Yeah, I know it." He puts the broom back up on the hook. "When ya comin' home?"

"Soon, I hope. I swear to god if I have to hear Deb and Patty fight over the leftovers one more time—!" She cuts herself off with a strangled noise, and Steve laughs at her plight. "Anyway, yes. I'll ask some friends at school—"

"—Is one of those friends Vickie?"

“I can multi-task; shut up."

"I love you," he smiles.

"Love you, too, dingus.” Her voice dips soft and sincere for just a second; there and gone. “Hey, I have to go, Carrie wants the phone.”

“You have too many relatives.”

“Ugh, I know. Okay. Leaving for real now; can't wait to see you for Operation Woo Your Man!”

"Robin, no-!”

“Got to go byeeeee.”

“We’re not calling it that!” He holds the phone out with both hands so he can yell into the receiver. “Robin? Robin!"

The line's already dead.

—

part 34

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[misssilversunny]

Incel shiggy kidnaps idol reader

Or rents lookalike idol reader (and he does what he wants with her bc this is the closest hell ever get) (then gives a fat check accompanying his fat load)

God, so many thoughts… head in hands rn/pos

Couldn’t decide on which one I like more, so here’s both kinda. Part two to this. Also, I’m assuming that by lookalike, you mean a sex worker who cosplays as the reader? I hope this is to your liking!

MDNI

CW/TW: Implied Kidnapping, Shigaraki is an incel so his opinions of sex workers are Not Great, I’m very new to writing smut

Shiggy tries hiring lookalikes but they never compare to you. You’re pure, a saint- no, goddess among men. These whores simply use your likeness to make a quick buck off of filthy nobodies like him. But sometimes a toy isn’t enough.

He hires one he finds on a porn site. They’re a convincing lookalike, even going so far as to mimic your voice. Even though you don’t talk like that. She laughs at a subpar joke he made, her laugh high and shrill, closer to a shriek than your angelic voice.

He brings her home while everyone else is out or in their rooms. He’s already been flamed by Dabi for spending so much on chicks that look like you, just thinking about it pisses him off.

He drags her into the room by her arm, ignoring her whining about his grip. When they get to his room, he tosses her on the bed, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock without looking at her.

She has on a pair of themed panties with little bows on them. She says her “best friend” got them for her. They’re themed after that damn boy idol group. Specifically, the boy who’s constantly touching you or making you laugh. That little shit has no fucking right being pressed up against your cunt, themed underwear or not.

Shigaraki turns her panties to dust, kneeling down until he’s face to face with her pussy. He shoves his face in, licking her slit and plunging his tongue into her hole. He wanted to practice before the real thing. He knew that one day you would be his, and he needed to be sure that he was your best. Plus, he found that he actually enjoyed eating pussy. He knew once you two were together, he’d be buried between your thighs 24/7.

He sped up his tongue as her moans got louder, circling her clit and tapping it before going back to her soaked hole. She sounded fake at first, but soon her voice became genuine as her orgasm approached.

Shigaraki flipped her onto her back before dropping back to his knees. He showed no mercy, sucking her clit into his mouth and licking it in tighter circles as his fingers plunged inside of her. With one final suck, her thighs clamped around his head as her orgasm crashed into her.

He forces her legs apart as he lines himself up and fully sheathes himself in one harsh thrust. Her legs clamp around him as he sets an unforgiving pace. His dick has an extreme upward curve, and his position keeps hitting her g-spot without even trying.

She’s teary eyed at this point, begging him for more. He grabs her thighs and pushes them until her knees are by her ears, leaning down until their breaths were mixing.

He leans further and licks a stripe up her throat, biting just below her jaw. "Gonna breed this nasty cunt. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he says, lips pulled into a sneer.

“Yes, Ohmyfuckinggod please cum in me. I need it please oh my god oh fuck." Just another way she wasn’t you. You’d beg him to pull out. But it didn’t matter. He was too close to complain.

With a final cry into the musky air, her cunt clamps down on his cock. He groans, his hips stuttering as he presses himself flush with her hips, spurting out rope after warm, thick rope of cum into her pussy.

He stays inside for a few seconds before he pulls out, watching the globs roll out of her abused cunt. He doesn’t snap a picture, instead leaving $1,500 on the nightstand next to her before leaving to clean himself up.

He’s scrolling on his phone a little while later when he sees you’ve posted to your Twitter again. Your group is going to be returning to the city in three weeks and holding a concert the day of their return. You’re posting about how you can’t wait to be reunited with your beloved pet cat and sleep in your bed again.

Shiggy gets tickets to the concert and decides to follow the car the group came in to your house. After everyone has gotten to their homes, you are dropped off last at a fancy looking apartment. Shiggy watches you enter the building and watches the windows to see which light turns on.

You’re high up, but that doesn’t deter him.

He walks into the building, trying his best to not draw attention to himself as he climbs the stairs. He reaches your floor with great effort. He really should exercise more. He leans on the wall next to the elevator to catch his breath.

While he’s standing there, a guy in a Pizza Hut uniform walks out of the elevator, looking around.

“Hey, do you live here?” He asks, tilting his head. Shigaraki stiffens, trying to not look guilty.

“I’m trying to find room 816. Someone ordered a pizza, garlic bread, and soda. Big soda too, they must have a pretty severe sweet tooth.” He continues, trying to make small talk. Shiggy pushes himself from the wall, motioning for the man to follow. He leads him to a supply closet on the floor, pushing him inside when he hesitates. He snatches the boxes in his hand, placing it on a shelf.

“Wait, what the fuck?” The delivery man turns to Shigaraki, “Nice prank, ha-ha. Now where is Room 81-“

Shigaraki grabs the man’s neck, careful to avoid his clothes. The man’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates before shooting to Shigaraki’ wrist, desperately trying to claw his hand off like a rat in a glue trap. With a pitiful gasp, he crumbled to dust, leaving just his clothes.

Shigaraki emerged from the closet a few minutes later and approached your door, knocking. You opened the door clad in only a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized top, flashing him a smile.

“Ah! My order! Thank you! Come in and place it on the table, I’ll get the money!”

[candyskiez]

I don't know how to explain why but the Teru vs Mob fight literally would not have been so gutwrenching if they hadn't drawn it like. That. Like. They're so clearly kids. And it's not gorey it's just. Impossible to forget that the violence is horrible and extremely painful for Mob and that this is serious and this isn't a fun game, neither of them are having fun, this isn't a cool anime battle they look like children. Teru is just a kid who's a bully and who's scared that this literal other child isn't acting how he's Supposed to and he doesn't know if he's a threat. And mobs just a kid whos so scared and doesn't want anything bad to happen. You cannot forget at any moment of the fight that nobody is having fun.

It's just hard to watch. It's just two kids having a horrible day because both of their trauma is getting hit in the face and it's awful and seeing ???% isn't cool or a relief its just. Oh, he's freaking out. Oh, he's in. So much pain. Him defeating Teru wasn't exciting or good it just Happened and obviously you're glad Mob survived but it's just so fucking brutal.

And then Teru really romanticizes it, because. It's good. It was a good thing. It was a very good thing. It saved him. This is good. Kageyama is good. This wasn't horrible or traumatic or the worst day of his life. He needs Mob to be Perfect so he can hide from how horrible everything that happened was. He cannot face what he did as something horrible, it's just the events in a story. It was just a Big Anime Fight he lost. It's fine. He learned from it so it was a good thing. He could've died but that's fine. His entire school came apart before his eyes but that's fine. He could've killed someone but that's fine. His entire world view was flipped on its head and he was alone but. That's. Fine. He needs it to be Good. So he pretends it didn't happen usually. He doesn't apologize because that's not how stories go. Even though he had nightmares about what he did. And he massively romanticizes Mob's powers because he NEEDS to. It's the only way he can make that fight not "we could've killed each other". He absolutely cannot see Mob as anything other than Incredible and Wonderful or his entire world view and self image fall apart. Again. He like duck taped them back together.

But in confession arc he looks at what's happening and how everyone is so horribly affected and terrified and he finally admits to himself: I am terrified. This is terrifying. This is a painful, horrible situation. I don't feel good. He's not the main character. All of this is awful and I hate it and everyone hates it and he probably does too.

I could've died. He could've died. That was horrible. That day was horrible.

And by admitting to himself, that day was horrible he can actually HELP mob. Because he can admit that Mob was crying, not because he's a wonderful saint who wanted to save him but because that was a horrible experience! All of that was horrible! They both just had probably the worst day of their lives up until that point! (Except for the Ritsu incident) And he was crying. And he sees that Mob was alone too. Mob was MISERABLE. His powers terrified him. Mob wasn't gifted, none of them are, it's not a story, it's real life and Mob was a person with flaws. And he can admit this all really happened, and it was bad. I need to take this seriously. This is maybe the first time in his life he's ever let himself understand the gravity of a situation. But he saves everyone. He protects everyone.

And he couldn't stop Mob. But he could be there. He could scream at him I AM HERE, I CARE, WE CARE, YOU CAN COME BACK FROM THIS until maybe something worked. Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe he was going to die. Because this is a horrible situation.

But he can tell Mob not to underestimate him. That he wasn't being weak. He just didn't want to hurt him. He just cares about him. And he's sorry, he's so fucking sorry for everything he did, and he will NOT do it again, no matter what. And he wants to be better. And he gets it now. They're both just people. They're equals.

By the way all of this started because I saw an screenshot with a joke edited in and remembered how fucking horrifying it was to watch Mob get strangled. Anyway. Goodbye now. I think about these two every second

[dalekofchaos]

There was never a rat in the Van Der Linde Gang

I'm gonna be honest. Micah is a conniving snake. But there was never a rat.

Why did Blackwater fail? Dutch killed a mother in cold blood and then a massacre happened. The money was a set up and Dutch took the bait. Pinkertons swarmed the area and even Landon Rickets was there.

How did they find them at Horseshoe? By chance the Pinkertons found Arthur and Jack fishing, but was it really by chance? What happens in chapter 2?

A bar fight where fucking everyone in town is there, which afterwords Dutch is there

You sprang Sean free and there are bounty hunters who flee, you seriously don't think they talked??

Oh yeah, ARTHUR AND MICAH SHOOT UP A FUCKING TOWN

John killing Micah led to Ross and Fordham finding him. Any of the missions I mentioned practically led Milton and Ross to finding Arthur near Horseshoe.

How did the Gray/Braithewaite scheme fail?

The Grays knew what they were doing and so did the Braithewaites. They played both families instead of just one and instead of LYING LOW. Dutch's vanity, ego and sense of wanting petty revenge against Confederate white trash caused Sean to be killed and Jack to be abducted.

How did Saint Denis fail?

Dutch played Bronte in his own city, refused a favor(you do NOT refuse the Mob asking a favor) which caused the set up, then Bronte's murder and finally the Bank Robbery which they knew they were there.

The common theory is someone from the gang snitched and talked to the Pinkertons. Who exactly ? Micah ? Well, Agent Milton said they picked up Micah AFTER they came back from Guarma, so it could not have been him. Molly ? Again, Milton said they did pick her up (not mentioned when), but she did not say anything. I have also read theories that it might have been Agibail who snitched to which my response is - pure BS.

The truth is, nobody snitched, nobody talked. Yes. Yet the reaction of the Pinkertons was insanely fast, as if they knew the robbery was going to go down. How you wonder ? Well, it's simple. It's a long one, but have a read.

From the very beginning of the game, Dutch has been claiming that they are a few steps ahead of everyone else, but his arrogance proved to be the downfall. You see, the Pinkertons are not as dull and foolish as Dutch claim them to be, they are extremely efficient as a detective agency proven by the fact that they tracked down Arthur in Valentine. Now, when the gang moved to Clemens Point near Rhodes, the Pinkertons lost their trail for a while. However the gang contradicted their own plan of staying low by creating a huge chaos in Rhodes after killing both the Gray's and the Braithwaite's (best mission in the game btw). As soon as the word spread of the massacre of both the families in Rhodes all over the place, the Pinkertons connected the dots and knew that it could be the Van Der Lind gang who created the fuss and if so, they must be camping somewhere near Rhodes. Nonetheless, they found the gang hideout after sniffing around, a day or two after the Braithwaite massacre. At this point Agent Milton knew these bunch of people would not be too hard to find as all you need to do is to sniff around an area where there has been murder and madness.

Now to Saint Denis, Dutch dismissed Hosea's idea and went after Angelo Bronte just after the failed trolley station robbery. If he listened to Hosea, hit the bank at once, then vanished, the Pinkertons would have never caught on and they would be harvesting mango's in Tahiti. But a failed trolley station robbery followed by a huge shootout in the city killing dozens of cops then followed by a kidnapping and murder of the most powerful man in the city was enough chaos for the Pinkertons to realize it's the Van Der Lind gang. So they knew the gang is around this city and increased security in Saint Denis hoping that the next time they attempt a robbery, it would be the endgame. That is why as soon as the bank robbery started, the Pinkertons were all over the place.

It is also easy to explain why Hosea was captured and Abigail escaped. While causing the distraction, both of them did not realise how fast the response is going to be. The Pinkertons caught Hosea as his face along with other male members of the gang was known to them, specially Hosea, Dutch and Arthur as they have been the oldest members of the gang. But Abigail at this point was unknown to them so it was easy for her to walk right past them without them realizing.

Why did the gang fell?

Micah got into Dutch's ear, Hosea died and Arthur got sick.

Micah promised him riches and the glorious scores that appealed to Dutch's ego and vanity. But he wasn't the rat.

If he did rat, he was playing Dutch and the Pinkertons to get the Blackwater money and the money for turning in Dutch.

However.

It was all Dutch.

Dutch. killed Cornwall in broad fucking daylight. Arthur sprung John out of prison, they blew up a fucking bridge, Dutch led the Natives to their doom, Colm's execution turned into a bloodbath, an attack on the Oil Refinery which led to the deaths of Colonel Favors and Eagle Flies and to top it all with robbing the military. It's no fucking wonder the Pinkertons found them.

There was no rat. The Pinkerton’s were actually just good at their jobs. Micah being a rat makes no sense if you actually think about it. There’s NO WAY the pinkertons would have been ok with the death of Leviticus Cornwall as he was paying their wages. Micah and Dutch planned to kill him together. There’s also the fact that Micah straight up killed Pinkertons in the firefight that ensued cornwall’s death. Micah was an asshole but not a rat. Watch that scene with Milton and Arthur again…Milton would have most likely let Arthur go with that false information but Arthur decided to attack him. There was never a rat, they got played.

It's a combination of things on why they all failed.

Reason 1. Dutch's vanity and ego. Dutch desperately needed to be seen as this great American hero. He cares more of the thrill of “one last score” it’s all about his ego and how he has to be seen as this Evelyn Millerian figure. This great American Literature hero when he’s really as bad as the greed that he says poisons America. He never cared about the people in the gang. It was the prestige of the name "The VAN DER LINDE Gang" HIM. He wanted to be seen as this infamous outlaw and righteous leader. He didn't care about the people in the gang. Arthur? He was dying and he didn't care. John? He wanted him to hang. Abigail? He left her behind the first chance he got. Micah killed Susan RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM and Dutch didn't care. He considerd Mary-Beth, Pearson and Uncle leaving as a betrayal. Dutch never cared for the people within the VDL Gang. He cared what they could do for him and the glory they could bring him. It was never of settling down to become farmers, it was always about the thrill of being an outlaw the that great big score.

There are a lot of people who think if Hosea never died, then Dutch never would've lost it. He was always bad. He just had good ways of masking it. Hosea failed at every venture to talk out of getting Dutch to see sense and avoid bloodshed. If Hosea lived, there is a very good chance that Dutch would've lost it and had Hosea killed. Either it would've been an accidental death like he tried by leaving Arthur behind, he would've went into full paranoid mode "You're trying to undermine me and take the group from me" and order Hosea to draw his gun and then shoot him. Like Hosea said "You'll damn us all" and he did.

Reason 2. Loyalty to a fault.

Loyalty held the gang together. Loyalty was what Dutch valued - blind, obedient loyalty. “He had a plan,” after all.

Doubt broke the gang apart. Dutch became suspicious, uncertain of the faith of even his most dedicated friends. This undermined the entire operation and caused its eventual downfall.

“You’ll betray me, Arthur,” Dutch says, “You’re the type.” Dutch couldn’t be more wrong on that account.

Micah is named by the Pinkertons as a rat, but according to them, he wasn’t approached until after they’d returned from Guarma. So, by that timeline, the Pinkerton’s hadn’t needed a rat to foil their plans in Blackwater, or to find Arthur fishing by the side of a stream, or for the bank robbery in Saint Denis.

The Pinkertons always knew where Dutch was and what he was up to. They didn’t need a rat, especially not after their return from Guarma. So, why drop Micah’s name?

Well, the Pinkertons knew the gang was scrambling, that they were on the run, and that it was damn near impossible to arrest one of them at a time without a successful rescue of said gang member, ie Micah, John, Abigail and Sean. They are not the local sheriff’s office, after all. They are the federals and they want Dutch Vander Linde done in for good.

Staring down the barrel of a gun, why would a Pinkerton agent spill their collateral to the enemy? Arthur wasn’t even asking for any information at the time. Why would this agent, in his dying moments, tell Arthur that Micah was the rat?

Unless the agent knew the gang was on thin ice, and that loyalty was all that was keeping it together. He introduced what he hoped would be a final blow to the gang, accomplishing post-huminously what had been his career goal in life.

Also, why would Micah become an informant after Guarma? What were the promising him? After all, he stuck with Dutch and formed a new gang after Arthur died. He never took a big cut from the government and ran. He was a brown-noser and an asshole, but stood nothing to gain from becoming a rat.

Arthur hated Micah, so he took the bait. He wanted a reason to hate him, to have him kicked out of the gang. Micah was pragmatic and greedy and he hardened Dutch’s humanitarian side - the side that Arthur valued. But, Micah being a rat wasn’t the truth.

After all, we know who became a rat - John Marston.

Arthur’s readiness to believe a Pinkerton’s dying words proved the point of the narrative - the gang fell apart because they lost faith in Dutch, and because Dutch grew jealous and fearful as their doubts became apparent.

Loyalty kept the gang together, and its absence tore the gang apart.

Reason 3. "We didn't need a rat. We got sloppier than the town drunk."

The gang was careless. It got sloppy and their overconfidence and ego was their downfall.

Micah wasn’t the cause of their downfall he simply hastened it. The game tells you from the opening titles how it’s going to end and why. It mentions that the remaining gangs are being hunted down and destroyed with the word underlined for emphasis. It was always going to end in their demise, it just happened quicker than it would have because they got sloppy, careless, conceited, and arrogant.

[valtsv]

Oh my god stop fucking romanticising the Laika story. I'm sick and tired of you people glorifying the life and death of what was a completely normal dog who was horrifically abused and went through unimaginable suffering at human hands. She is not the patron saint of anything she was just a dog who experienced great cruelty. It could have been any dog. If they killed your dog by overheating and suffocating you wouldn't be saying this same shit. You actually make me feel sick lol. She wasn't a hero or the protagonist of some great story, she was a victim. The only reason you're even remotely interested in her is bc she was abused. Disgusting

i understand your anger and respect it, because clearly you see this in a different way than i do, but please consider that maybe a fellow abuse victim would relate to and want to give the memory of another abuse victim meaning and power. consider that it's not suffering that's being celebrated, but the memory of a victim who could have been any dog, but was Laika, and deserves to be acknowledged as such. consider that me making that post about her is because i want to mourn the sacrifice she was given no choice in making and not let it be forgotten. i don't love her because she's a victim or for the sacrifice she was forced to make. i love her because she was alive and she existed and that should have been enough. i love her so that her memory endures and she is not consigned to history as nothing more than a stepping stone in the name of progress. i love her because we have both been hurt and had decisions made on our behalves that weren't in our own best interests or even considered us and what we would be made to endure at all, and nobody loved us enough to step in and say "no" and stop it. i love her because i am angry and afraid and have suffered and seen others suffer and i refuse to be defined by that suffering and fear and anger alone. you can disagree with how i express that, but don't assume that you know me or my reasons simply because they don't fit your own expectations, and don't make it my problem that you made up a guy to be mad at and attached my name to him.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Merlin

The Walls of Camelot by spqr

"Camelot will fall tomorrow,” Arthur says, on the first day of the eighth month of the siege.

DC

IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio

Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle:

The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate. - (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin-

(01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood-

(01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious.

(01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route-

(01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up.

(01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

we shall be free; we shall find peace by mediant

Clark has accepted what it means to be Lex's prisoner - the pain of the Green, the experiments, the hands on it. The long years buried in its containment cell, let out only to act as Lex's weapon, as Lex's tool. It had fought back at first, but years have ground it down and away to almost nothing.

Then Lex hands it a baby. And Clark realizes that while it may have hurt humans, and lied about what it is, and it may deserve to be locked away - Kon deserves to be free.

Untamed

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (+ podfic)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

-- In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.

Clone Wars

patron saint by spqr (+ podfic)

Funerary practices? Master Ti writes back. I’m not sure what you mean, Master Kenobi. Used biomass is the property of Kamino and thus is recycled into the cloning process.

So that’s how the revolution begins—with dead brothers, but not the way you might expect.

Miraculous Ladybug

drowning (in plain sight) by buggachat

Everybody had expected Monarch's defeat to be a moment of triumph. Nobody had expected Gabriel Agreste, unmasked and mind frayed from continual abuse of the miraculous, crying out to all who would listen and making Paris certain of one thing:

His son, Adrien Agreste, is one of his sentimonsters.

And now he's missing.

Nobody can find him— not even the superheroes, and not even his closest friends. But Marinette, Nino, and Alya aren't ones to give up so easily. They'll find him, no matter what it takes.

(But, geez, would it kill Chat Noir to lend a hand?)

[frank1nsaint]

Franklin Part 3

Warnings: Use of curse words and N-word

“Why you been dodging me?” Franklin asks you as soon as you open the door to your house 

You step out “I have no idea what you’re talking about” 

“Oh so those pages and calls to your phone?” he points towards the inside of your house “They didn't happen?” 

You shrug “I don't know maybe you dialed the wrong number” you had no plan to explain to him why you hoped he would just take the hint and let you be, it had been 3 weeks since your first date

He throws his hands up “Come on Y/N what happened? We were just good not too long ago I was gonna take you on another date’n shit” 

“I don’t think we would be good for each other Franklin” 

“Why you say that? we just talked about you not sabotaging” he points between both of you “this” 

“Im not” 

He leans in “You are” he argues 

“Franklin we aren’t good for each other just accept that” you state matter of factly before you turn to go in

He grabs your arm gently “Nah you owe me an explanation” 

“I don’t!” you answer defiantly snatching your arm away

“Yes the fuck you do. I’m puttin’ my best foot forward and you fuckin’ it up on purpose cuz of what? you fucking scared of the shit I do? Aint nobody gon touch you Y/N they dont touch Wanda  and her dope head ass what make you think they gon fuck withchu?”

You sigh “Franklin” 

“Nah fuck that Y/N” 

“You really wanna know?”

He nods “Yes I do, enlighten me” 

You pause “I can’t trust you Franklin”  

His face holds a confused look “What are you even...?” 

“After our date, some of your henchmen came up to me. Guess what they said to me?”

Franklin held his breath he feels his heart beat start to increase. You start to mock the mannerisms and voice of the men “shit I heard you and my boy Saint had a date last night” He shrugs “So i told them we went on a date big deal”  praying that's where the story ends 

You continue “Men I lost my $200 and my boy came up on a smooth couple grand” you pause and look at him “ha-ha my man Saint he a G tho” you return to a normal voice “then he proceeds to tell me that there was a bet between you and your fucking crew, you got two grand if i actually went on a date with you?” you scoff “if you were that hard up for money Saint all you had to do was ask I could have given you that and we wouldn’t be having this conversation” 

“Y/N let me explain” this was not as it seemed 

“Not even 24 hours passed after our date and I’m hearing you went rounding up your niggas so they could pay you!" you paused "And OH! if I fucked you it would have been an additional $3000”  you say sarcastically

“Y/N” he calls

You start mocking another guy “My girl Y/N, my sunshiiinneee yo yo yo shit if i had known all i had to do was ask you all proper and shit you would be my girl now. May I take you to dinner Y/N, miss congeniality” you tilt your head “they said you looked pretty in that green dress last night wish it was me instead of that nigga!” 

“Who approached you?” he asked with a deep scowl on his face.  

“I’ll give you that Saint. You played me good. You played a good game” you begin to walk away 

“Hold up, hold up, hold up,  who came up to you?” He asked again You return his mug “I’m not telling you Franklin! It doesn’t matter anyway you up 1 grand right?” 

“Y/N listen I will explain later but who told you that? They are a liability to my shit!” 

You shrug “what that got to do with me?” 

“Tell me their fuckin’ names Y/N!” he demands

You sigh “you betted on me” 

“Y/N” 

In a soft tone you say “$2000 for the date, additional $3000 if we fucked, had people follow us, Big Saint, The Man, The Myth, The Legend show you lil niggas how its done” you pause “right?...... Saint?” 

He looks up and runs his hand down his face feeling like his heart was going to explode word for word you quote what he had that night (“show you lil niggas how its done”) “Y/N please just tell me who told you that and I will explain everything” he begs 

“If you wanted the money all you had to do was ask Franklin” 

“Y/N, I don’t care about the money” “But you still made sure to collect, right?” you pause “Then you got the nerve to get annoyed at the fact that I was sabotaging the date!”  you scoff in disbelief and begin to walk into your house 

Franklin grabs your arm “Y/N listen!”

“Don’t Franklin!”  you warn removing yourself from his grip 

He blocks the door with his body “Y/N This aint a fucking game who approached you?! I need to know!” 

You shook your head, you look him in the eye “I’m not gonna tell you Saint” 

He tilted his head and pauses with an offended tone he says “Don’t call me that, I'm not Saint to you it’s either Franklin or any other fucking thing else but I’m not Saint to you!” 

You go to say something else but decide not “Fucking Asshole!” you mutter looking down at your sweater pulling small knots that had formed

He released a deep sigh “Fine I’ll take that but you need to tell me who approached you.” he moves his head trying to get you to look up at him. You remain silent. “Tell me Y/N” 

You shake your head “I’m not gonna tell you Franklin”

“WHY?!” he pauses to gather himself “You know how serious this shit is?” “SO YOU CAN GO KILL THEM?!” “OH MY GOD AINT NOBODY THINKIN’ ABOUT KILLING THEM NIGGAS!” he looks around  and moves closer to you  “keep your fucking voice down!” he whispers harshly You scoff “It’s all good Saint” Almost immediately he sizes you up and with gritted teeth he says “What the fuck did I just say?”  

You feel shiver run down, it shocked you so much that you instinctively jump move away slightly, but you hold your ground still glaring at him before you step away and snicker and nod a few of times with tears in your eyes 

With instant regrets he breaks his stance and takes a step back to show that his anger isn't’ aimed at you. “Just tell me” he says in a significantly softer tone 

“I’m not gonna tell you Franklin, I don’t want their deaths on me because you decided to be an asshole all over $5000?” 

He steps towards “Y/N please”

You step away with your hand up “It’s all good Franklin, I hope you put that $1000 to good use” a tear drops from your eyes “Y/N” “No hard feelings really Franklin, but you know this can’t work ever, doesn’t matter your explanation.” another tear from your right eye begins to roll down “wish you the best in your business stay safe out there” 

“Y/N! No no no no please please please!” he begs gently grabbing your hand trying to stop you but also making sure to not scare you away 

You pull your hand away “Goodnight Franklin” you speak before closing the door. 

He looks at the door for a moment before turning and walking away towards his car. He turns on the car and begins to drive away “FFFUUUCCCKKKK!” he screams feeling the rage course through him as he speeds on the freeway

Franklin walks in and slams the door causing Jerome to jump up from his seat gun drawn “MOTHAFUCKA I ALMOST SHOT YOU WHAT THE HELL WRONG WITCHU?!” 

They hear footsteps before Louie is stand ny the door “JEROME? WHO THE FUCK IS THAT? FRANKLIN!?” she comments frantically looking around for the threat “Not now” he grits out

“NIGGA WHO YOU THINK YOU TALKIN’ TO?!  WALKIN’ UP IN MY HOUSE SLAMMIN’ MY SHIT. I'll FUCK YOU UP!” Jerome bellows 

The phone rings and Franklin picks up “Hello?! meet me at Jerome house, now nigga, YES NOW! Bring Sean witchu!”

“WHAT THE HELL GOING ON FRANKLIN WHAT HAPPENED?” Louie asks “THEM LITTLE MOTHAFUCKAS DONE WENT AND TOLD Y/N ABOUT THE BET!” “WHAT? WHAT BET?” Louie asks

Jerome looks at Franklin like he has three heads “NIGGA WHAT??? YOU MAD OVER THAT STUPID ASS BET?” Franklin took major offence to Jeromes accusations, tilting his head to the side “You laughing but if I can't trust them to not tell a bitch about a stupid ass bet I can’t trust them in my shit!! They gone blow up our spot and fuck up our shit.” he points to his head  “You not thinking Unc” Jerome paused and realised the gravity of the situation 

“What is this bet? And what it got to do with that lil girl?” Louie asked as she looked between the two 

Jerome gently waved her away “I’ll explain it to you later baby just let us be” 

Louie scoffed “Shit mothafucka walkin’ in here slamming doors”

“Louie” Franklin commented 

“Nigga fuck you!”  

Franklin squared up Louie “AYE! AYE! AYE! WE DON'T NEED ALL THAT NOW!” 

Franklin huffed and turned to continue his pace 

In 10 minutes Leon and Sean arrived

“Nigga what happened” Leon asked gun already out 

“We got some rat ass mothafuckas in our crew look how they got Franklin!”  Jerome pokes fun at him “Nigga pacing around and shit over a bitch!” he jokes 

“UNC!”  Franklin warns

“What... happened?” Sean asked confused 

“Y/N told me that niggas from our crew approached her telling her about the bet”

“Soooo...” Leon looked at Franklin confused 

“So?” Franklin returned the expression “You niggas not thinking?” he paused “I GOTTA DO ALL THE THINKIN’ AROUND HERE??!!” 

“We don’t” Sean speaks trying to rationalise their confusion 

“If they running to tell her about a bet, a bet made between everyone in that room, what makes you think they not blowing up our spot?”

The men looked between each other the reality finally setting in for everyone that they could be completely exposed for anything at any moment. 

“Our competitors, our opps, our product,  our recipe, our schedule, our plug, our money, our peoples” Franklin states 

“We got it Nephew” Jerome comments wanting him to not continue hating the feeling of being vulnerable 

Franklin chuckled and looked around at them and in a whisper he sneers “and you niggas think I’m mad over a bitch when I got some snake ass mothafuckas in my crew??!! I GOT BIGGER PROBLEMS NIGGA!!” “My bad” Sean says throwing his hands up 

“FFFUUUCK! Round all them niggas up now” 

Leon puts his hand up “Now hold on its 2am we ain't bout to be meeting without cops spotting us”

“SHIT!”

“Look lets come up with a solution to figure out who them niggas are we start rounding people up they might start snitching even more” Leon strategizes 

Franklin nodded in agreeance “We gonna act like shit aint happen and take them niggas out one by one!” 

Jerome nods “Yea I like that plan!” 

Franklin sighs and sits down releasing the tension in his body

“We got a plan nephew unless you got something better?”

“No I don't.” 

Its silent for awhile with the 3 men (Jerome, Sean, Leon) talking to each other catching up on what they heard or whats going with their product

“Nigga what wrong withchu we have a solution” 

Franklin waves him off “Not now Unc,I’m trying to figure out how to fix this shit with Y/N” 

“Oh shit,” Leon comments forgetting that you were involved 

“Yea nigga, Y/N! they told Y/N!” 

“HA-HA you losing your mind over this girl boy! Now you know niggas talk worse than bitches sometimes. Gossipping mothafuckas”

“NOT NOW UNC” Leon shrugs “just go get another bitch, she aint the only fine girl that we know”

Franklin shot him an incredulous look “I don't want another bitch Leon I want that one!” 

“She not special her stuck up ass I bet if you called Tasha now she’ll literally hop the fuck out her bed and come fuck you” Leon wasn’t really a big fan of you, he thought that you acted too good

“I dont want Tasha, I want Y/N and that thing was a fucking mistake i told you that” “Hell no don’t call that crazy girl up here! Her bat shit ass bout got herself killed trying to sneak in my damn house talking about she just wanna see Frankie”  Louie comments 

Jerome chortles “BOY YOU HAD THAT GIRL GOING CRAZY BOUT LOST HER FUCKIN’ MIND. DICK HAD HER STUCK NEPHEW!!” he blares out a laugh 

Leon, Sean, and Louie join in on the laugh

Franklin ran his hands down his face “We gotta find them or this shit is not gonna last. If they can go run and tell Y/N what else are they doing? Product been going missing lets start there whoever them mothafuckas are they fuckin’ dead!” he grumbled. 

Authors Note: Feedback is much appreciated. Please reblog, comment, and like just don't plagiarize