#no one should be above the law ... unless ...

[not-safe-for-democracy]

IG: msnbc via mannyfidel

#the jokes just write themselves #trump #donald trump #no one should be above the law ... unless ...

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Lawyer Husband x GN Spouse Reader HCs

CW: mafia related stuffs

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Husband is a gentle soul to you, he can't and will never lay a finger with the meaning to hurt you! He just doesn't have the strength to do so, almost as though he was set to be so. It's another whole story when it comes to the others though, can you guess how many times he has pulled the trigger of a gun?

Yan! Husband who spoils you rotten with everything you could ever think of. Luxuries, reputations but never the forbodden knowledge he has tried so hard to keep away from you. No, he won't clip your wings. You are his songbird who gets to only fly inside the gilded cage but never in the outside world. He will create a stage of the outside world for you, but never the real deal.

Yan! Husband who paints a portrait of you whenever he's stressed over the cases he has to handle. To move the brush without any problem as your form starts to appear on the blank canvas, he has no trouble remembering you. Sculpting is no problem for him as well. He has spent all his lives honing his artistic skill just to eternalize you as pieces of art.

Yan! Husband loves you so much that he deems children as a burden and bothersome (adoptive too). He only needs you to build a family, he had no need for children to continue this lineage. His whole life revolves around you. If you pass away, he too, will pass away shortly after. That's how much he loves you to the point that death cannot separate you two.

Yan! Husband who might not look like he's able to do it but he is actually an S-rank gaslighter. He will trick you into believing that what he is suggesting is only to keep you safe! He doesn't really enjoy taking your autonomy directly unless it's needed (of course, in a way where you will not confront him about it).

Yan! Husband who will cover and remove all your bad track records (if you have any). He has the power and connection to erase any kind of dirt that is on you, you are his pristine pure lily-of-the-valley and you should not be defiled with those records. Live without any worry clouded in your mind dear, the laws will never tarnish your reputation when you have this lawyer backing you ^^

Yan! Husband who adores any sort of physical touch when it comes to you, yes, anything. Even if you hit him silly, he'd still love every moment your skin feels his. He loves hugging you the most, his face buried into the crook of your neck while taking a scent of you.

Yan! Husband who enjoys humming lullaby of yours to the point everyone's ears around him is bleeding from the repeating lullaby. Can this guy please hum something else for once?

Yan! Husband who will read for you whenever he has the time to sleep with you. He doesn't know what to say to you as his work is either foreign to your brain or a tad too shady. Childhood memories are not great too as he has long forgotten about everything the moment he pledges eternal vow to love you. He abandoned everything and lives only for you.

Yan! Husband who prioritizes you as his number one, even above his own well-being and career. He can still live even if he falls ill, his career would never fall out of track as he has the mafia under his grasp, but you can slip out of his grasp. And he doesn't want that to happen again.

Yan! Husband is without a doubt an infamous lawyer. Especially with how many times he has let the ringleader of that renowned mafia group slip out from the prosecutor and judge's grip? If you seriously think you'll be pronounced guilty of that murder, you better throw that thought out just like how he throws all the scapegoats and falsified evidence into the court. (Should I write a fic for this?)

Yan! Husband who will always make time for the two of you. While vacations are not as often as he wishes he could have, cuddles and tea parties sound nice enough for him to kill time with you.

Yan! Husband who has this cute journal that's filled with what you have been doing every day instead of his own daily stuff. Oh, your diary is almost his if you know how he reads it daily like a refreshment.

Yan! Husband who as much as he hates having to show you to the people at the official parties and events he has to attend, he just can't shake away the butterflies in his stomach as well! You are not just some trophy spouse, you are his beloved! A hand on your waist and a face that is seen whispering sweet nothings into your ear with a glass in his other hand. Oh, he looks so o-godly-handsome like a man who comes out from a romance novel!

Yan! Husband who is a man of greed, the embodiment of Mammon. Wealth is not something that he has never not possessed. So whatever the fuck you do, gambling or blowing it off somewhere in a dumb investment or stock, he won't make a fuss out of it. Instead, he'll teach you more about money management instead :/

"Do you want to learn how to invest? I know a way or two from my predecessor."

He will let you play all the money game you want and gives you the illusion of success despite all the trials and errors you made (he's the one who clean up all the mess lol)

I know that this is AFAB! oriented BUT Yan! Husband never wishes to impregnate you even once. No, he doesn't like the idea of you being in pain over a damn baby(ies) that could just take your life as well. He does enjoy fucking you without any protection on but that is after he tracks your safe day (man is literally fighting the fate of having you pregnant). He prefers you to not consume any birth control for just in case it causes harm rather than good to you. (Shots are a pass if you are scared of syringes)

He is A-OK with adopting if you are persistent enough about this matter and is B-OK if you want to get pregnant (AFAB). He just can't refuse and upset you...

So please don't imagine what would happen if darling dies during delivery :)

Yan! Husband who will always open his pocketwatch and kiss the picture of you in his pocket watch. How many times and lives had passed just for him to enjoy the solace of being your husband?

𝐀 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫.

Yulian de Alpheus is a man of ambition. While he does share the same look as his 'father', the ambition he has is the complete opposite of Castiel. Castiel created him to seek the truth of life, Adam existed to be the Genesis of Life, Alan existed to be someone he didn't recognize and Yulian existed to live beneath the shadow of his spouse.

𝐘𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

Taglist: @vinivave @destructa1 @szde8-blog @luminous011 @ush0 @annbourbon @randomnl @cassanderasblog @maam-appreciator @lem-hhn @fanatic-fan @flesh-eating-ladybug

(send ask/message to be removed from taglist)

#yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader #LIfE Project #yandere husband #Yulian the Corruption

[ssavaart]

Happy Friday All!

In early 2020 (before Covid), I was painting larger paintings like this with Acryla-Gouache. I was really enjoying the medium.

I was inspired by a couple of photos by Annie Bertram on Deviant Art and asked permission to use them for reference.

Since I was just doing these for myself... I had NO plan. No test drawings. No layouts. I just started drawing on a large piece of paper and figured it out as I went.

Because of this... I never really figured out what to do with the hand on the left.

So... it just kind of disappeared.

I may go back and add it in later, I think.

But, for now... it's always a reminder of a time where I just broke out the paints and... played.

A couple months later... Covid hit and it was 3 years until I did my next large painting (the Gothic Vampire).

(Note: I can't find a reply from the photographer regarding permission or not. My memory is I heard back. But I can't find it.)

I DID hear from the model Theresa Fractale, a couple of years later, who was VERY upset that I had sold some postcards of the painting without her permission.

I was mortified. I hadn't even considered reaching out to the model. I offered her and Annie Bertram all of the profits I made from the sales, but she wasn't satisfied... and we left it at that.

These things DO happen with artists. Sometimes people claim you've "stolen" their art or style or likeness. And sometimes they have legitimate reason to do so.

Me, personally... I believe that artists should use ALL of the world around them for inspiration and if it is HEAVILY influenced by one artist or work of art... CREDIT them.

But change it. Don't directly copy it (unless you're studying someone's work... in which case... copy away).

But always credit.

I believe I REFERENCED the photos above, but didn't copy them.

But, I DID heavily reference them and, honestly, had NO intention of selling it (I still own the painting) or prints (I had only sold a few postcards before being contacted by the model... then stopped).

In any case... if the model or the photographer is unhappy with me selling prints... I don't sell prints. It's that simple.

Their work directly inspired MY work and while I feel that I've changed it enough to be unique... I don't want to cause another artist harm in any way.

Every artist is different. Some are open to sharing their art (like me) and others are very protective of their art.

But, there are no RULES to art. There is no such thing as "cheating" in art. There IS copyright LAW. And that is theft.

But that law ONLY (as far as I know) works if you are SELLING a copy of someone else's work. Profiting from it.

Not for learning. Not for practice. And not for posting online.

Just please... PLEASE credit the artist you're copying. Tell people why you are copying.

Nowadays, if I'm going to do a painting I plan on making prints of, I either use stock photography I've paid for or I get permission and pay the rights holder.

But, this is ONLY for pieces I want to sell prints of.

You do NOT need permission to use photo reference or even copy another artist's work for your portfolio or to post online.

Credit them. Share your inspiration with others. Tell them why you copied the works

But you don't need permission simply to make art. Ever.

Art should be shared. Copied. Studied. And most of all... enjoyed.

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

#art #traditional art #artists on tumblr #drawing #art nouveau #fantasy art #gouache painting #acryla gouache #annie bertram

[astraltrickster]

I feel we're at a point where we need to step back and consciously remind ourselves that posting ANYTHING personal online is a risk. It should be a calculated one.

Companies that run major websites HAVE to stay above board with the law, no matter how shit that law is, unless they're small enough to just dissolve and hide and pop up again under a different name later (usually meaning sole proprietorships) or big enough to be granted an unofficial "yeah we'll just look the other way because we want that sweet sweet lobbyist money" exception (in which case it's usually NOT gonna be the shit laws they're breaking). Meaning you should REALLY think twice about posting about anything illegal, and you should NOT be shocked when posts recommending illegal activity get nuked from a semi-major website.

This also means that if you're on a platform that's not DESIGNED for privacy - which, in many cases, includes the implicit purpose of enabling breaking certain laws the platform creators think are stupid, though they can't admit to it (just like how you can sell bongs in states where weed is still illegal but you have to SAY they're "for tobacco use only") - you have to operate under the assumption that ANYTHING you say can be intercepted and monitored. Again - unless the platform is explicitly there for privacy, unless your communication is end-to-end encrypted, unless the cops have reason to understand and believe that the logs don't EXIST, assume ANY platform host will hand over a complete log of everything you've said there and where you said it from to the cops upon request.

In addition, posting publicly about things that are typically protected by certain privacy laws can undermine the protection from those laws. "Reasonable expectation of privacy" is a legal term. You have it with things you say in private in your home. You have it to an extent with quiet conversations you have with a friend at a coffee shop. You DON'T have it with things you scream on a public street - and you DEFINITELY don't have it with things you post online with your legal name and actual human face attached.

I say this, because for the past few years I've noticed a disturbing trend of people assuming this is a uniquely bad EXCEPTION to a general free-for-all, and not...the rule. This is the default! This isn't a uniquely evil thing about Facebook or Twitter or Discord or anywhere else! It's not a "tumblr is secretly betraying us right under our noses" thing! This is just the reality of operating a website under the legal systems that exist! Even if it's a site whose operators' internal values are truly aligned 100% with yours, you STILL have to assume they're going to sing like a canary because, come on, do you really expect them to sacrifice themselves over one (1) user? Maybe a tiny forum of friends would, but no company is going to do that.

And that's not even getting into what happens when it's not a host/operating company or organization, but just some individual asshole other user with an axe to grind.

Tl;dr remember that We Live In A Society, stop expecting people and companies not to cover their asses, be careful about what you share online, and learn to use actual encrypted services. Sure, Facebook and other shitty entities like to pretend the internet is a super cool safe playground where all but doxxing yourself does more good than harm, but they're blatantly fucking lying. Talking about your disabilities is a risk. Talking about being queer is a risk. Talking about anything that might become illegal in your area is a risk. CALCULATE THOSE RISKS BEFORE YOU TAKE THEM instead of doing the shocked Pikachu face when your post of detailed instructions for how to firebomb a police station gets taken down and you get put on a list because you left it perfectly traceable to your real identity.

#internet safety

[rhine-gold-archive]

Day 56 of waiting for sub heizou studysjsbnsns no pressure seriously I just simp

Sub! Heizou x GN Dom! Reader

A\N: It was tempting to wait full 56 days to write this, but i’m not that petty, I was just busy. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: nsfw, overstim, slight degradation, spanking, leash play, anal sex, cock stands for strap\cock as usual.

Wordcount: 3k

I don’t think there needs to be a lot of analysis to justify Heizou being a sub, it’s fairly intentionally in your face in both hangout and ahem, birthday “yawning” art, because that’s the most most obvious bottom “O-face” since Gorou’s “moaning and tearing up over the bowl of onions” emoji.

Like in two endings he straight up says out loud his confidence is partly a facade and he’d really love for someone else to sometimes step up and take the charge, but no one does bc ppl think he’s too smart.

”Haha, well, as you might see, I’m a little less confident than people might think.”

“And everyone around me thinks I’m so smart that I should be able to handle every case on my own.<...> But you’re different. Unlike them, you don’t have that kind of prejudice towards me. <...> So I’d like you to decide whether we should expose the truth or not.”

He’s not a pushover and he’s not a pillow princess-y type, but he’s also not a brat. He’ll encourage you to take the lead and won’t criticize your choices, but he will *evaluate them*. 

First of all, on how well you’re keeping up with his hyperactive ADHD goblin nature, and second, he’ll leave the unspoken puzzle and see if you’ll manage to figure it out.

He’s open for experimentation and fairly shameless, but how far he’ll go pretty much depends on if he judges you competent enough for this.

Like, meeting him in the hangout starts with him openly calling Traveler “so dreamy”, and then he lets the Traveler decide what course of action to take, but only divulges hidden information after the Traveler showed that they have a deeper understanding of a situation and connected several puzzle dots themselves. 

His inner conflict is when it’s immoral or not to withhold information and does it depend on how capable a person given this information is. The law does not really factor into this, Heizou will act on his own principles instead.

Like in the hangout case he only tells the Traveler that he will follow their choice (see above) after the Traveler presents him with the evidence and proves they have sound judgment.

So he’d *LIKE* to let someone else make decisions, but he wants to make sure that someone else is qualified. So he won’t like outright lie, but he will withhold context if you don’t show him that you get it.

Then he can get quite clingy, like telling Traveler that he’d love to have them as a partner all the time, haha he’s joking, he wouldn’t want to be so greedy…UNLESS???

In a situation where he does trust the other person’s competence, he likes to feel helpless, overpowered and needy, if you indulge him in it. His ideal situation is where you understand that he’s smart and capable himself and he doesn’t strictly need you to take charge, but would enjoy it.

He wants to have fun without anyone making it too weird, and he wants to know you have a clear head on your shoulders, that’s it.

One day while you’re walking down the street near your home, a group of obvious miscreants runs by and a young man in white shirt and brown shorts follows them. The last of ruffians shoves him while they’re running past you and you catch him to stop him from hitting a corner of a house with his head. When the bandit looks back, you instinctively shield a man in your arms with your shoulder, and the bandit obviously judges it not worth the trouble, runs away.

When you look at the man you’re holding, he’s looking up at you with a wide smile, bright green eyes twinkling.

“Oh, thank you, my savior!”

“I didn’t do anything,” you say, putting him upright. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine!” he suddenly pauses, looks you over and says in a weaker tone, leaning into you. “I mean, I’m a little not fine, nothing major, but perhaps if someone could look after me for just a little bit?...”

You take him to get coffee just to keep an eye on him and end up talking for hours. His name is Heizou, he’s flirty, fun and cute, has ruffled mauve hair and little twin moles under his eyes, asks more questions than he’d like to answer about himself, wears a choker and a shirt that leaves his sides bare, and would very obviously love to get dommed from how he talks to you. But you cannot in good conscience take advantage of him now, because his eagerness might be an effect from the shock, so you let him go.

Day later you talk with a neighbor and he mentions how the young detective who from his words meets Heizou’s description just caught a group of pickpockets. 

“Detective, huh?” you ask out loud, and some things that didn’t make sense before fall into place. Like an exaggerated weak affect and how eagerly he pushed himself on you.

Couple of days after you walk into a confrontation in one of the secluded courtyards on the way to your home. There’s Heizou and opposite of him a group headed by the large white-haired oni. It looks incredibly awkward and staged.

“Oh, it’s my savior again!” Heizou says coquettishly, smiling at you. “Hello there! It seems you’re just in time to save me once again.”

“From what?” you say calmly, crossing your arms.

“From being mugged, of course.”

“So these guys need to be arrested, huh?”

A tall oni starts shifting nervously, looking back and forth from you to Heizou.

“Hey, hey, we didn’t agree on…”

A green-haired woman elbows him and he stumbles.

“I mean, you can’t arrest us, we’re big bad bandits, rawr!”

You ignore him, looking Heizou straight in the eyes. He pauses for a second, then pretends to be fainting in your direction. You catch him, rolling your eyes. Green-haired woman punches the oni in his side and they run away with the entire group.

“Oh, thank you,” Heizou says, looking artistically disheveled in your arms.

“No problem, Detective,” you say coldly and he tenses, straightens up.

“So you know…”

“Yeah. And I don’t appreciate being played for a fool.”

“Listen, it’s not like that… It’s just that I... I wanted you to treat me like a sub, but you didn’t do anything after we first met, and I thought maybe if you see me in an even weaker state...”

“I didn’t do anything because you seemed too irrational from shock. If you just told me the truth that you’re detective and were fine, you’d be spread on my bed few nights ago.“

He blushes, but his green eyes light up.

“I would? Oh, I mean, I am fine and we cleared the misunderstandings, so?... Um? About spreading?“

You shake your head, narrowing your eyes.

“Only come to me if you’re ready to drop your bullshit. I’m sure you can figure out how to find me, Detective.“

“Hey there!” he’s bouncing on your threshold a day after with the widest obnoxious smile, and you wouldn’t see the tinge of nervousness under it if you weren't paying attention. “So you said I can come if I dropped the bullshit and um, you can pat me over, including cavity search if you want, to make sure I haven’t got any on me”

You roll your eyes, hooking your fingers under his choker, pull him close and kiss him. He stumbles for a second, but then melts, throws his arms around your neck and presses against you. You can feel him getting hard as you pull him towards the bedroom and then throw him roughly onto the bed. He looks up, his green eyes sparkling in delight.

“Cavity search?” you say incredulously, crawling over him to slide your hands under his shirt and pulling off both of his layers. “That was terrible.”

“I know, I know, I panicked,” he moves his arms to help you get the shirt off, then pulls frantically at the ties of the armguards. “I was going to say you have a search warrant, but somehow it turned into a cavity search.”

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” you grin against his cheek and pull his pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. He gasps, and when you grab his ankles and forcefully spread his legs, he blushes but looks you straight in the eye, already fully hard and breathless in excitement.

“I am? I mean, of course I am, but do tell me more about it.”

You kiss him instead, roam your hands over his slender body, and he arches under you, moans against your mouth. You slide your hand down, close it over hard, twitching cock and he whines, bucks his hips against your palm.

“Oh yeah,” he whispers feverishly. “Yes... Don’t be afraid to treat me rough…”

“Oh trust me, I won’t,” you grope his leaking cock and balls in your hand, firmly like you own them, and he whines sweetly, looking up at you with excitement in half-narrowed eyes. When you slide your hand down and circle his entrance, he comes immediately, pressing himself against you.

You chuckle, kissing him.

“In my defense, I spent some long nights imagining you touching me, so I’m not taking criticisms on how quick I came,“ he mutters, squirming under you, cheeks blushing brightly. 

 You grin and stand up, moving away.

“Well, you’re not getting away that easily, kitten. I’ll be back shortly.“

When you walk back to the bed, he has finished taking off the last piece of the guard and is waiting for you, naked except for the elbow-high fishnet gloves and a choker.

“I have something that I think you would like,” you smirk, showing him a leash and he gasps, visibly lighting up.

“Have you thought about becoming a detective yourself? That’s spot on.”

“It wasn’t a very hard deduction to make,” you hook your fingers under his choker, lifting him up, and he follows, grinning under the bitten lip. He’s so lovely in how blushing and eager he is while you’re closing the leash on his neck, looking up at you from under the ruffled bangs.

You turn him around, so that he leans against the bedrest and he giggles, settling down on his knees.

“Oh, great, I wasn’t sure how to breach the subject of… consequences of being naughty.”

“You don’t try playing hard to get, do you?” you grin, slide your hand from his intentionally arched back to caress smooth skin of the perky ass, obviously and eagerly presented for you.

“No, why, would you want me to?” he shoots you a sharp glance over the shoulder, analytical even now.

“No,” you say pleasantly and slap his ass, hard. He gasps, shudders, but arches even more, presses quickly reddening, tender flesh harder against your hand. You spread him and run your fingers between his legs.“I like it when you’re being open.” 

“I don’t see the point in denying the obvious,” he says, still sounding mostly collected, if a little breathless in excitement. “And if I don’t show what I want, how will I get it?”

You strike his ass again, several times in a row, until it’s blooming red and he’s whining quiet and sweet, then you stroke it.

“Very logical of you,” you say, squeezing his sensitive ass while he’s squirming needily under your hands, and kiss the sharp curve of his shoulder, move his ruffled hair aside and get to his neck. “Unlike the stunt you tried to pull earlier.”

“Oh well, I miscalculated,” he says airly. “And it’s not as if I was trying to deceive you, it’s that I know that once people hear who I am they misjudge… the way I’d want to be treated. So I just wanted to make sure you get the right impression.”

You tug on the leash, pulling him close, his back against your chest. He gasps, arches his back and rubs his ass against you.

“Or you could’ve just said so honestly, you dumbass,” you run your hand over his chest down, close it over his cock and kiss him, still tugging on the leash. He kisses you back, eager and a little sloppy, rocks his hips, rutting against your palm. 

“Well, taking your advice on speaking openly,” he whispers breathlessly after breaking a kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “I’m close again and I want to come from you fucking me.”

“Good boy.”

You pull him into your lap, over the strap\cock, and he squirms, straddling your knees. You catch his chin, while he’s lowering himself over onto the head of your cock, make him meet your eyes, his own hazy green, cheeks bright in blush, pink lips half-open and taking short feverish breaths. You put your hands on his hips and push him all the way down until you’re fully buried in him, and he moans, shuddering and arching in your arms.

“Ah! Oh yes, yeah, like that, oh fuck…”

He rides you, his hips moving rhythmically and his hard cock bouncing against his stomach, but when you close your hand over it, he whines, digs his fingers into your shoulders.

“Please, no, I’ll come too soon if you touch me…”

You let him go and chuckle, pepper kisses over his neck, chest, lick over his pink hardened nipple, while he’s whimpering pleas and fucking himself on your cock.

“You’re really such a slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, I love it, I love how your cock feels inside of me, please…”

You tug on his leash, making him arch, suck on the tender juncture between his shoulder and neck. He comes just like that, screaming, his movements turning frantic. You push him down on his back, roll over him without taking your cock out.

“Can you take any more, kitten?”

“Yes.. yes, please keep fucking me,” he’s trembling under you, but says this firmly, looks you in the eye without hesitation, his ass clenching around you. “Use me like I’m your toy…”

You lift his legs up, pressing his knees against his chest, exposing his ass and thighs, still pink from spanking. You can see his oversensitive red cock getting hard just from being spread and exposed like that, and when you thrust deeply into him, he screams and tries to lift himself off the bed, writhing under you. You grip his hips and fuck him hard, hitting his prostate, until his mouth is going slack and his eyes roll over, his pleas turn into incoherent moans and whimpers. 

You lean down, cock buried deep inside him, kiss the corner of his mouth. He whines, his arms tightening around your shoulders and his hips rolling to take you even deeper.  

“You've been very good, kitten,” you whisper against his parted lips, his green eyes glittering with held tears. “Come for me, baby.”

He comes after a few thrusts, clutching at you, and you fuck him through it until he goes limp. Then you slide out of him, let him curl against you, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. You hold him and gently stroke his hair until he stops shivering, giving him time to come to senses before you’ll move to clean up.

“How fast will you want me to leave?” he asks, quietly, but his voice is firm, neutral. “I know I can be annoying in large doses, so if you need me to get out, I can…”

You silence him with a kiss, slow and sweet to calm him down. “It’s okay, kitten, you don’t annoy me. Don’t worry about it, just rest.”

He freezes for a second and then suddenly presses himself desperately against you, clutches at your shoulders. You stroke his hair, neck, sharp knobs of his spine soothingly, whisper sweet nothings in his ear until his body relaxes. He rubs his cheek against your chest and looks up with a cheeky grin.

“I am lucky that I’m cute, huh?”

#rhine writes filth #heizou #shikanoin heizou #dom reader #heizou x reader

[gold-rhine]

Sub! Heizou x GN Dom! Reader

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned.

Warnings: nsfw, overstim, slight degradation, spanking, leash play, anal sex, cock stands for strap\cock as usual.

Wordcount: 3k

I don’t think there needs to be a lot of analysis to justify Heizou being a sub, it’s fairly intentionally in your face in both hangout and ahem, birthday “yawning” art, because that’s the most most obvious bottom “O-face” since Gorou’s “moaning and tearing up over the bowl of onions” emoji.

Like in two endings he straight up says out loud his confidence is partly a facade and he’d really love for someone else to sometimes step up and take the charge, but no one does bc ppl think he’s too smart.

”Haha, well, as you might see, I’m a little less confident than people might think.”

“And everyone around me thinks I’m so smart that I should be able to handle every case on my own.<...> But you’re different. Unlike them, you don’t have that kind of prejudice towards me. <...> So I’d like you to decide whether we should expose the truth or not.”

He’s not a pushover and he’s not a pillow princess-y type, but he’s also not a brat. He’ll encourage you to take the lead and won’t criticize your choices, but he will *evaluate them*.

First of all, on how well you’re keeping up with his hyperactive ADHD goblin nature, and second, he’ll leave the unspoken puzzle and see if you’ll manage to figure it out.

He’s open for experimentation and fairly shameless, but how far he’ll go pretty much depends on if he judges you competent enough for this.

Like, meeting him in the hangout starts with him openly calling Traveler “so dreamy”, and then he lets the Traveler decide what course of action to take, but only divulges hidden information after the Traveler showed that they have a deeper understanding of a situation and connected several puzzle dots themselves.

His inner conflict is when it’s immoral or not to withhold information and does it depend on how capable a person given this information is. The law does not really factor into this, Heizou will act on his own principles instead.

Like in the hangout case he only tells the Traveler that he will follow their choice (see above) after the Traveler presents him with the evidence and proves they have sound judgment.

So he’d *LIKE* to let someone else make decisions, but he wants to make sure that someone else is qualified. So he won’t like outright lie, but he will withhold context if you don’t show him that you get it.

Then he can get quite clingy, like telling Traveler that he’d love to have them as a partner all the time, haha he’s joking, he wouldn’t want to be so greedy…UNLESS???

In a situation where he does trust the other person’s competence, he likes to feel helpless, overpowered and needy, if you indulge him in it. His ideal situation is where you understand that he’s smart and capable himself and he doesn’t strictly need you to take charge, but would enjoy it.

He wants to have fun without anyone making it too weird, and he wants to know you have a clear head on your shoulders, that’s it.

One day while you’re walking down the street near your home, a group of obvious miscreants runs by and a young man in white shirt and brown shorts follows them. The last of ruffians shoves him while they’re running past you and you catch him to stop him from hitting a corner of a house with his head. When the bandit looks back, you instinctively shield a man in your arms with your shoulder, and the bandit obviously judges it not worth the trouble, runs away.

When you look at the man you’re holding, he’s looking up at you with a wide smile, bright green eyes twinkling.

“Oh, thank you, my savior!”

“I didn’t do anything,” you say, putting him upright. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine!” he suddenly pauses, looks you over and says in a weaker tone, leaning into you. “I mean, I’m a little not fine, nothing major, but perhaps if someone could look after me for just a little bit?...”

You take him to get coffee just to keep an eye on him and end up talking for hours. His name is Heizou, he’s flirty, fun and cute, has ruffled mauve hair and little twin moles under his eyes, asks more questions than he’d like to answer about himself, wears a choker and a shirt that leaves his sides bare, and would very obviously love to get dommed from how he talks to you. But you cannot in good conscience take advantage of him now, because his eagerness might be an effect from the shock, so you let him go.

Day later you talk with a neighbor and he mentions how the young detective who from his words meets Heizou’s description just caught a group of pickpockets.

“Detective, huh?” you ask out loud, and some things that didn’t make sense before fall into place. Like an exaggerated weak affect and how eagerly he pushed himself on you.

Couple of days after you walk into a confrontation in one of the secluded courtyards on the way to your home. There’s Heizou and opposite of him a group headed by the large white-haired oni. It looks incredibly awkward and staged.

“Oh, it’s my savior again!” Heizou says coquettishly, smiling at you. “Hello there! It seems you’re just in time to save me once again.”

“From what?” you say calmly, crossing your arms.

“From being mugged, of course.”

“So these guys need to be arrested, huh?”

A tall oni starts shifting nervously, looking back and forth from you to Heizou.

“Hey, hey, we didn’t agree on…”

A green-haired woman elbows him and he stumbles.

“I mean, you can’t arrest us, we’re big bad bandits, rawr!”

You ignore him, looking Heizou straight in the eyes. He pauses for a second, then pretends to be fainting in your direction. You catch him, rolling your eyes. Green-haired woman punches the oni in his side and they run away with the entire group.

“Oh, thank you,” Heizou says, looking artistically disheveled in your arms.

“No problem, Detective,” you say coldly and he tenses, straightens up.

“So you know…”

“Yeah. And I don’t appreciate being played for a fool.”

“Listen, it’s not like that… It’s just that I... I wanted you to treat me like a sub, but you didn’t do anything after we first met, and I thought maybe if you see me in an even weaker state...”

“I didn’t do anything because you seemed too irrational from shock. If you just told me the truth that you’re detective and were fine, you’d be spread on my bed few nights ago.“

He blushes, but his green eyes light up.

“I would? Oh, I mean, I am fine and we cleared the misunderstandings, so?... Um? About spreading?“

You shake your head, narrowing your eyes.

“Only come to me if you’re ready to drop your bullshit. I’m sure you can figure out how to find me, Detective.“

“Hey there!” he’s bouncing on your threshold a day after with the widest obnoxious smile, and you wouldn’t see the tinge of nervousness under it if you weren't paying attention. “So you said I can come if I dropped the bullshit and um, you can pat me over, including cavity search if you want, to make sure I haven’t got any on me”

You roll your eyes, hooking your fingers under his choker, pull him close and kiss him. He stumbles for a second, but then melts, throws his arms around your neck and presses against you. You can feel him getting hard as you pull him towards the bedroom and then throw him roughly onto the bed. He looks up, his green eyes sparkling in delight.

“Cavity search?” you say incredulously, crawling over him to slide your hands under his shirt and pulling off both of his layers. “That was terrible.”

“I know, I know, I panicked,” he moves his arms to help you get the shirt off, then pulls frantically at the ties of the armguards. “I was going to say you have a search warrant, but somehow it turned into a cavity search.”

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” you grin against his cheek and pull his pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. He gasps, and when you grab his ankles and forcefully spread his legs, he blushes but looks you straight in the eye, already fully hard and breathless in excitement.

“I am? I mean, of course I am, but do tell me more about it.”

You kiss him instead, roam your hands over his slender body, and he arches under you, moans against your mouth. You slide your hand down, close it over hard, twitching cock and he whines, bucks his hips against your palm.

“Oh yeah,” he whispers feverishly. “Yes... Don’t be afraid to treat me rough…”

“Oh trust me, I won’t,” you grope his leaking cock and balls in your hand, firmly like you own them, and he whines sweetly, looking up at you with excitement in half-narrowed eyes. When you slide your hand down and circle his entrance, he comes immediately, pressing himself against you.

You chuckle, kissing him.

“In my defense, I spent some long nights imagining you touching me, so I’m not taking criticisms on how quick I came,“ he mutters, squirming under you, cheeks blushing brightly.

You grin and stand up, moving away.

“Well, you’re not getting away that easily, kitten. I’ll be back shortly.“

When you walk back to the bed, he has finished taking off the last piece of the guard and is waiting for you, naked except for the elbow-high fishnet gloves and a choker.

“I have something that I think you would like,” you smirk, showing him a leash and he gasps, visibly lighting up.

“Have you thought about becoming a detective yourself? That’s spot on.”

“It wasn’t a very hard deduction to make,” you hook your fingers under his choker, lifting him up, and he follows, grinning under the bitten lip. He’s so lovely in how blushing and eager he is while you’re closing the leash on his neck, looking up at you from under the ruffled bangs.

You turn him around, so that he leans against the bedrest and he giggles, settling down on his knees.

“Oh, great, I wasn’t sure how to breach the subject of… consequences of being naughty.”

“You don’t try playing hard to get, do you?” you grin, slide your hand from his intentionally arched back to caress smooth skin of the perky ass, obviously and eagerly presented for you.

“No, why, would you want me to?” he shoots you a sharp glance over the shoulder, analytical even now.

“No,” you say pleasantly and slap his ass, hard. He gasps, shudders, but arches even more, presses quickly reddening, tender flesh harder against your hand. You spread him and run your fingers between his legs.“I like it when you’re being open.”

“I don’t see the point in denying the obvious,” he says, still sounding mostly collected, if a little breathless in excitement. “And if I don’t show what I want, how will I get it?”

You strike his ass again, several times in a row, until it’s blooming red and he’s whining quiet and sweet, then you stroke it.

“Very logical of you,” you say, squeezing his sensitive ass while he’s squirming needily under your hands, and kiss the sharp curve of his shoulder, move his ruffled hair aside and get to his neck. “Unlike the stunt you tried to pull earlier.”

“Oh well, I miscalculated,” he says airly. “And it’s not as if I was trying to deceive you, it’s that I know that once people hear who I am they misjudge… the way I’d want to be treated. So I just wanted to make sure you get the right impression.”

You tug on the leash, pulling him close, his back against your chest. He gasps, arches his back and rubs his ass against you.

“Or you could’ve just said so honestly, you dumbass,” you run your hand over his chest down, close it over his cock and kiss him, still tugging on the leash. He kisses you back, eager and a little sloppy, rocks his hips, rutting against your palm.

“Well, taking your advice on speaking openly,” he whispers breathlessly after breaking a kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “I’m close again and I want to come from you fucking me.”

“Good boy.”

You pull him into your lap, over the strap\cock, and he squirms, straddling your knees. You catch his chin, while he’s lowering himself over onto the head of your cock, make him meet your eyes, his own hazy green, cheeks bright in blush, pink lips half-open and taking short feverish breaths. You put your hands on his hips and push him all the way down until you’re fully buried in him, and he moans, shuddering and arching in your arms.

“Ah! Oh yes, yeah, like that, oh fuck…”

He rides you, his hips moving rhythmically and his hard cock bouncing against his stomach, but when you close your hand over it, he whines, digs his fingers into your shoulders.

“Please, no, I’ll come too soon if you touch me…”

You let him go and chuckle, pepper kisses over his neck, chest, lick over his pink hardened nipple, while he’s whimpering pleas and fucking himself on your cock.

“You’re really such a slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, I love it, I love how your cock feels inside of me, please…”

You tug on his leash, making him arch, suck on the tender juncture between his shoulder and neck. He comes just like that, screaming, his movements turning frantic. You push him down on his back, roll over him without taking your cock out.

“Can you take any more, kitten?”

“Yes.. yes, please keep fucking me,” he’s trembling under you, but says this firmly, looks you in the eye without hesitation, his ass clenching around you. “Use me like I’m your toy…”

You lift his legs up, pressing his knees against his chest, exposing his ass and thighs, still pink from spanking. You can see his oversensitive red cock getting hard just from being spread and exposed like that, and when you thrust deeply into him, he screams and tries to lift himself off the bed, writhing under you. You grip his hips and fuck him hard, hitting his prostate, until his mouth is going slack and his eyes roll over, his pleas turn into incoherent moans and whimpers.

You lean down, cock buried deep inside him, kiss the corner of his mouth. He whines, his arms tightening around your shoulders and his hips rolling to take you even deeper.  

“You've been very good, kitten,” you whisper against his parted lips, his green eyes glittering with held tears. “Come for me, baby.”

He comes after a few thrusts, clutching at you, and you fuck him through it until he goes limp. Then you slide out of him, let him curl against you, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. You hold him and gently stroke his hair until he stops shivering, giving him time to come to senses before you’ll move to clean up.

“How fast will you want me to leave?” he asks, quietly, but his voice is firm, neutral. “I know I can be annoying in large doses, so if you need me to get out, I can…”

You silence him with a kiss, slow and sweet to calm him down. “It’s okay, kitten, you don’t annoy me. Don’t worry about it, just rest.”

He freezes for a second and then suddenly presses himself desperately against you, clutches at your shoulders. You stroke his hair, neck, sharp knobs of his spine soothingly, whisper sweet nothings in his ear until his body relaxes. He rubs his cheek against your chest and looks up with a cheeky grin.

“I am lucky that I’m cute, huh?”

#rhine writes filth #rhine writes #sub genshin #genshin smut #sub heizou #heizou #dom reader #sub character

[crossdressingdeath]

You know, thinking about it, I was wrong before. Nico has more reason to trust Hades than Percy does Poseidon at the time of the incident in TLO!

If you think about it, Percy's only evidence that Nico should've known it was a trap is that "[Nico] know[s] what [Hades]'s like", but... Nico's view of Hades would be much different from Percy's. Remember, Nico has a room in the palace at this time; Hades couldn't send him to his room the way he does later if he didn't have a room to be sent to. He's been living there! Hades allows him to live there! At this point Nico doesn't know that Hades used to visit him, Maria and Bianca regularly or that he actively stepped in to protect Nico and Bianca from Zeus and keep them safe until the time of Titan's Curse, but he does know that Hades is letting him live in his palace. Gods don't do that. Percy has to nearly die to even get a brief visit to Poseidon's palace, and he very openly knows that Poseidon wouldn't have claimed him to begin with if he didn't need him. Not to mention Poseidon has that whole thing where he explicitly tells Percy he wishes he didn't exist, which... is the sort of thing that's gonna have a negative impact on how you view your dad.

So when Percy says that Nico knows what Hades is like, what he's saying is basically... "The Underworld is evil and Hades is evil, how could you not know that," which is kind of an incredibly shitty thing to say to the child of Hades living in the Underworld? I mean, it is kind of just "You shouldn't trust your father because I think he's evil and the Underworld is evil", if I was Nico I'd be very concerned about what Percy thought of me when he started spouting that shit. Anyway, while Hades is far from a good father at this point in the series Nico still knows him as the father who is letting him live in his palace because he has nowhere to go, stepping well outside the usual bounds of gods interacting with their kids in the process. Hell, unless I've forgotten something (possible), it's entirely possible that by this point in the timeline Hades has already told Nico about Camp Jupiter (which would show a huge amount of faith in him, again above and beyond any other godly parent). Hades can be kind of a dick because all gods are dicks to their kids, but Nico has no particular reason not to trust him! Especially given Nico has exactly zero other adults in his life offering him any support and at this point in the timeline he doesn't remember his mother, so Hades is basically all he's got and he has no points of comparison other than his also-a-child sister who kinda sorta abandoned him (not going into her reasoning here but it was A Thing that would probably influence the way Nico thought about... caregivers, I guess, for lack of a better term to describe the twelve year old put in charge of her little brother) and Minos (who is... Minos. Enough said). It makes sense that when Hades says "Do this small thing for me and I'll tell you about your mother" Nico believes him, because while Hades has been awful to Nico at times there's no evidence that he's ever lied to him. Why should Nico doubt his father who gave him a place to stay when he had nothing and no one just because that father happens to be Hades and the place to stay happens to be the Underworld?

...Also in hindsight knowing just how much Hades spoils Nico (for a godly parent at least) in the future makes the "You know what Hades is like" thing kind of hilarious. Ah yes, the guy who gives Nico a place to stay when he has nowhere to go despite gods Not Doing That, tells him at least some of the gods' most guarded secrets and essentially takes it on faith that he'll keep his mouth shut, lets him get away with breaking the law that the dead stay dead without even a slap on the wrist, promises him a place in the palace when he eventually dies (which may or may not imply that Hades intends to make Nico a god when he bites it, but it's certainly not normal procedure for Underworld kids), tells him to his face he deserves everything, and backs up that claim by fulfilling his wishes with no payment required or debt accrued just because Nico asked if Hades thinking he deserved everything meant he'd do so (because Nico is a little shit, we love to see it) despite Hades claiming that wasn't actually what he meant. Why would Nico trust that guy? (I know, I know, it's not proof of anything at this point because most of that hasn't happened yet. But it is funny how completely Percy's claim that Nico should distrust his dad is eventually proved wrong by Hades spoiling his kid rotten.)

#riordanverse #nico di angelo #hades pjo #tsats spoilers #i guess? a little bit #anyway percy claiming that nico should've distrusted hades basically on principle becomes so funny #after it becomes super apparent that actually even by hoo nico could probably get anything he wanted from hades just by asking #meanwhile percy basically never talks to his dad #like if we're talking about whether one of these two should trust his father i don't think percy comes out on top! #which makes this whole thing pretty entertaining in hindsight

[punkshitposts]

genuine question, sorry if it's stupid or something

I'm all for ACAB truly, I mean that

but genuinely... if let's say someone I know goes missing or gets severely injured, what do I do instead of call the cops?

This ISN'T a stupid question at all actually this is a really common thing that comes up on both sides of the pro vs anti cop debate:

there's no good answer i can currently give you, and any answer i CAN give might not be accurate to where you live. AFAIK, in America, you can't call 911 and specifically request they don't send cops (I guess you can, but the operator doesn't have to abide by your request). In America, at least, our system just isn't set up to minimize cop interactions because cops ARE the center of the system. Telling you that you can absolutely in all circumstances get away with not interacting with cops would be irresponsible of me- you don't have to like it, I definitely don't, but until a better one is put in place we'll occasionally have to use the system to get what we want and need.

any potential 911 alternatives are generally situation specific and regional.

so, what can you do instead:

INJURY: assess. is this person already critical?

YES: you are likely going to have to bite the bullet to call 911, unless you live somewhere you can call the emergency direct to EMS.

NO: Can you move them? Can you or someone else transport them? Will they MAKE it to the hospital using these means of transportate? <- if all of these are YES, take them directly to the Emergency Room yourself and forgoe 911. If any are NO: you are likely going to need to call 911 and interact the cops that show up to save injured person.

MISSING PERSON: I don't think I can in good faith tell you that this would be a situation where you could avoid cops. It could both further any potential danger the missing individual is in, and i believe not filing a report could potentially get you yourself into trouble.

what you may be able to do instead: assess. Where SHOULD the person be? Is there any likely alternative places they could be at? can you or someone else check those places? What reason could they have to not be in the place they should be? Is this out-of-character? How long has it been since they were last seen? Do you believe they could be in danger?

Depending on the answers: First: Assuming that to classify someone as a "Missing Person", several people know their missing and not just you. if that's wrong... you should probably go tell other people. Second: I hate to say it. This is a bite-the-bullet and file a report. Third: Call applicable hotlines. Fourth: Organize search efforts. While official channels have now been used for all legal reasons, Do Not Rely On Them.

YOU ARE IN ACTIVE DANGER: Assess. Do you have the time or ability to call someone else to come help you?

YES: Make contact attempt with this person. With key words being "Active Danger", it is might probably be time to bite-the-bullet again after that. Self-Defense laws vary wildly regionally, even city-to-city, so know what yours are ahead of this. If you have to defend yourself and the offender is injured or killed, the 911 call will in most cases help you PROVE self defense.

NO: See above, minus first sentence. For clarity, I'm NOT using"Active Danger" as ye olde hostile interaction or generalized unsafe situations, but more on the lines of "active home invasion" or "person actively Trying to kill me dead right at this very second"

im not going to tell you that you should absolutely never call 911, that's incredibly irresponsible of me. im not going to tell you to let yourself or someone else die to avoid cops. in an ideal world, we would have a completely different system to use wherein "is it safer to call or to not call emergency services?" isn't a question anyone has to ask, but we don't live in that word right now. And, again and as always please feel free to add your own opinions, stances, takes, ect and to ask me to clarify things that don't make sense. This is an incredibly loaded topic that I make no claims to be an expert on, but I did answer you to the best of my current ability. I apologize for any and all clunky/awkward wordings and phrasings , and this post will probably get edited™ sometime in the future.

#i dont LIKE the fact that this is how things work but rhetoric that to think acab= you cannot use the system when vitally necessary #is imo dangerous for the above reasons. you can both dislike and want to remove the system #while also acknowledging that regardless of its morals. its the Only One In Place Right Now and you therefore dont have have that many #alternatives when emergencies happen. #~ mod crash #long post #acab #Edits made after posting: fixed typos

[some-rotten-nest]

Random DC/DP headcannons bc I can't sleep

Expect many typos

Danny hates storms, especially thunderstorms bc of the lighting cracking in the sky

Danny wears a power cuff like a bracelet that dampens his more violent powers bc he's scared of them (wail, large-scale ice like with undergrowth etc)

In one of his magazines, instead of bullets Jason keeps solid ectoplasm just in case, and so it's not conspicous

In his Phantom form Danny has a streak of black hair where his white usually is

Jason is fright knight (unless it's a Jason-Danny biologically related fic. Ghost Zone law says no one you share blood with (clones included) can become fright knight (but they can join the court and have other ranks))

Danny made a contingency plan against himself and with the help of a sibling (Cass most likely, though she did seem a bit sad) got it on the bat-computer. Password protected so Danny can't get into it. Bruce doesn't know and won't know until/if Danny goes bad. Bruce made a separate one for him.

Tim gets low and non-harmfil doses of ectoplasm in his coffee bc it is like a shit ton of caffeine for a living person. (Yes, some Amity Park drinks have ectoplasm in them too)

Danny asks Bruce, Tim and Lucius for help with Ghost King Shit TM

Duke has to squint when looking directly at ectoplasm (Danny's trying to find some solution but there isn't one)

Jason has a shadow core

Damian got extinct animals from Danny as a birthday gift multiple times (a dodo bird named Delilah, a messenger pigeon names Luke and a splendid posion frog named Ares)

To piss Bruce off, Jason got a pterodactyl he's named Flynn that he takes on patrol. Safe to safe, people get a hella more scared of Red Hood. Bruce hates it but Jason does actually love Flynn and Bruce can't bring himself to take Flynn awya

Danny made a patrol playlist for every member of the bat family and beyond bc he has one for when he goes out as Phantom (they all listen to their playlists and love them)

Before Danny was fully pulled into the family, he'd flinch at Dick's escrima sticks and still catches himself staring the weapon, his heart pounding

Danny found out Captain Marvel was a kid bc while on a mission with him, Captain Marvel pointed out that there was a pirate ship hovering above them and that Danny should probably deal with that. He'd, and any other Amity Parker that overhead, never laughed so badly in his entire life. Billy was never so scared & confused.

Bart and Danny are friends bc Dan had leveled most of the future before the Beatles took over what was left (I'm actually not that sure about Bart's backstory so feel free to correct me if something's wrong here)

Cass and Danny have staring contests alot. Sometimes the others think they've fallen asleep with their eyes open. They didn't.

Danny had a Twitter account for Phantom without Bruce knowing, but when Steph was trying to convince Bruce to let her have one she mentioned it and Danny had to delete it (he has an alt he now posts every embarrassing thing Batman does and has ever done)

Puns. So many puns between Dick & Danny.

Danny mumbles in his sleep

Crows flock to Danny like hungry tigers. Damian's envious but he gets to pet & feed them so it's mostly okay.

GW likes Jason and let's him borrow books whenever he wants to (also any destroyed book ends up with GW but that's a pretty common hc) but Jason has to swear not to give them to Danny. Not that Danny wants them.

Duke is helping Tucker out with studies and Tucker Duke with tech. Technus sometimes shows up too to help.

Johnny and Jason are dEAD bffs

Sam and Babs get on like a house on fire

Talia met Danny and they're actually friendly to each other. Sure, she's trying to trick Danny into giving her his throne, but Danny knew that and wasn't about to let that happen

Danny will randomly punch his siblings, smirk, then bow and say "my leige" and run away. The sibling now has the crown and is chasing to punch Danny back because honestly fuck that

Constantine is slightly terrified of Danny and Bruce uses it like a threat-- "John, if you don't answer, Danny will contact you." It works like a charm

When too excited, Danny and Jason will start talking in Ghost speech. It freaks everyone else but Damian and Cass out bc the same sounds came from the pits

Take, edit, have fun with whatever you want here. It's just bs that crawls around my brain for funsies and won't let me sleep.

#danny phandom #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp dc crossover #dc/dp #bruce wayne #damian wayne #danny phantom x dc #ghost king danny #dc dp au #dc batfam #dc red robin #dc batman #dc robin #dc au #dc headcanon #dp crossover #dp headcanons #dc x dp crossover #headcannons #batfam headcanons #jason todd #dick grayson #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #duke thomas #johnny 13 #tucker foley #sam manson

[aressida]

What is the Digital Identity Bill?

It's the glue that holds together the digital control agenda by which every Australian will be controlled, corralled, exploited and then gagged when they speak or act in opposition.

The government knows Digital ID will be compulsory by the device of preventing access to government services, banking services, air travel and major purchases for any Australian who does not have a Digital ID.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Digital ID cannot be stopped But can we cut off its balls?

In my opinion there is not much chance of stopping digital id entirely with the current ownership of the opposition party, Libs-Nats, and with so many Labor Greens and Teals in parliament.

Our best hope is to win some concessions… by politely demanding (by phone, or in person) each of our local MPs propose or support another member proposing the following amendments or they will lose your vote and a dozen of your friends and family’s votes at the next election.

Required Amendments:

(1) ensure there are strong and broad protections against any person, entity, business, government, etc making digital ID compulsory for any purpose whatsoever (be that to gain or maintain employment, be it to access a space or place, be it to purchase (or even to receive for free) any goods or services, to receive or access any payments or services from the government, etc).

(2) ensure the protections are sufficiently broad to protect from “nudging”. For example special queues for people with/without digital ID (where one group is treated with a different level of service), for example cutting back on staffing for face to face traditional ID verification processes, or any other practice which could be seen by a reasonable person to make non digital ID options less convenient.

(3) amend the Bill to ensure that no one should be able to veto the protections outlined in (1) and (2) for any reason whatsoever, not even the relevant minister.

(4) also update consumer rights laws and privacy laws to enhance and complement the above protections (especially against it becoming mandatory or mandatory adjacent or as mandatory as possible).

Read on to understand why asking your MP to simply vote against it will probably be worse….

It is not good enough to ask Lib Nats to vote against Digital ID outright. There’s not enough of them by themselves.

We also know the Greens and Teals are willing to vote FOR it in its current form. We saw that in the Senate.

Labor plus Greens in the lower house is more than enough to push it through.

Therefore we have to (a) scare the pants off labor/greens/teals backbenchers, especially any of them who only won on slim margins or saw huge swings against them last election. Make it clear they need to do what we the people in their electorates want or they are risking their future in politics.

However, Labor MPs almost never ‘cross the floor’ and vote against their party. They risk expulsion from their party, and then they will probably lose their seat at the next election. Again, they’re scared of losing their job as MP.

So option 1 (tell them to vote against Digital ID) is a non-starter. Labor MPs will not do that unless their whole party decides not to - which is highly unlikely. We will simply end up with Digital ID legislation in its current form with minimal protections from it becoming mandatory.

So we need to convince the Labor MPs to take the amendments issue to the Party room meetings to get the suggested amendments through. I.e. we need to scare them enough." - JS Digital ID. Telegram.

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#australia #auspol #digital identity

[skzsauce01]

Over the Moonshine

Synopsis: Although you enjoy dancing during your outings to 44th House, you are far more interested in one of the bartenders working there. Your siblings will never let you live it down, but their teasing is a small price to pay if you can spend time with Chan. 1920s/Prohibition AU.

Warning: alcohol

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: f!reader x bartender!Bang Chan

Other Notable Characters: Yeji and Hyunjin as your siblings

Prohibition was meant to be a boon for the country, but it has been more of a nuisance than anything. Father has the doctor coming to the house nearly every week to write him prescriptions of whiskey, and Mother awaits new shipments of grape bricks from California to turn into wine. Lest one think that only your parents defying the law, your brother knows runners for rum, and you and your sister have successfully made moonshine multiple times.

Really, if you think about it, it’s the government’s fault for foolishly believing they could force temperance onto its citizens. Prohibition. What a seductive word. It practically encouraged misconduct.

As you step out of the car, the autumn chill sending shivers down your spine, a familiar thrill envelops you. Speakeasies are nothing new, and though this is your fifth time visiting 44th House, you feel as if lightning is coursing through your blood. Inside your beaded bag hides a sample of your latest moonshine batch. Yeji has secured her own silver flask to her garter for her to sip on throughout the night, but you intend to share your portion with someone special.

“I should have worn my cape,” Yeji says as she links her arm through yours. The beads of her dress clack against yours, and her fur stole tickles your bare arms. “You were smart.”

“You’ll dance and drink the cold away,” you assure her, eliciting a laugh from her. “Hyunjin, what’s taking you so long? Your hair’s fine.”

He gives his reflection one last check in Yeji’s compact mirror before handing it back to her. You were deliberate with your appearance tonight as well, yet you itch to tease him for his vanity. The temptation grows even stronger when he pauses his walk down the pavement to adjust his tie.

“The wind mussed everything up on the drive,” he complains. 

“Should’ve taken the coupe like I suggested,” Yeji replies. She glances over at you, and a familiar mischievous expression crosses her face. “Unless you’re trying to impress someone with the Rolls Royce? Finally got a girl, have you?”

Before Hyunjin can retort, you archly add, “Who’s the lucky lady? Should we start planning the wedding, or will you break her heart like you did with the last one? She still calls the house, you know.”

“You’re both awful.”

While you and Yeji titter over your brother’s missteps in love, he knocks on the front door of the building. Above the golden “44TH STREET ANTIQUES,” the small window at eye level slides open. A set of dark brown eyes peer out, and a disembodied voice asks what they can assist you with. Changbin, you realize, which means that someone else is working the bar in his place, most likely Chan.

“I’m looking for a silver pocket watch engraved with the name ‘Paris Singer,’” Hyunjin says. 

The door unlocks and swings open, revealing the interior of an antique shop. Mahogany dressers and wing chairs line the walls of the establishment, and silver tea sets sit behind locked cabinets. Though the items themselves are pristine, the faint smell of dust hints at the amount of history the shop holds. Whatever many secrets these pieces hold, the only secret you wish to uncover is hidden behind a silk screen printed with birds: the staircase leading to where the true 44th House is. With only flickering light fixtures for guidance, you descend.

“Excited to see your beau, Miss Railroad Heiress?” Hyunjin says. The jazz music grows increasingly loud as you near the basement. “You think he’ll give me the good gin if I ask him nicely this time?”

How Chan managed to pick you out amongst the crowd is still a mystery to you, especially since you were nowhere near Hyunjin and Yeji at the time. The Hwang sibling trio is instantly recognizable together but separate? Just ordinary, albeit beautiful, faces.

“He’s not my beau.” Yet. “And how do you even know about that name?”

Yeji hops down the last step with grace, landing onto the stone floor with a satisfying clack. “Because we’re not deaf, Miss Railroad Heiress. Now come back with something good for us, please and thank you.” 

She smiles innocently at your exasperation, takes your arm, and guides you to the final door. When Hyunjin pushes it open, the whole world erupts with jazz and laughter, bringing an instant grin to your face. Men in pastel striped shirts and women in gold embroidered dresses swing and sway together, arms and legs snapping back and forth. The live band and flapper girls on stage encourage onlookers to join the rest of the party.

As expected, Yeji and Hyunjin forget about teasing you in favor of the dance floor. Meanwhile, you stick to the sides, weaving between the tables to make your way to the bar. A tipsy woman runs her hand through your fur cape and compliments you, and another woman trills with glee when she notices the number of beads you have on your person. 

A man drinking with his friends calls, “Find me for a dance later!”

“Oh, I will!” you shout back. You blow him a kiss, to the amusement of the table, before disappearing into the crowds once more.

Even from a distance, you spy Chan chatting up a patron as he pours him a drink. Minho is on the other end of the bar, showing off his skills with a tin shaker. Neither of them have a jacket on, only a black vest, so they must be exceptionally busy. Saturday evenings always are. Well, that has never stopped you from flirting with Chan before. You’d rather dance with him rather than a stranger, but a dance is a dance, no matter who it’s with. 

After Chan finishes someone else’s cocktail, you take their place, prop your arms on the wooden counter, and flash him a coy smile. “Hey, bartender. Can I get two bee’s knees and two of something made with this?”  

You pull out your flask of moonshine and slide it across the bar. Your initials are monogrammed on the front in curling letters, and your heart jumps when he brushes his thumb over the grooves. “You can give it a try if you like. Made it myself.”

“Did you really, Miss Railroad Heiress? You didn’t strike me as the sort to mess with a distiller,” he remarks. Nevertheless, he unscrews the top and takes a sip. “Not half bad. Be better in a ward eight though. Two, you said?”

“Yes. One of them’s for you.”

His arm hangs in mid-air, the bottle of lemon juice forgotten. “For me? How come?”

“I brought my moonshine because I wanted you to have a taste, so why not? Besides, you just said it would taste better in a ward eight. Let’s put it to the test.”

He laughs and starts again. You watch him pour and mix with fascination, and a childish delight washes over you when he drops two maraschino cherries into one of the glasses. You’ve asked for at least one cherry in every one of your cocktails at the 44th House. Changbin rarely obliges if the recipe book doesn’t call for it, but Chan never forgets.

He hands you back your flask and taps his glass against yours. “Here’s to you, Miss Moonshine.” 

The drink is perfect—sweet with a hint of lemon. You pluck out a cherry floating at the top, pull off the stem, and thoughtfully chew on the fruit. “Is that my new name?”

“There are two Miss Railroad Heiresses running around, after all. I need some way to tell them apart.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him that Yeji also knows her way around a distiller. But as far as you know, Chan has never spoken to Yeji before and likely never will since she sends you to the bar in her stead, so your skin tingles with fire as you hear the words “Miss Moonshine” roll off his tongue. It’s just as alluring as “prohibition.” Maybe it’s the whiskey talking.

(It’s definitely not.)

“Let me get your other drinks,” he says. Then he leans in conspiratorially close, his eyes glimmering under the honey-colored lights. “Stay until closing? I’ll do my best to sneak a dance with you.”

Before you can reply, a man in a herringbone suit saunters up to the counter and asks for a Chicago fizz. He glances over at you with practiced nonchalance, and you realize that it’s the same person who you blew a kiss to. He’s quite handsome up close, even if his airs are rehearsed. 

“Hello again,” he greets. His smile is dangerous, reminiscent of a serpentine path you drove on once in the countryside. “Are you free, by any chance? If I remember right, you promised me a dance.”

Chan has reverted to being a bartender, measuring syrup with a careful eye while eavesdropping on the conversation occurring in front of him. You’re a flirt but only with Chan; he has nothing to worry about. Unfortunately, he can’t read minds, so he sets down two bee’s knees in question: Will you stay until closing?

You consider pretending that the music is loud enough to drown out the stranger’s voice, but he seems to be the persistent sort. Reluctantly, you pop the remaining cherry in your mouth and tug the stem out from between your teeth. “What was your name again?”

“Seungmin.”

“One dance,” you agree. “But before and after that, I’m busy until the night ends. Thank you again, Mister Bartender.”

Chan relaxes and nods in acknowledgement. While Seungmin waits for his Chicago fizz, you take the drinks and roam around the speakeasy, looking for Yeji and Hyunjin. The room has grown more crowded, and a thin layer of perspiration graces your back. You press one of the sweating glasses to your cheek as you scan the groups that have formed. Yeji was the smart one, not you. 

You eventually find Hyunjin surrounded by a gaggle of women. His hair and button-down are more disheveled than they were after the drive, yet he doesn’t seem to care a whit now that he has admirers. He may deny it, but he thrives off of attention.

“Whose heart are you breaking tonight?” you ask as you slink up to the table. With two out of the trio present, a few of the more timid ladies make way for you. “Should I prepare apology flowers in the morning? And where’s Yeji?”

To his credit, he doesn’t blush at your comments. He’s more enamored by the cocktails in your hand. “Somewhere. What are these?”

“Gin. I still have some of my whiskey, if you want. We’re staying until they close tonight, by the way.”

After being subjected to tasting your previous moonshine experiments, he no longer enjoys whiskey, so he accepts the gin. “Sure. Did your friend make this?”

A wave of giggles courses through Hyunjin’s flock, and an image of your name in the society papers appears behind your eyelids. If you are to land in the papers again, it will be of your own volition, not Hyunjin’s mouth. “Any one who can make a good drink is a friend of mine. I’ll call the florist later.”

Before he can retaliate, you scurry off to find Yeji who is “somewhere.” After mistaking a woman with a similar stole for her and dodging a gallery of swinging limbs, you spy her in the middle of the floor, doing the Charleston while spectators observe her. With a blood orange drink in hand, Seungmin is among them, watching Yeji with curiosity. When she finally spots you, she dances her way over to you, onlookers cheering her on, and snatches the refreshment from your hand.

“Send Chan my thanks,” she says in between breaths. She leans against your shoulder and tries to pass off her stole to you. “Please? You’re not doing anything.”

As if he can sense your exasperation, Seungmin emerges from the sea of people and extends his arm out to you. “How about it?” 

You shoot your sister a pointed look. “I’d love to.”

You’re not as nimble as Yeji or as limber as Hyunjin—few people are—but your footwork is on par with theirs after years of practicing with them, and your passion makes up for the rest of your lacking skills. Seungmin is a decent partner, in spite of his attempts to chat with you throughout. 

“You sure you’re not free later?” he asks after the song ends. Flushed with exertion, he loosens his tie. “Not even for a drink? I’ll buy.”

“I can buy my own, thank you.”

You say your goodbyes to Seungmin and collapse against Yeji, who has sweet-talked a departing party into giving up their table for her. As she helps you shrug off your cape, you open your bag for your flask. The whiskey pleasantly stings as it goes down.

“Have you given up on Chan already? Your new guy is a looker, but I like Chan more.”

You explain to her the details of your arrangement, fully anticipating her to tease you throughout.  And she does. The wedding invitations will read “Miss Railroad Heiress and Mister Bartender,” and the wedding itself will take place at 44th House in honor of your first meeting. As she continues, you shut your eyes and do your best to concentrate on the surrounding conversations. You don’t care about the latest stove innovation, but it’s far less maddening than Yeji. 

In the midst of it all, having missed the company of his sisters, Hyunjin joins the table. No one trails after him, no one comes up to drag him away, which would have been favorable. What a disappointment; no hearts will be broken tonight. Worst of all, he, too, gives you grief for being enamored by Chan.

“Should I let you drive the car home, so you can impress him?” he says, earning a sigh from you. “Now that I think about it, you did insist on taking the convertible.”

“And you took an awful long time fixing your hair before we left!” adds Yeji. “Really, you and Hyunjin are more alike than you think.”

“Hey!”

How else will you pass the time if not for your bothersome brother and sister? You let Hyunjin argue for you and permit your eyes to wander to where Chan is still working. Dozens of patrons surround the bar, so you can only catch glimpses of him through the gaps between heads. You doubt he saw it, but what did he think of you and Seungmin? While some people get easily jealous, others recognize that sometimes fun is fun, no ulterior motives.

After enduring another five minutes of Hyunjin and Yeji’s bickering, you decide it’s time for a change of scenery.

“What do you want to drink?” 

“Mojito, extra lime. Make sure he knows about the Rolls Royce.”

“And don’t forget to tell him the wedding date. Jack Rose for me.”

The crowd hasn’t thinned out in the short time it took for you to arrive, so you patiently wait by studying Chan’s bartending skills. How long has he done this for? From handling a large bottle of vodka to garnishing drinks with mint leaves, all of his motions are deft. During the fifth cocktail, he notices your presence out of the corner of his eye and begins adding flairs to his process—a little twirl of the stick, an extra tall pour. When it’s finally your turn, he leans against the counter and meets you halfway. His eyes flicker with golden light.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he says before you can get out a word. “Miss Moonshine, can I be the next to dance the Charleston with you? I promise I’m a better dancer than the last guy.”

Astonished, you blurt out, “You saw it!”

“Of course I did.” Almost sheepishly, he adds, “You’re all I see.”

Your skin prickles as if you’re standing outside in the cold, but your cheeks are aflame. “The speakeasy doesn’t need you?”

“Minho’s got it handled. Come on now.”

You highly doubt Minho can man the bar by himself, but you nonetheless take Chan’s hand and lead him to the center of the building. You hear Yeji’s giggles and Hyunjin’s smug remarks as you pass by, but your annoyance is soon drowned out by the merriment of the other patrons. Soles slap against the floor in quick succession, and you nearly lose an eye to a flying string of pearls. 

Chan places his other hand on your arm. “You’re pretty good, but do you think you can keep up with me?”

His teasing rouses you further, so you put more energy into your steps. A little more bounce and a little more snap, just as he did when he was mixing drinks. The people surrounding you slowly inch away when you grow more excited, and you gladly use all of the space around. 

“Show-off,” Chan laughs when you momentarily let go of his hands to perform a series of kicks. 

You finish with a flourish and playfully bow when he starts clapping.  “It’s what I do best. How long do I have you for?”

“Not that long,” he admits, taking your hands again, “but come back tomorrow? I’m off then, so you’ll have me all to yourself.”

He winks, leaving you in a stupor as he guides you back to Yeji and Hyunjin. This is not how it’s supposed to be; you’re the one who does the flustering around here. You’re certain you have a silly smile on your face because as soon as he leaves, Yeji pounces for answers.

“What happened?” she questions. “Did he kiss you?”

“More like she kissed him,” Hyunjin drawls as he snaps his fingers in front of your eyes. “Have you died or what?”

You push his hand away, glaring at him when he pretends to have been injured. “No one kissed anyone. Just a dance. Geez, it’s like you two are trying to get me in trouble. Let’s go before someone actually hears you.”

Hyunjin grabs your cape for you, not in a gesture of kindness, but so he can toss it at you and laugh as you struggle to catch it. “You could’ve at least gotten us our drinks before you decided he wasn’t worth it. Where are we heading now? Bellamy’s?”

“I’d rather go home,” you answer.

Yeji links one arm through yours and the other through her brother’s, effectively creating a human fence that others have to walk around. “So you can sleep and dream of him?”

“One day,” you declare, “you’ll get a crush, and I will never let you breathe again without mentioning their name. Hyunjin will join in, and you’ll get a taste of your own medicine.”

As expected, the drive home is riddled with poor jokes and pointless retellings of the night. It is the same when you head back to 44th House the following night. You’d rather Yeji and Hyunjin not be in the establishment at all, but reassurance is always welcome, even if it does come with a side dish of pestering.

Minho is the gatekeeper this time, and he regards you with some contempt for last night’s endeavor. Your half-hearted apology is responded with a grunt and a reluctant opening of the door. 

You inhale the scent of the antique store, run a finger across the back of a velvet chair for luck. Your whole body hums with energy as you descend, and the trumpet horns on the other side of the walls only increase the tension. Why are you nervous? You have no reason to be.

At the bottom of the steps, you say with gravity, “Both of you, stay away from me tonight.” 

Then you run into the crowd before they can follow. As the uproar rings in your ears, you scan the interior as you cut across the room, wincing when the overzealous tuba player blasts a note in your direction. Someone spills part of their drink onto the tops of your heels, and though you feel the liquid seeping between your toes, your main concern is finding Chan. You pause whenever you see a man in a black vest. Would he wear a similar outfit to his uniform on his night off? Likely, no, but you have no other basis for his attire.

“You’re here! Finally.”

You turn around to see Chan that has found you first. His grin shines like a crescent moon against his dark pinstriped suit, but there is nothing sinister about his expression.

“How do you do it?” you ask, slipping your arm through his. His face colors with a faint shade of pink. “You always seem to know where I am.”

“To be honest, I’ve been watching the door all night. Should we get something to drink first?”

As it turns out, you are correct to tell your siblings to stay far away from you because after sharing some potent moonshine, you kiss Chan by the bar. Everyone in the vicinity witnesses it, so you’re bound to end up in the papers tomorrow, but you don’t care. It’s Yeji and Hyunjin’s fault for putting the thought into your head. Most importantly though, this is the happiest you’ve been.

Prohibition. What a lovely era.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #chan #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #stray kids au #skz au #1920s au #prohibition era au #prohibition au #20231002

[vinnoa-articles]

The Clean Confession

[Image by Eiichiro Oda]

Rating: Anyone

Word count: 2,796

Type: Fluff

Characters: reader (anyone), Traflagar D Law, the Heart Pirates

Trigger warnings/content: Some tension, implied nudity, sleep-deprivation

Note for new One Piece readers/watchers: Traflagar Law always calls someone by their name and adds a "Ya" after. His crew is primarily made up of humans, except Bepo whom is a white polar bear that can talk. Law also has the ability to manipulate space. He will say "Room" to make the space, then "Shambles" to switch the person or thing out with som

"Y/N-ya", seeing the snapping of his fingers, the T and H blurring wasn't what Y/N should be seeing; rather, their vision blurred. "Oi oi, you can't be picking up my habits now."

The Polar Tang was quiet, some sounds of sea creatures swimming by as if they were uneasy with the presence of the Captain of the Heart pirates. A splitting migraine was spawning at the temples of Y/N's skull. There wasn't much left to assist the captain with at this point, however, with how little he had slept too, it was all becoming just an endless cycle of working in pure darkness. The submarine hadn't gone up for air, or at least they hadn't seen the surface as they were constantly stuck in the library. Sometimes when they were out of the room, they would glance at the air bubbles rising and dancing around the windows of the sub. "You aren't making any progress, and you need rest."

"Says you", they retorted quickly, nearly cotton-mouthed with how little they were drinking water. The captain was dumb, well, sometimes. Metal warping under the weight of water, as if signaling that the sounds were much louder in both mate’s ears. Seas calling out for them, beckoning for more adventure. A heavy groan slipped past the captain’s lips as he tilted his cap forward, hiding the prominent bags under his eyes. “I only learned from the best, and adapted from the cap!”

“Don’t act so childish,” Law pointed at Y/N, trying to guide authority and their glance to their face. “I am telling you to go to bed Y/N-ya.” Frustrated was the main emotion, mixed with fatigue.

“Doctor’s orders?” Another unblockable groan. His hair was beyond greasy, as if neglecting his own health even. His very toned body looked almost frail in the candlelit library. Yellow sun bleached pages, emanating the dark scribbles in the notebooks. Being told what to do is what made Law angry, but both figures were living off the fumes of smoke, stale coffee and body odor. His eyes locked on the person next to him, his eyes drooping almost the floor was calling for him to just lie down and nap. “As a doctor myself, you need rest too. Along with a bath.” Y/N’s eyes looked like the color was drained of life, yet they sparkled for more information. “Unless you have better orders.” The captain tried to speak, but what came out was a tonguetied garble of letters. Realizing that nothing was coherent even in his ears, his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink on his tanned skin. “That settles it,” clapping the open book between their hands, they weakly smile. “The bath should be ready anyway, let’s head there right now.” Y/N got up and stretched their arms above their head, cracking and moaning softly at the release of air in their joints.

“Are you implying we bathe together at the same time?” As if his scruff was doing all the talking. It was kind of unsettling how often Law stayed up to just study, make plans and take care of his crew. Even Y/N saw that as clear as day. Y/N sighed then grabbed the shoulders of the captain. Trying to lift him up out of his chair, as for some reason, his body obeyed under his crewmate’s touch.

“You bathe with Bepo all the time.”

“I don’t with the others,” quickly snapping his jaw to make sure there weren't any other ideas. He treasured Bepo a lot, to the point he has gone to concerts with him, even bent rules to make his favorite bear happy.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if someone washed your back and just relaxed for once? I can just help you out for once,” Law could feel the smile that Y/N was trying to muster up to ease the doctor’s mind. It was true, no one has ever really been in such a vulnerable and small space with Law, other than Bepo that is.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he finally admitted. Setting his book down quietly, they both slowly trudged to the bathing area to meet the fresh scent of bath water, bamboo soap and some steam. Making it the all familiar blue door, Y/N pushed all their weight against the door as their wrist had all of its power drained. A few seconds after they opened the door, Law dragged his feet, almost closing the door but not caring to have the door meet the frame. A very slow lift of his tight hugging tee, gripped onto his lean frame. He turned around only to be met with Y/N was slowly peeling off their bootcut jeans, gasping as they bent back up, meeting the eyes of the captain. They stared at each other, seeing if one would move before they moved themselves. It was awkward, seeing half their bodies exposed in such an intimate space, but then again, the fatigue was slowly getting to them.

“I-...um,” Y/N softly spoke. “You diagnosing me or somethin’ doctor?” Eyes frantic, he shook his head and turned around. He isn’t used to seeing something not furry within the same space as him. His companion also took in the sight of his small frame. Seeing if his body changed size, or if they were getting used to his body not half-exposed.

“Shut up. I just zoned all was all,” voice wavering as his eyes were trying to comprehend what his body was trying to take in.

“Or is it, you are socially awkward with people in general.”

“No! I mean…I-” his words trailed off as he snaked out of his pants and underwear in one swift swoop, as Y/N chuckled and took off their top and placed it on top of their disheveled clothes on the counter. “You won’t speak of this with anyone you understand?” Y/N laughed as they grabbed a clean towel and put it on top of their arm, waiting for the captain to make a move towards the bathroom. “I mean it Y/N-ya!”

“Alright alright,” giving up finally. His clothes folded nicely next to Y/N’s, grabbing his own black towel as well. “You going to block the door or…” 

“Oh, right right,” Y/N said, opening the door. The hot steam hitting their face immediately, the bright light nearly blinding the two figures stepping into the shower section. Small stools placed in front of the mirrors so that no one would miss a spot to scrub. Y/N hovered at one of the stools, and glanced at their captain. As if giving permission to sit down, and scrub first.

“I’ll scrub you first,” Law offered. Propping themselves behind Y/N, he soaked a small washcloth that was hanging nearby and pumped body wash, rinsing it quickly with water and then rubbing the towel against itself to create small bubbles. He grasped Y/N’s shoulder, making sure that they wouldn’t move as he gently worked on scrubbing the dead skin, sweat, dust, scent of dust off Y/N’s spine. Small moans and groans spilled from Y/N’s lips. The bliss of finally feeling the grime come off their skin was nice, especially since they are finally relaxing for once. Stress and fatigue slowly went down the drain, as Law scrubbed every curve of Y/N’s body. Until they felt a long drag from the towel move from the top right shoulder blade down near their lower spine.

“Captain, let me scrub you.” Law was definitely starting to fall asleep, his rough exterior was different in how he washed Y/N’s body and lightly took care of them. Afterall, it was his job to make sure his patients are well taken care of, and his crew was no different.

“No no, I am not done-”

“Captain, you have been up longer than I have. Let me take care of you doctor,” Y/N slowly getting up from their stool and slowly getting up, not trying to slip on the suds and getting behind Law.

“Oi, oi, oi. Don’t stand behind me like that-” His eyes were frantic as it was his blind spot, knowing that anyone could attack from behind, he is always careful, but extra careful in this current state. Y/N pushed him down to sit down on the stool, to make sure he would comply.

“I insist,” which didn’t make him feel any better. Law could use his abilities while he is still out of the water to his fullest capacity. It wouldn’t hurt to relax for once. His assistant made work scrubbing his body, quickly, a little sloppily, but thoroughly. Tilting his head back as Y/N slowly poured a small basin of water through the oily locks. The doctor’s body relaxed into the stool, leaning against Y/N as if he was falling asleep right there. His long lashes flutter shut, as his breathing became deep and even, his body easing against Y/N’s.

“Yes,” he breathed out. It felt nice for once- “Hey watch where you are touching!” Sitting upright at the towel dragged on his abs. His assistant backed up, looking ashamed and nearly bowing at a ninety-degree.

“I…Sorry boss. I asked if you wanted me to scrub your chest, and you said yes, so…” they looked so embarrassed. Law could tell they meant well, shaking his hair as the droplets splashed against the mirror. They sat down next to law, rinsing off the remaining tiredness and soap of their body, law looked them up and down and rinsed off the soap off his own. When did his assistant look so good? It would be a lie if he said he wasn’t attracted to Y/N’s wit, personality and a smidge of their looks. He never paid it any mind because they were crewmates, doctor and assistant, and just straight up friends. The air felt thick in the library earlier, but both figured it was just the air that hadn’t been let out from the room for a while. He saw their bare legs, the color of their eyes, the way their mouth parted when they stared back in the changing area.

“You know Y/N-ya, I wonder how we even became this way,” Law asked as he stood up to finally dip his feet into the hot waters, water wrapping around his tired body like a blanket. His groan rumbled in his chest, echoing off the humid air.

“I think about this as well,” they hummed out as their legs submerged under the warmth. They sat across each other, eyes closed, basking in such a relaxing fresh atmosphere. It’s been days since they left that room, not only that, a mental break as well. “If I hadn’t treated you, maybe we would have never met.” There was the snarkiness that sometimes put him back into reality. There was a reason why he was attracted to Y/N’s being. He wanted to explore that aspect of them, knowing what was so different about them than his crewmates whom he threatened to put under the scalpel if they didn’t behave.

“Y/N…so….” his lashes attracted water, as the droplets fell into the bath. Their bodies were so far apart, yet their voices reached each other’s ears as if they were in front of each other’s faces. “Why come along?” That was a question that his crewmates asked, and they got the simple answer of “A secret”. This time it felt different.

“Hmm,” they pondered. “To learn about new walks of life and medicine,” explaining much deeper than earlier. Law’s eyes opened, staring at the ceiling. “Not only that, maybe knowing someone to the point they would be my standard of how to diagnose people.” So that is why. They were not interested in love, they were not interested in fighting, they genuinely wanted to help people. “That’s why I know you are 191cm, maybe 187cm when you slouch, weight roughly 85kg, blood type F, waist size-”

“Alright alright, enough. You know me so well,” he grumbled. “It's as if you are dating me, geez,” Y/N could sense he was rolling his eyes out of embarrassment.

“What? Doesn’t your crew know more about your personal moments?” Y/N teased. It’s been awhile since they talked normally like this, instead of just medical tactics. A soft splash of water, he shifted his weight so he was leaning against the side of the bath.

“To be honest, yes they do know of those moments, but no one knows me that personally,” which perked up the ears of Y/N. “Which reminds me, with how long you have been here, how long are you intending on staying?”

“Erm, as long as you are willing to let me stay captain,” they spoke out bashfully. Law nearly slipped and dunked his head under. That took him by surprise for sure. “I quite like your presence,” confessing that there may be more beneath the teasing and witty surface. “Heck, if you would let me…”

“Would you stay by my side?” They both sputtered out.

“Huh?”

“Oi oi, no way-” Law shook, splashing a wave of water at Y/N, clawing his way out of the bath. “We didn’t just confess something did we?” Trying to find his path out of the bath as fast as he could.

“I guess we did doc-...I mean Law,” they said, almost teasing and cooing at him. “It will be lovely seeing you in the morning at the table for once.” A short growl came out, as his wet footsteps printed the wooden floorboards of the bathing area.

“N…no you won’t!” Chuckling as his towel slipped off his thin waist as he slammed the bath doors shut. He was definitely awake now. He ran to his private quarters, his clothes in hand, trying to keep his wet towel from coming off completely. Drops of water getting all over his fresh sheets that Penguin probably put on for him, despite Law always asking him not to go into his private room without permission. Grabbing a pair of folded boxers from on top of his dresser, he hastily put them on and flopped on his bed. The cold air raking his body, sending shivers down his spine. “What am I going to do with you?” Feeling his eyes close, sighing. “I’ll figure it out in the morning…”

A loud knocking came from the front door, and Law’s droopy eyes opened up. He felt, for once, not tense, not agitated, but free. Running his fingers through his coarse locks, he got up and opened the door. “What?” Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, Ikkaku, and Uni fall into his room with tears running down their faces.

“Boss!” They exclaimed, clearly full of worry from his lack of leaving the library. Law’s jaw dropped to the floor, jumping back so he wouldn’t fall beneath their weight. “You finally are back!” Jumping out to hug him, but with the flick of his wrist, his palm from a downward position, to up.

“Room…” he muttered softly, looking at his favorite bear, regretting that he was going to do this to them. “I’ll see y’all at brunch,” he shook his head finally. “Shambles.” They were gone, but all five were replaced with towels. Transporting them to the changing room that he had just been just less than a day ago. Grumbling about how he can’t get peace anywhere, he starts putting on his tank and skinny jeans. Thinking about what happened the night before as what he heard was just something that maybe he heard through his sleep-deprived brain. He didn’t want to think about his feelings if he confessed it in the bathroom. Law grabbed his sword and made his way with a spring in his step to the dining hall. Where he met a bunch of happy faces eager to eat with him.

“B-boss!” Bepo piped up again.

“Yeah yeah, let’s eat.” A smile creeping onto his face as Penguin gave him a cup of his favorite coffee.

“Kind of nice to eat with all of us, isn’t it Law”, spewing out some coffee at Penguin’s face, he looked at the direction that teasing voice was from. “Thanks for that personal talk Law. I won’t forget it,” Y/N smirked while drinking their glass of water.

“What did you talk about?!” Bepo demanded.

“Tell us!” Penguin grabbing Law by the collar. Law’s smile turned into a slight frown, realizing that what happened last night was not a fever dream. He is going to have to deal with the confession after his cup of coffee and calming his jealous crewmates, before confirming what status his assistant would be to him.

#one piece #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfics #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfictions #one piece fluff #trafalgar one piece #traflagar law #law #trafalgar x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalagar fluff

[thenightfolknetwork]

I'm not sure where else to go with this...

So, for background, I'm a werewolf living down, down where sands blow across the plains. I work as hired muscle for my town, even though I'm not full-grown yet... Regardless.

There is a huge pack of werecoyotes living near my town, an entire family and their elderly matriarch. I'm scared of them, to put it frankly. I was not born a lycanthrope, but turned through violent means, and they rallied to kill my attacker for the sake of the town (which I am very grateful for). My landlord/friend says I should get to know them so I can have people who will understand me, but the problem is that they have such a strong bond with one another and just seem so uninterested in me, even though I know they're at least a little curious. I know that in the animal world, wolves attack coyotes frequently for food, and I am far larger than any of them when turned, but I would never do something of the sort- while we're not human, we're still people.

Do you think my anxieties are understandable? Should I put myself out there anyways and try to speak to them? I feel like I owe them that. Thank you very much.

These people… murdered somebody? They murdered a member of the community for the sake of vigilante justice? And you have chosen to write in to me to tell me about your anxieties about whether they will accept you or not?

Reader, I am inferring from your reference to sand-blown plains and coyotes that you are not, in fact, based in the UK – unless the wilds of Shropshire are much changed since last I visited. Usually I am very glad to hear from our readers and listeners from other countries, as there is rarely enough of a cultural difference between us as to make me unable to advise.

But frankly, I have no idea how to respond to this question. These people consider themselves above the law, and you not only have no issue with this, you actually approve!

I appreciate that violent turning can be a profoundly traumatic experience, but if you truly believe in retributive, extrajudicial violence as a way to deal with your problems then I am afraid we are coming at the world from such radically different perspectives that we can have very little to say to each other. Then again, perhaps that difference in worldview was already obvious in your willingness to speak of landlords as "friends".

In short: no, I do not think you should speak with them. I do not think you “owe” them. I think these people are dangerous and frightening, and that there is no power in this world or any other that could induce me to trust them. Frankly, if you disagree, I think you urgently need to reevaluate your attitude towards violence.

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies #out of character i will say that the ethics of the MA universe are endlessly funny to me #this response feels completely in character for example #but also the presenter very much believes that eating people is ok #thank you op for sending this it was a lot of fun!!

[songsformonkeys]

Saying I love you with flowers (Agent Whiskey x reader)

Month: May

Word count: ~2200

Warnings: None

Notes: Agent Whiskey brings you flowers.

This prompt is horribly late!!! The June prompt will be posted tomorrow.

The rest of the Year of Creation stories

@yearofcreation2023

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It starts with an off-hand remark.

”Ain't that a shame.”

You hear Jack's mumble through your earpiece and your eyes dart up to the computer monitor on your left to watch the feed from the security camera in the flower shop. Or what remains of it, at least.

Jack is standing next to the cash register, overlooking what can only be described as floral carnage. The explosion of multicolored petals from the shootout has only just settled and from the point of view of the camera, the dark brim of his hat makes him look like a particularly depressing daisy, in the midst of it all.

He picks up a tipped-over vase of sunflowers, half of them decapitated.

”Makes you wonder how many things will go unsaid until this shop is up and running again, don't it?” he continues, touching the stem of one of the floral victims. The gentleness of the touch is evident even on screen, and it's in stark contrast to how you'd witnessed him take out three men with guns mere minutes ago.

”What do you mean?” you ask, realizing he might actually be talking to you rather than just musing to himself. He does that a lot. Sometimes it's like he just wants to fill the silence, not really requiring your active participation in the conversations, besides the occasional hum here and there. Which is just as good, because you are usually working, trying to get him safely out of whatever hellhole he'd found himself in.

Speaking of...

There's a bit of static from the program connected to the police radio followed by a command to send units your way. Of course, in a fancy neighborhood like this, the cops would be quick to respond. Your eyes scan the map on the second monitor, watching the little police car dots change direction, inching towards the picturesque flower shop that just happened to have had the misfortune of housing a terrorist in the apartment above, and you try and estimate how long you have before the place is swarmed with blue.

”Flowers...” Jack elaborates - seemingly unaware of the enclosing law enforcement – and it reminds you that you had asked him a question. ”...are an excellent vehicle for expressing emotions, whether that be love, sorrow, regret, excitement. You deliver it with a bouquet of flowers and you get that extra oomph, wouldn't you say?”

The words make you smile softly.

”I'll take your word for it. I've never gotten flowers.” You watch the dots on the map get closer. ”You'll have company in 5 so I recommend heading out. I've-”

”You've never gotten flowers?” Jack interrupts. He sounds equal parts surprised and offended on your behalf.

”Unless you count the time in kindergarten when Ricky H threw a dandelion, complete with roots and dirt and all, in my eye, then no,” you chuckle.

Your fingers fly over the keyboard, deploying a couple of previously set up traffic obstructions since your agent seemed to be in no rush to get away from the crime scene.

”And not to insinuate that you're focusing on the wrong thing...” You pause. ”Actually no, that is exactly what I'm doing. There are three dead bodies in the room with you and the police are on their way. Don't make me work overtime getting you out of jail, Whiskey, please! I need to get home to my 90-day fiancé marathon.”

”Speaking of activities that should be considered a crime,” Jack mumbles and shakes his head, but there's no real heat behind the words. The rest of your sentence must have registered too though because he reaches up to adjust his hat before sprinting up the stairs to fetch the abandoned laptops and flash drives. You have no visual of him up there, but he must have found a mirror because when he strolls back out on the street a couple of minutes later and you watch him from a nearby street camera, he looks the very definition of put-together and no one who spared him a glance would suspect this southern gentleman to be carrying priceless amounts of national secrets in the brown messenger bag slung casually over his shoulder. He tips his hat at a woman with a stroller as he moves out of the way to let her pass on the narrow sidewalk.

”Gorgeous day for a walk, ain't it?” he tells her, and you don't need to see the smile on the woman's face to know it's there. You've been the subject of Jack's charm enough times to know.

”Stop flirting with the pedestrians and get to the car, please,” you tell him as the first patrol car rounds the corner up ahead.

You hear Jack chuckle.

”Jealousy is a good luck on you, honey.”

”You can't even see me, Casanova.”

”Don't need to. All looks are good looks on you.”

”Just get to the car,” you tell him, cheeks warm and smile evident in your voice. Jack laughs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite years of working together and being on the receiving end of Jack's flirty banter, you never quite get used to how his words immediately lodge themselves in that little part of your heart that isn't all that used to getting this kind of praise and attention. It's a little embarrassing really, but everyone is allowed to have a harmless workplace crush, right?

At least, whatever feelings you harbor for Jack are nowhere near as messy as the displays of emotions and the relationship drama that's playing out on your TV screen later that evening.

You're on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through the news app on your phone, while also keeping half an eye on the ongoing TV arguments, and you have every intention to stay on that couch until you inevitably fall asleep, probably still with your reading glasses on.

Those plans are foiled, however, by a knock on the door a few minutes later. You eye the offending rectangle as if it's doing anything but it's job of providing a separation between the outside world and your evening ritual of trash TV.

You briefly entertain the thought of ignoring the knock. If it's work-related it can wait until morning. But then there's a second knock, a little louder and more insistent, and you realize that the person on the other side is probably hearing the TV through the door, and therefore knows you're home.

Reluctantly, you put the phone down and get up from the couch, shuffling over to the door while trying to wiggle your feet back into your fuzzy slippers as you walk.

When the door swings open, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you're greeted by a big bouquet of sunflowers, haloed by the brim of a cowboy hat perched atop the head hiding behind the flowers.

”Wh-what's this?” you ask with a surprised half-laugh.

”It's me upstaging that Ricky H by a landslide,” Jack says, flashing you a grin as he lowers and holds out the flowers for you to take, which you do, a little too stunned to find the teasing retort you usually would.

”At least I hope I am...” Jack continues, in response to your silence. That serves to break you out of it.

”Yes! Sorry, yes, of course! These are beautiful, Jack! Thank you!”

Jack smiles back at you full force again, and you're grateful his eyes are locked with yours so he doesn't notice the definite tremble of your knees that the smile inspires.

”Ehum... do you want to come inside?” you ask him when you realize you're just staring like a creep.

”Desperately so! But unfortunately, I'm not yet off the clock so I need to head back to the HQ. But I'll see you tomorrow.” he tells you, to which you nod.

There are sounds of people screaming and arguing coming from the TV inside and Jack gives you a look.

”Don't let 90 times fiancés completely rot your brain until then,” he smirks. You're about to correct him on the name when he suddenly leans in and presses a featherlight kiss to your cheek. It makes you let out an embarrassing ”Oh”.

”Goodnight sweetheart.

You regain your composure enough to mumble a quick ”Night Jack” before he leaves you standing on the doorstep, holding the bouquet cradled in your arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sunflowers are the first flowers you receive, but you quickly realize that they will be far from your last.

It's tulips next, followed by a big bunch of Camellias. Every time Jack comes back from a mission he brings you flowers. Sometimes it's whole bouquets and sometimes it's a single flower. All equally beautiful.

You've never considered yourself a flower girl but you have to admit that they do bring lovely splashes of color both to your apartment and your office and you do enjoy their presence – and the smile it brings to Jack's face every time he watches you accept them.

Caring for the flowers to make them last, however, turns out to be more of a science than you had anticipated. You find yourself googling each new addition, wanting to know not only what they are but also how to best take care of them. For example, different flowers like different water temperatures. Who knew that? Not you, until the internet informed you of it, that's for sure!

So you read up on the flowers and as you do something undefined starts taking form at the back of your mind.

It's chrysanthemums, roses, hydrangeas, and jasmine flowers. And with every single one of them, the same phrase seems to pop up, often mentioned in passing but always there.

Symbolizes love.

Symbolizes love symbolizes love symbolizes love.

Despite telling yourself not to read into it, the words etch themselves into your brain and resurface with every bouquet.

But Jack doesn't act any different than he normally does, so you force yourself to accept that it's just a coincidence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mess hall of the Statesmen headquarters is, in many aspects, not all that different from a school cafeteria, just more upscale and with a lot more people wearing suits and cowboy hats. Not quite as divided into social cliques either, even if you tend to gravitate towards the table Jack's sitting at. You just enjoy his company, that's all.

The chatter around the tables isn't all that different from when you were kids either. It's still mostly talk about assignments, relationships, or sports.

Agent Mezcal is regaling you all with a tale of the woes of finding the perfect anniversary gift.

”We've been married for 15 years. It's not that I don't know what she likes, I definitely do. It's just...everything I know she wants, I've already gotten her.”

”Can't go wrong with flowers and a trip,” his handler suggests, and Jack nods in agreement. ”Not roses though. Jane doesn't strike me as a rose kinda woman.”

”You've thought a lot about what flowers to get my wife, Ice?”

”Only when you're particularly annoying out on assignment. I think about Jane and all she has to put up with... About damn time she got some flowers!”

You chuckle along with the others as Mezcal shakes his head.

”Yeah yeah, laugh it up, you lot. But if I am gonna give my wife flowers to tell her I love her for putting up with me, Imma need some suggestions for what kind, if roses are a no-go.”

There's a beat of silence before you and Jack speak up at the exact same time.

”Gardenias,” you both suggest as one. And as soon as it registers that you weren't the only one naming that particular flower, your head whips around to look at Jack. He's looking back, the tiniest upward curve of a smile on his lips.

You hear the others laugh and continue making suggestions, but you're not actually listening, and you have no idea what flowers Mezcal eventually settles on. It's less important than the fact that both you and Jack said gardenias. That you both said gardenias when there's a big bouquet of them back home in your kitchen.

And you can't even say anything about it. Not here and not now.

Thankfully, when lunch is over, Jack decides to also head in the direction of your office.

It's dead silent between you at first. Then you both speak at the same time yet again.

”It's on purpose then?”

”You figured it out.”

Jack gives you a partially fond but disbelieving look.

”Of course, it's on purpose, sweetheart.”

”I wasn't sure. You flirt with anything that moves.” You feel the need to defend yourself.

”You see flowers on anyone else's desk?”

”...No”

”No,” Jack agrees.

He reaches out and takes your hand. It makes you want to giggle, but you suppress the urge and instead grip his hand a little tighter, just to assure yourself it's actually there. Jack smiles at you, and that is really unfair because your brain is already heading towards a disbelieving meltdown over what is currently happening.

”You want to come over tonight?” you blurt out before you lose your ability to form actual sentences.

Jack's smile widens even further.

”Abso-goddamn-lutely, sweetheart!”

#year of creation 2023 #year of saying I love you #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #kingsman the golden circle fanfiction

[luulapants]

“I don’t use cannabis. How do I write characters that do?”

This long-criminalized psychoactive drug is having a renaissance in the US these days, now legal for recreational use in 21 states. That means there are even more ways that people use cannabis. It’s still illegal in most of the world, and I will be writing primarily about use in the US, where my experience is.

What should I call it?

Ganja. The Devil’s Lettuce. Dank. Mary Jane. There are endless epithets for this drug, and most of them will make you sound absolutely ridiculous unless used as a joke. The use of the Spanish name, marijuana, is traced to efforts to use American xenophobia to demonize it. Cannabis is the technical English term you would hear in, say, a police report. Your average Joe on the street, though, will say either “weed” or “pot.”

Who’s using cannabis?

More people than you might think! Stereotypes once painted this as the drug of racial minorities, hippies, burnouts, and teenagers. These days, anyone you could imagine with a glass of wine at the end of the day could be going home to a cannabis gummy. People use cannabis to deal with chronic health issues like pain, insomnia, or anxiety. Some partake as a rare indulgence, like a cigar on a special occasion. The vast majority of people who use cannabis do so in moderation.

Habitual users are easier to spot - people who make pot a huge part of their lifestyle. They might talk about it incessantly. They might be stoned at inappropriate times or wake ‘n’ bake (getting stoned first thing in the morning and, presumably, staying stoned all day). Cannabis is not physically addictive, but for people self-medicating other issues, it can be psychologically addictive the same way as shopping or gambling. People can become dependent on it to help them fall asleep or regulate their moods, in absence of other coping mechanisms. Just as with alcohol, someone who frequently uses cannabis alone is at higher risk of dependence than someone who uses occasionally or only in social situations.

Where do they get it?

Depending local laws, a person might have access to a medical or recreational cannabis dispensary. Recreational dispensaries can serve anyone who is above the legal age. Medical dispensaries require a prescription. These are really easy to get, and the dispensary may even have someone on site that can diagnose you (with pain or anxiety usually) and write a scrip. In addition to many forms of cannabis, they may sell glassware, vapes, or other paraphernalia.

A dispensary is like any retail location with a couple of differences: Most merchandise will be locked in cases or behind the counter, due to the regulated nature of the substances they’re selling. They may have extra security measures, like a security guard or bulletproof dividers at the counter. This is because dispensaries are cash only and usually have large amounts of cash on location, because conflicts with federal law mean banks can’t work with them.

Not having legal access to a dispensary isn’t the only reason someone might skip it, though. Dispensaries, due to overhead, liability, and very high taxes, are super expensive. If your character can’t get to a dispensary or has strapped finances, they will probably turn to a street dealer.

The local dealer or weed man is never a normal person. If you are depicting a weed man in your story, please keep this in mind. They are weird in different ways, but they’re all weird. You find them through personal connections, and a friend usually has to vouch for you before you can meet them. You might go to their place or they might come to yours. They may have a public meet-up location (park next to me in the McDonald’s parking lot after midnight). If you’re nice and the dealer likes you, they may smoke you out, meaning you smoke a bowl together from their personal stash, free of charge. One stereotype is a dealer who doesn’t have any real friends and makes it difficult to leave the drug deal because he wants to hang out. You then have to tactfully (without offending/losing your dealer) engineer an escape.

Otherwise, you might buy from friends, reimburse them for a buy they made, or throw down some cash when someone shares their weed with you.

Are there different types?

Yes! There are lots of different strains and crossbreeds of cannabis, most with lofty or whimsical names (purple unicorn kush, hazy sunrise sativa). If you go to a dispensary, a sales person will give you extensive “high profiles” of how different strains make you feel: “This one won’t make you as paranoid.” “This one is a very mellow high.”

Honestly, (and I might get assassinated for saying this) most of it is bullshit. Different strains have different chemical compositions and will act differently, but each person’s individual physiology is going to have a much larger impact, so Mr. X and Ms. Y will react more differently to strain A than the difference between how Mr. X reacts to strains A or B. And the dude at the dispensary is entirely unqualified to tell you how a strain will impact you, personally. Your expectation of its effects and how much you consume are also major factors.

One scientifically proven difference is the impact of different THC and CBD content. THC is the psychoactive component and CBD is responsible for more physical effects. The two major variants: Indicas are high in CBD, more sedative, and better at pain reduction and appetite increase. Sativas are high in THC, more stimulating, uplifting, and can help with creativity.

Whether your character knows anything about different strains will more about them than what strains they choose: whether they pay top dollar for designer weed strains or if they’re just buying whatever the local weed man has. The weed man may talk a big game about the strain they’re selling, and some of it might even be true. But usually, their stuff is not top shelf and, aside from low-budget weed aficionados, most of their customers don’t care.

Edibles

Edibles are foods with THC and/or CBD. Edibles might suggest a character who’s more health conscious, not wanting to inhale smoke, or who is more secretive about their cannabis use - edibles won’t leave a smell behind. People who only started using after it was legalized might be comfortable with eating a gummy even if they still have negative criminal connotations with smoking.

THC and CBD are fat-soluble, so edibles are usually made by infusing butter (for baked goods) or oil (for other products) with cannabis. If your character is into cooking, they might make their own weed butter, keep it in the fridge, and bake brownies or cookies with it. Usually, you can’t really taste the difference. If they’re looking for something portable or easy to hide, gummies or other candies are the way to go.

Dosage is important with edibles because it takes longer for your body to process them, so the onset of the high is significantly delayed. Whoever made the edible should tell you how many milligrams are in each item. How much you should eat depends on your body weight, tolerance, and how stoned you want to get. You can’t overdose, but you can have a really, really bad time if you get too high. The classic joke is that someone will be warned not to eat too much, have half an edible, say, “These edibles ain’t shit,” eat the rest, and then when it finally does kick in, they’re on-the-moon high.

Smoking

Let’s clear one thing up: smoking anything is bad for your lungs. That said, people do be smoking weed! Unlike edibles, smoking has near-immediate effects. The whole high doesn’t hit you at once, but someone with a low tolerance will feel something by the time they exhale that first puff. Unlike cigarettes, when a person smokes weed (takes a hit), they are supposed to inhale deeply and hold the smoke in their lungs for as long as they can before exhaling.

Before your character smokes out of anything, the first step is to grind up the weed. The part of the plant which is smoked are the buds: dense, greenish clumps which are ideally sticky to the touch. (Old, shitty weed will be dry and brownish.) These are placed in a grinder, a metal contraption which is twisted to move metal teeth inside and break the buds into small pieces. Ground-up weed will dry up faster, so it’s best not to grind until you’re ready to smoke.

Joints are made by taking a small piece of rolling paper, sprinkling a line of weed into them, then rolling it up. The edge is licked to seal it and both ends twisted closed. They’re smoked like a cigarette. If you add tobacco, it’s called a spliff. Most adults will add in a filter or roach on the mouth-end so the smoke is less harsh, and leaving it out speaks to being un-fussy. Like a burrito, you ideally want a nice, fat joint, but hubris can lead you to an overfilled, falling-apart mess. Joint rolling is a skill developed with practice, so your character’s ability to do so successfully or unsuccessfully will speak to their experience. Joints are cheap and portable, so good for tight budgets or someone on the move.

Blunts are similar to joints but made with tobacco paper - the brown paper that cigars are wrapped in. You can buy tobacco paper on its own, but more commonly, they’re made by buying cheap, sometimes flavored, cigars (like swisher sweets), cutting them open, dumping out the tobacco, and stuffing them full of weed. They’re bigger, so there’s a lot more weed in them, and they’re also wider than a joint, so each hit delivers more cannabis. Blunts are associated with urban Black culture.

Glassware includes pipes, bongs, chillums, bubblers, and other smoking vessels made of glass. These can be simple or beautifully decorative. A simple pipe might cost $10-15. A huge, artistic bong could cost upwards of a thousand. Glass is the most popular material for smoking vessels. All of these consist of a bowl where the weed is packed (”pack a bowl”) connected to an end where your mouth goes. The smoker places their mouth on the end, then holds a lighter flame over the weed in the bowl. They inhale, which draws the flame down into the bowl and causes the weed to smolder (not catch fire). The weed may continue to smolder enough for the next hit or the lighter may need to be used again. When the bowl is all burned, it’s cashed.

A pipe has a simple tube from the bowl and a small hole for the mouth, plus a carb hole on the side of the bowl, which must be covered while inhaling. The carb allows air into the bowl when not smoking, so the weed doesn’t burn too quickly between hits. The longer the stem, the less harsh the hit will be, because the smoke has time to cool off. Pipes are less harsh than joints and blunts but still pretty rough. A pipe can be made of many different materials. DIY pipes carved out of apples are a classic “no other options” stand-in. A chillum is a type of pipe that is straight, with the bowl facing outwards instead of upwards with no carb. A pipe with a very small bowl is called a one-hitter, since you can only fit one hit in it. A character might choose a pipe for portability, ease of hiding, or price.

A bubbler is a water pipe that uses water to cool and condense the smoke. The hole leading from the bowl descends into a small, enclosed compartment of water. The smoke goes into the water, then rises up a second tube to the small hole for the mouth. Like a dry pipe, it has a carb next to the bowl. They’re about two to three times the size of a dry pipe, not as portable, and more expensive. They are much less harsh than a pipe, though, and a good compromise between a pipe and a bong.

A bong is a long tube with a large water vessel at the bottom, usually like an Erlenmeyer flask with a really long neck The top has an opening which fits around the smoker’s mouth. The bowl is not connected but is shaped like a funnel with a stem that fits into a long tube that descends into the water vessel. Instead of a hit, smoking from a bong is called a rip. The smoke goes into the water, where it’s cooled and condensed, then continues to cool as it moves up the long neck to the smoker’s mouth. The bong will fill with smoke as long as there is suction between your mouth and the smoldering bowl. To end the suction, the stem is removed so clean air can replace the smoke as you inhale it. In order to not waste smoke, you should know how much you can inhale compared to the volume of the bong. Bongs can be filled with ice to cool the smoke further or have multiple chambers and twisty necks. They are much easier on the lungs than pipes or bubblers. They are also large, cumbersome, easy to break, hard to hide, and can be expensive. A character that owns a bong is a dedicated weed smoker with their own space where they don’t need to hide it, and the quality or lavishness of the bong will say a lot. Broke characters could improvise a bong by cutting a hole in a plastic bottle and inserting a tin foil funnel. That is janky as hell.

Finally, vaping cannabis took off in popularity at the same time as vaping tobacco. Cannabis oil cartridges are installed into a small vape pen, which can then be smoked somewhat discretely (less smelly than smoke, but it still smells!) with supposedly less damage to the lungs.

Effects

Different people react differently, much of which is based on their physiology and their mental state. Anxious people may become more anxious. Depressed people may become more lethargic. Affectionate people might get cuddly. Here’s some key elements:

Stoned/Faded: Reaction times slow. Memory becomes worse. Time perception is altered. You might repeat the same conversation over and over. The body feels heavy. Everything seems funny. You might become hyperfocused on something very specific or become intensely immersed in a story or TV show. Imagination and creative thinking improve. You may feel sleepy or serene.

Paranoia: Paradoxically, cannabis can create anxious paranoia, usually related to worrying that everyone can tell you’re high. The world looks very different to you, so it’s hard to imagine that you don’t look different to it. Slow reaction times mean that you might not notice someone moving until they already have, which can be startling and make you jump.

The Munchies: Cannabis is useful for people with appetite or nausea issues because it does cause cravings and the urge to eat. It doesn’t cause hunger, just intense craving. The intense focus of being stoned lets you focus on flavors more, which means food usually tastes better.

Baked: This term is synonymous with ‘stoned’ but it also implies some unpleasant side effects, like dry or bloodshot eyes, smoke-rough throats and voices, and an oppressive laziness that makes it hard to do things.

Second Stoning: Happens to some people, not all. Because THC bonds with fats, if you consume fats while you’re stoned, it will become bonded with those fats as they’re stored in your body. Your body fat works on a first-in-last-out system, so if you burn fat the day after toking up, the THC will be released into your system, causing you to get high again.

Is there anything I missed? Let me know!

#cw drugs #writing reference #cannabis #writing advice #how to write

[netherworldpost]

Atty! My sister-in-law and I were talking over the weekend and the topic of The Logistics of Vampires came up. Specifically: what happens to their own blood once they are turned; does it just congeal or do they absorb it; how do they keep moving around without a heartbeat sending oxygen to their muscles? This seems like something you might have considered. What are your thoughts, if I may ask?

When it comes to vampires (or undead in general), when making lore, I look into "what animates them."

There is a trend with zombies in the last pile of years to make it a biological agent, a virus (etc). While this hasn't hit vampires (yet?) en masse, that is one direction.

In that case, I would suggest that blood is simply food. They have shifted mentally and/or physically to need it as a food.

Their own blood remains in their body, a normal component, and is regenerated via consumption of food similar to humans.

I readily admit "biological-based monstrous" is the opposite of my direction, but I wanted to provide a basis should you wish to go in that direction.

If we look at something I delve into more with my work -- mystical, magical, divine, infernal -- then the vampire is either "naturally created" (they have never not been a vampire -- their existence began vampiric) or "turned into a vampire."

There can be important distinctions here -- if you want there to be -- so you are not limited to one option below. You could have multiple.

VAMPIRIC OPTIONS I HAVE EXPLORED IN WORK

VAMPIRE HYDROLICS Their blood remains liquid in their system but decays over time. They require new blood to power their bodies, growing weaker and stiffer over time, until they are able to re-fill.

Regular activity is needed lest they get sluggish. Physical, especially piercing, wounds decay their ability to move at an accelerated pace.

VAMPIRE SOLIDIFY Upon undeath, their bodies begin to internally crystalize. New blood is needed to keep them oiled up... sorry to be indelicate, but keeps their insides... slippery.

The difference between the above two is fluidity in movement.

Hydraulics: human to superhuman speed and flexibility. Solidify: classic mummy/zombie shambling; movement is possible but it's slow and jerky.

VAMPIRE GOO Upon undeath, their insides (all of it) liquifies and reforms. Similar to hydraulics, but given their entire internal structure is now goo, they gain incredible flexibility and speed.

I return to "is this particular monster a vampire at creation, or were they turned" because it offers an opportunity for one side to have an advantage over the other.

I couldn't decide on an image, so you get two.

Moving on:

It's popular (incredibly so) that 'born as vampire' is superior, but that isn't a hard-and-fast rule. There are no hard-and-fast rules -- there are general audience expectations, but these can be subverted if desired.

As a quick riff: Natural vampires may be hydraulic, but turned vampires may be goo-based. Given the shock to their system, a turned vampire may be goop inside and thus have a locomotive advantage.

Ultimately "what happens to the stuff inside" depends on what the animating force of the creature is.

Because they are no longer living, the heart and blood do not serve the biological purpose of oxygenation, but their form still moves and they are (kinda) subject to the laws of physics (unless you want this to change, too).

#blood tw #vampire #vampires #tw blood #worldbuilding