Hey so like this whole thing of using generic white woman names when making a point started with black people talking about how exhausting racism is

It seems like a lot of my fellow white gays have forgotten that and forgotten that hey lgbtq people can still be racist and do racist things and this is one of those things. We already have issues with racism in our spaces and we already have issues of us lgbtq people stealing shit from black culture and stealing their terms for dealing with their oppression
So let’s all collectively stop doing that shit if we’re not black yeah? Let’s go ahead and put down this meme we picked up that isn’t for or about us and never was

anonymous asked:

Reaper x reader where the smol reader steals his clothes a lot?

I  did this pre fall, hope that works for you anon!  Hopefully Reaper’s voice came out okay–I’m still working on figuring out his pre-fall character.

Gabe had never offered you anything to wear, even when you pretended to be cold.  You weren’t sure if it was because he knew that you weren’t cold, or his attitude was real.  All you would usually get from him was a “Shoulda been more prepared, Y/N,” with a chuckle.  Suffice to say, you never got him to offer you a jacket or even a glove.

So resorting to stealing his stuff?  That was his own fault.  One evening while he slept next to you you managed to sneak out of bed and grab his grey hoodie, throwing it over your head with a hushed giggle.  He didn’t even stir when you climbed back into bed, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling close.  By the time you woke he was gone, something you were used to.

However he had somehow managed to steal his sweater back, leaving you in nothing but a tank top to cover your torso.  It had freaked you out a little to know he’d gotten a sweater over your head without you noticing, but it only fueled your fire.

The next time you slept in his room you stole his boxers.  But again you woke without them.  Frustrated and feeling like this had become a contest, you found his hoodie slung over a chair by his desk.  You quickly dressed and grabbed it, making sure to throw it on before you left; this time he wasn’t going to get it back while you slept.  

You marched to his office, barely anyone giving you a glance knowing exactly who you were.  The boss’s s/o was never questioned; you could walk pretty much anywhere without anyone batting an eyelash at you.  But while you had a strange amount of power over those in Overwatch, you didn’t over your boyfriend.  So when you came to his office door you knocked and waited for him to say, “Come in.”

You entered, keeping your steps light and shutting the door behind you.  He looked up at you and you thought you caught him wince.  But he quickly grabbed a piece of paper and stood, walking over to a filing cabinet in the corner, his back to you.  

“Hey Gabe,” you said, remaining as cool as possible.  “What’s up?”

His grey hoodie hit you just below your shorts, giving the image of wearing no pants beneath.  You tucked your hands into the front pockets, cozy and warm in his sweater; you just wished he got a similar feeling when seeing you in his clothes.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” he asked, still refusing to turn around.  You heare papers shuffle as he searched through the files.

“No,” you replied, voice low.  You walked over to him, ensuring your footsteps were loud but he still didn’t turn.  You poked your head to the side, trying to get him to look at you but he only looked the other way.  You shuffled to the other side, and again he looked away.  “Why won’t you look at me?”

“I’m…looking for a file,” he said.  His fingers fumbled through the papers before him, drawing your attention.  “I’m busy right now so we’ll have to talk later carino.”

You almost believed him, but something in your tone irked you.  So instead of leaving you used your height to an advantage and weaselled your way under his elbow, forcing yourself between him and the cabinet.  Popping up, you pressed your back against the drawer and shut it with a loud slam.

“Why are your cheeks so dark?” you asked.  Gabe bit the inside of his cheeks, trying to turn away when you grabbed his face and made him look at you.  And there, along his cheeks, you saw something you weren’t even aware he was capable of.  You squealed.   “Are you blushing?”

He huffed at you, grabbed your wrists and lowering them, twisting his neck to look away.  Thankfully he didn’t try to run, and kept hold of you.  Finally, his eyes glanced down at you, slowly moving down your body before meeting your gaze again.

“How many?” he asked.

You pressed your palms flat against his chest.  “What?”

“How many people saw you come here…dressed like that?”  Again, he looked down at the hoodie that covered most of you body.

You shrugged.  “A few.  Why?  You embarrassed that people can actually see I’m your s/o?”

Hurt and anger swelled in your stomach.  Was that why he always took his clothes back?  Or didn’t kiss you in public?  He was fine if people knew you were together but seeing it was something completely different?  You pulled out of his grip and crossed your arms, looking down at his chest as a lump in your throat formed.  Of all the things you thought about your relationship, every doubt that would wriggle into your mind, him being embarrassed of you was not one of them.

“No no no, carino,” he said quickly, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him.  He pressed his forehead to yours eyes closed as he sighed.  His breath was warm against your skin, and you had to stop yourself from kissing him then.  “I…cannot have you wearing my clothes.”

“Why?”  You let your arms fall to your sides.

“Because I cannot stop from…”  He let out a huff of a sigh.  “I cannot control myself when I look at you in them.”

Your own cheeks warmed.  Looking up at him now you could see he was still flustered.

He continued, “It’s not…professional.”

A giggle escaped your lips, making him pull back and look at you.

“Sorry,” you said, “that’s just…really cute.  So you do like when I wear your things?”

With a small smile he let his eyes slowly take in the sweater you wore, lingering on your exposed legs.  “I like it when it isn’t a surprise.”

“Well you never offered so I had to resort to alternative methods.”

Gabe’s hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him.  He leaned down and took your lips into a soft kiss.  Your eyes fluttered closed, hands gripping his biceps as you pressed onto your toes.

“I’ll make you a deal, carino,” he said when he pulled away.  “If you stop stealing my clothes and walking down the hallway like this…” One hand slid down the curve of your ass before he pulled at the hem of your shorts.  “I will give you anything you want to wear when we are in private.”

“And you’ll stop taking them off while I’m sleeping?” you clarified.

He grinned.  “I can’t guarantee I won’t take them off while you’re awake, but yes.  I will steal nothing back.”

“Deal,” you agreed.

“Ah, you know how we seal deals,” he said, leaning down again.  “With a kiss.”

Yesterday, one of my discussions sessions was talking about the fear associated with wanting to be a math major, but not thinking of themselves as ‘math people.’ 

I told them I was never ‘math people,’ that I learned trig at age 23, calculus at 24, higher math at 25, and started graduate math at 26. Being ‘math people’ is a decision, and it’s never too late to decide to be just that. 

…Then they asked me what I did before age 23, and I told them about my law career…

…They expressed surprise that I had walked away from a very well-paying career to go back to school, then stayed in school after finishing my program. 


…I might have gotten too real. I say it all the time on here, but I said it to them:

There is nothing more important to me in this whole world than their understanding of mathematics. It is the reason I exist. It is everything to me that they will, in this lifetime, witness mathematics as I have come to know it. It is my life’s work that they meet this beautiful, indescribable thing that I love with all I am and everything I will ever be. I quit my career to dedicate all my time to it, traded my house for a one room efficiency so I could afford tuition and books, lost my marriage because my spouse didn’t support my decision to do this, and it was still a steal of a deal because what I got in return is the most valuable, important thing I could ever possibly do with my life. I’d live in a gutter and eat sticks and leaves and think myself a king as long as I could teach calculus all day and work on research all night. As long as I felt like I was doing a good job and my students were building a better understanding of mathematics, as long as I was ever refining my understanding of the inner workings of this incomparable abstract creature called mathematics, I would feel like a millionaire. 

I told them also that they already are math people. We talk about math all day, and we teach each other in the process. They bring new problems that I had never considered before, challenge me to think in different ways, and (for crissake) help me improve my shitty arithmetic abilities by keeping me in consistent practice. They make me a better mathematician, and it my greatest privilege and joy to think that I help make them better mathematicians, too. 

…Anyway, there were some interesting expressions on faces in that room, so they might think I’m a lil’ cray. But I don’t regret that, because I like to think it was obvious already (both that I am cray, and that I care a LOT about their learning calculus). My students deserve educators who feel that their learning of the subject matter is the most important thing in the entire universe, because it is. 

Imagine Anti watching people through a window to see how they interact with each other. Dark is already a master at perfecting how to be ‘human’ whilst Anti still struggles a little with interaction and tends to make things awkward.

(They don’t go out often but Dark takes trips to black markets sometimes. Boring business stuff Anti doesn’t understand, bless him.)

Anti’s just having a look out the window when he sees two friends hugging before walking off with each other, he looks around more and sees to women kissing each other on the cheek as they say goodbye.

Anti’s like, ’!!! Ah!! That’s how you do it.’ so off he goes to sit down and wait until Dark comes home. Dark gets a little stressed out when soul stealing and deals don’t work like he plans them, he tries to hide it but Anti just /knows./

So Anti gets up and goes, 'Welcome back!!’ and pulls Dark into a hug. Dark just stands there awkwardly but he doesn’t make any attempt to pull away, when Anti let’s go Dark is staring at him with an arched brow but doesn’t ask anything.

Imagine Dark about to leave to get some snacks only to get pecked on both cheeks from Anti. Dark just coughing awkwardly and leaving as fast as possible, Anti just standing there like, “Yeah!!! Good job me!!’.

“Some people are meant to be loved and others just naked” (II)

A/N: Part II of businessman Harry. It contains smut, daddy kink and it’s quite long. I’m stil not sure if it’s alright, but I hope you like it. 

Harry and Y/N are enemies in the business world but the perfect partners under the sheets.

Based on the song Wrong by Zayn ft. Kehlani

Part I. Part II. Part III.

Originally posted by ohbabyyeah

“Styles Corporations’ CEO Harry Styles enjoys 22nd birthday bash in tropical paradise with long legged beauty”

While no one would ever dream of describing Y/N as anything less than a genius, a business luminary whose accomplished eminence is often described as freakish by those who are several decades older than her yet much less successful, she could humbly admit to all of them that she was the biggest fool in the world for thinking that getting over Harry Styles would be easy. She didn’t want him back; she just wanted what he had taken from her. He could keep the black lace thong he had tucked into his pocket a couple of months ago after he had bent her over his desk, raining dirty words and harsh nibbles down her neck. But her sanity? He would definitely have to give that back. The sooner the better. As for delivery preferences, no white roses or puke-inducing handwritten notes this time, please. And while he was at it, she had another request: If he was going to be in her head all day, he should at least regard some sort of decency and put some clothes on. How inconsiderate of him. Chivalry is dead.

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Plus one

✖ Characters/relationships: Newt Scamander x Reader, Niffler

✖ Genres: Fluff

✖ Summary: After Newt returns from America he can’t seem to find any time to meet you so you decide to take initiative and wait for him in his apartment. [Based on this imagine] @Anonymous

✖ Disclaimer: All characters are at least 21 y/o unless stated otherwise.

✖ Word count: 2102

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Fuck Store Managers

Lets just say I fucking hate my Store Manager and wish she would fuck off. She expects way too much of her employees, and gets pissed when we cant be two people at once. Story below.

So basically I came in at 4 and was on a register for about an hour before I had to go to Uscan. Well i hadnt even been there for like 10 minutes when this lady came over there with a huge buggy full of stuff (😩) so im like okay. I notice she has a few things underneath her buggy, a 35(?) pack of water, a bag of charcoal and a 12 pack of glass beer bottles. Well i saw her “scan” the charcoal (i actually thought she had scanned it) and then i heard it say say something along the lines of “please place it aside and continue scanning” and her light is blinking, so i go over there, scan my card and look at her bags. Turns out she had taken one of our individual beers from the deli area and drank it while she was shopping, which is a definite no no. I went on to tell her that we cant sell them individually and that she has the buy the “make your own six pack” deal. She was like “well ive done it before” and i was like well we cant do that (we would loose our alcohol license!!) so let me grab my manager and see what we can do. Then she was like “oh ill just get the six pack” and then changed her mind and told me to get S(GM). So i did (i already planned on getting him) and when he came out i explained the situation and he dealt with it. So i figured she was going to get the six pack deal thingy before she finished scanning but she didnt, she paid for her order and went back towards the bakery, she didnt exit Uscan the way most people do which is past the register. While all of that was going on, this other lady only had a certain amount of money on her EBT card so im helping her at the register while keeping an eye on the other lady because S had left. I notice that she had NOT scanned the beer under her buggy, and as soon as she left the area i grabbed J(bookeeper)over and told her that if that lady goes through any of the lines to check her receipt and just then the lady and S come over to the service desk and he asks J to check her out and then i grab him over there and tell him the situation, and he went over there and literally checked everything on her receipt. She turned out to have two 12 packs of beer in glass bottles under her buggy she hadnt scanned, the charcoal hadnt been scanned, she had a cake with a coupon that she wasnt supposed to have, and she hid 3 candles under her purse. She planned to steal all of it. I know she ended up paying for the cake and two candles, and after she left she tried to come back in and say she had paid for the third candle, which she hadnt so we didnt give it to her. Well while theyre all over there taking care of her, im still trying to help the lady that didnt have enough money on her EBT and i finish with her and i had barely closed the cash drawer, the lady had barely even started to walk away from Uscan when L (SM) came over there and got mad that I wasn’t in the middle of Uscan like we’re apparently supposed to be. I try to explain that i was helping the lady with her EBT and she cuts me off and asks me whats going on over at the service desk, and I can barely even explain it to her before she tells me i need to be in the middle watching people and all that then she walks off. Then she grabs S and pulls him over to floral and they talk for about 5 minutes before S comes over to Uscan and tells me that C(coworker) and I have to switch immediately. I knew deep down inside she had literally no good reason to be pissed other than that we almost lost money. But guess who prevented it? Me. If i had not of known that she hadnt scanned the beer, nobody would have even looked at her receipt. No a single person. And she would have gotten away. I know I did the right thing, and she cant say otherwise because I will point blank explain to anybody who asks that nobody would have checked her receipt, not even L. We are told NOT to approach somebody when they are stealing and let the managers deal with it. Cant get mad at your own words, motherfucker.

TL;DR: Lady doesnt scan items at self checkout, I help prevent her stealing them, SM gets mad that i didnt stop the lady immediately, even though we are told not to approach somebody when they are stealing.

Dear Damian Part 5 (Older Damian Wayne x Reader)

Schninner: Well, this was going to be the last part of dear Damian, but a conversation with @the-singing-canary inspired me to prolong the suffering >:) have fun lovelies! <3

Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 * Part 4 * Part 6 * Part 7

(Reader is a Girl)

Tagging @maruthor@isabellegunawan@the-singing-canary

Warnings: swearing, bloooood, and the angst (oh, and a few possible gramatical errors, sorry!)

Word Count: 1173

Master List

Your heart thundered in your chest as cold sweat ran down your back. Your head whipped around to your father, only to find him with a twisted smile on his face.

“What’s the meaning of this?! We had a deal!” Words that you meant to sound angry and intimidating only came out in a terrified squeak.

This only seemed to delight your father more. “that’s right my dear, we did have a deal! What was it again? OH! That’s right! You work for me, and I will refrain from killing your little boy toy over here!” He said, pointing to Damian. He let out a sigh and continued,” But, sadly, I have found myself becoming… hmm … what’s the word?” He asked, rubbing his chin, his eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers. “Bored! That’s it! So I will, unfortunately, have to let you go. Guards! Seize her!”

Before you even had time to react, several of your father’s guards appeared out of nowhere and apprehended you, twisting your arm and pinning it behind your back causing you to let out a sharp cry of pain. Damian was on his feet immediately, his hands still bound behind him, and the guards still trying to force him back into submission.

“Don’t you touch her!” He seethed, trying to get out of the guards’ grip.

“You have me, just let her go!” He shouted at your father.

“Oh my! How incredibly noble of you Mr. Wayne! But I don’t think I’ve made myself clear, you both are dying. It’s nothing personal- “

“Bull shite!” You shouted, interrupting him.

“-Just have to tie up those loose ends, I’m sure you understand.”

You were both dragged, kicking and screaming to your father’s dungeon with your father standing a safe distance away looking rather amused.

The numerous guards that were holding you, threw Damian and you into the same containment cell. You fell onto the cold hard concrete floor, scraping your forearms. You shot up almost immediately, running to the cell door. The guards slammed it in your face. You scowled upon seeing your father on the other side of the bars smiling gleefully.

“I’ll give you two some time to catch up before the executions start. Oh! And I wouldn’t try escaping if I were you, because that would just mean that your deaths would come so much quicker, not to mention, they would be oh so boring.”

Your scowl remained engraved on your face, “You son of a bitch!”

Your hands darted through the bars and grasped his clothing. A look of bewildered Shock spread over his face as you pulled him to the bars, his head making a satisfy “Clang” as it hit the steal cylinders.

“We had a deal!” You screamed, repeatedly bashing his head into the bars while his guards tried to pull him away.


The guards then hit you in the head with a small, but very hard object, causing you to lose your grip on your father and stagger back into a pair of comforting arms.

The guards surrounded your scowling, and currently bleeding father. He glared daggers at you, “I will enjoy watching you die, Daughter.” He spat the last words out like venom, before briskly walking away.

Once he left, you suddenly remember whose arms are around you. You whirled around quickly, and let out a slight gasp at Damian’s battered, bruised, and bloodied face. You bit your trembling bottom lip, as you hesitantly reach your hand out to his face.

He closed his light blue eyes and gently leaned into your touch. Your fingers traced around the bruises on his face, a sob wrenched through your throat causing his eyes to snap open and pull you into a tight and loving embrace. You cried into his broad shoulders, letting your tears mingle with the blood dripping down from your nose and lip.

“I’m sorry Damian!” You said between sobs

“I didn’t want to hurt you, I never wanted to!”

He hushed you and gently rocked your trembling body back and forth. He lightly kisses the top of your head and whispered and a calming voice,

“I know [F/N], I know.”

He gently pulled away from you and looked into your [E/C] eyes. His hand gently caressed the right side of your face then made its way to your slightly swollen and bleeding which he gingerly grazed over with his thumb.

His eyes swelled with tears.

“I know why you did it, and I know you didn’t want to, but [F/N], why didn’t you tell me?”

His voice was dripping from the psychological pain you had put him through over that past several months. It broke your heart to see him this way.

“Why did you put yourself through all that pain, and all that suffering, just to save my rotten hide?” the tears were now streaming down his face.

“I did the both for the same reason. I did it, not only to save you, but to give you a second chance at a happy life, a happy ending. To give you the opportunity to meet a new girl- “your voice broke, and a fresh wave of tears came rushing down. “-fall in love with her, start a family with her. Because I love you Damian Wayne, and all I want is for you to be happy!”

“Well, there is a massive fault in your plan.” He scowled, his voice rising in anger as he gripped your arms. “Because the only way for me to be happy, if I am with you [F/N]! Not someone else, I need you!”

You both stared intensely at each other for a moment, breathing heavily, before pulling each other into a long passionate kiss. Your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair, and his around your waist. That kiss, lead to several more, until it turned into something else entirely.

You did although, eventually stop, and laid next to each other, eventually drifting off to a, surprisingly peaceful, sleep.

The morning came much too quickly. Sunlight seeped through the cell walls falling across Damian’s unconscious face. You observed his slumbering features, a small smile danced across your lips as you began to play with his raven black hair, twisting the semi long strands around your fingers.

Damian groggily opened his eyes and turned over on his side to face you. He pressed his forehead against yours, and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“God morning Dami.” You said softly, looking lovingly into his eyes.

“Good morning beloved,” He mumbled in a gravelly morning voice.

I would love to tell you that this is how our story ends, that you and Damian remained in each other’s arms, living happily ever after. That your father had miraculously grown a heart that night and decided to let you go to live out the rest of your lives. But that is sadly, not how our story ends. In fact, the worst has still yet to come.

The Prices We Pay - Chapter 1 - Part 2/?

 Rating: M

Warnings: Sex, age gap relationship, BDSM (always consensual), heavy alcohol usage, drug references, violence, daddy kink (dd/lg), and cheating. If you find any of these themes to be triggering or offensive to you in any ways, shape, or form, please reconsider reading this.

Authors Note:

Story Master-list : HERE

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We were Gods - Chapter 2

Golden; the lament of Patroclus

There’s a light in him. A molten skyline with soft edges and lazy thrown half-shades, that reflects like the blaze of fire on water. Pure, unbridled gasoline that pumps through his veins and pushes him - pushes pushes pushes - towards a larger goal, to something glorious, magnificent, real.

Sometimes he wakes in darkness that threatens to swallow him whole.

Sometimes he wakes in golden sunlight that catches in the little droplets of sweat on his front.

He’s not entirely sure which one is better.

He sorts his life in cycles and ages, and not in days or years like all the other do.

Patroclus is ten when Hector teases him about his olive skin and throws his gym clothes in a puddle of mud and rainwater.

Patroclus is thirteen when Apollo thinks he can beat the crap out of him.

(But Patroclus is fast, you see, and he runs and runs and runs until Apollo bends over and gasps for air like a fish on land.)

Patroclus is fourteen when he realizes he’s not like the other boys, because girls with bare legs and creamy skin or full, luscious lips do nothing for him.

Patroclus is seventeen when the sun blinds him and golden rays catch in the thick mess of curls of a young man; he meets Achilles.

It’s not until then, that his life finally starts.

Achilles runs.

Achilles always does.

Achilles runs if he’s angry. Achilles runs if he’s happy. And Achilles runs if he’s nearly collapsing from the weight on his shoulders.

So, Achilles runs.

And Patroclus watches him.

He watches him, because he loves the way the sun plays with Achilles‘ hair, or the way his face lightens up in the gold.


Always gold.

He loves him.

Tomorrow, Patroclus thinks and rests silent. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

Would you -

the boy breathes against his lips.

Legs intertwined, heat rising between them, fingers pressing in the hollows under his chin -

Yes, he answers, I would.

One day, he steals Hector’s aviators.

The boy can deal.

They look better on Patroclus anyway.

Demeter’s Diner is green and warm, with a ton of tropical flowers standing all around; a palm in the corner, golden Musas on the table, Hibiscus hanging in gaudy pink on the wooden counter. The wood and straw remind him often enough of a Haitian tiki bar. Patroclus loves it - three days a week he works Persephone’s shift so the girl can have some time off.

Achilles visits him every shift. He drinks a soda and talks when no customers are around. Sometimes he eats a Blueberry muffin and Patroclus observes, fascinated by how little crumbs of pastry stick to the corner of his mouth. The moment goes on, Patroclus eyes transfixed on Achilles‘ mouth - Achilles licks his lips.

Tomorrow, Patroclus thinks again and rips his eyes away, busies himself cleaning the counter with an old blue rag. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

He wants Achilles like he wants a punch in the mouth.

Like blood sweeping between his teeth and lips.

He wants to watch Achilles unravel, like a mess of guts churned together and being pulled apart one by one.

He wants Achilles.

But the risk asking Achilles if he wants him too is simply too high.

I would, Patroclus says.

You would what? -

Confusion. Hope. Fingertips painful around his throat.

I’d do anything, Patroclus answers again.


Hector corners him after his last history period.

Patroclus’ back hits the cold surface of the old school building and the rough masonry scratches through the thin cotton shirt he wears. The sun radiates its unyielding shine from the sky and dips the schoolyard in a sea of rich gold.

Achilles, he thinks and closes his eyes against the warm breeze.

Achilles, he thinks again when Hector’s fist meets his jaw.

RIVERDALE! (spoilers, obviously)

Let’s be real: this show is one of the most strident anti-capitalist manifestos from the last thirty years of television, and I am INTO IT. I guess we are all supposed to be worried about Jughead joining the Serpents, but let’s be real: the Serpents are the most functional family unit, business, and form of government in the entire town.

On the “right” side of the tracks where the rich people live:

-large-scale heroin trafficking fueling the US opioid epidemic
-murder (including fratricide & filicide)
-sexual assault, harassment, & slutshaming as a game for the scions of the elite
-attempt at coerced abortion
-sending pregnant girls away to horror misogyny nightmare camp
-rampant bullying
-statutory rape
-identity theft
-baby-stealing plots
-illegal real estate deals
-corrupt politicians taking kickbacks & illegal campaign donations
-police rule governed by monied interests rather than justice or protecting the vulnerable
-Madoff-style kingpin running his organized crime empire from prison
-generations-long blood feuds

On the “wrong” side of the tracks run by the South Side Serpents:

-drug dealing consists of small amounts of marijuana
-nice foster family welcoming in distraught abandoned teen
-high school where newcomers are welcomed and befriended immediately
-criminal activity for hire consists of “shouting at the screen and dropping bottles at the local movie theater” to make gentrifiers nervous
-gay teen gets hired by his non-homophobic boss to make out with other gay teen, at one point is applauded for doing great makeouts by said boss
-refusal to betray fellow community members for the sake of the corrupt police state
-new members of gang are welcomed with cool outfits & a new doggo friend
-alcoholic father gets clean for son

Anyway, I was expecting Jughead’s induction into the Serpents to be fraught with angst, but instead I think everyone should move to the South Side and learn to love again. I hope Joaquin comes back, and he and Kevin and Betty and Jughead all double date on the regular on the “wrong” side of town. Betty will be like “How was school today?” and Jughead will say “we raised money for the local soup kitchen, how about you?” and she will say “we found the flayed body of the JV field hockey captain in the school trophy case” and CAPITALISM IS POISON THE END.

Strawberry candy

Street racers!AU

warnings: strong language, theft, friends beating up each other over a girl, and car crashing.

You pushed back the rearview mirror of your victim’s car before throwing the loaded bag at the backseat. Pulling your hair into a ponytail, you started the engine thus pulled on the handbrake. It was midnight so you didn’t want the car to roar in the road as you pushed on the pedal, rather you dragged the car towards the farthest streetlight.

When you were finally a few meters away from your village, you started the engine and kicked on the pedal. You increased the speed of the automobile roughly stirring the wheel to your right until another car caught up beside you. You had to take a strong turn before you ended up in the venue with the car beside you. You could faintly recognize the model through your car’s tinted glass, but believed it was owned by a boy.

You got out of the car with the bag in your hand dropping it in front of the organizer, “Fifteen percent of it is yours, help yourself.”

The sound of diamonds hitting the floor caught your attention, your eyes turning to the boy standing next to you. He turned to you for a moment, then you finally recognized him as Lai Guanlin, the half-son of a mafia. He fixed his gaze back on the organizer, a small frown appearing on his face.

“Why do you keep coming back.” He said as he brushed his hair away from his face. You licked your lips slightly before replying, “I don’t remember there being a rule where you forcefully kick one of your opponents out of the race.”

He was about to speak up once again, but was interrupted by another man–Kang Dongho. Both were part of the gang around these quarters, they called themselves the 101, which you find very much stupid. Dongho showed his offer with a smirk, he asked, “How much did you put?”

“Just enough to steal those from both of you,” you gestured.

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kixboxer  asked:

Underground street racing

do you even KNOW ME.  do you know how much i have to wildly repress every urge in my sick, weary bones to write a fast and the furious AU???  let’s talk about VICTOR NIKIFOROV and his SEM’YA (”i hate it when you call us that,” yurio complains), a group of elite street racers in st. petersburg.  word on the street is that they (”they’re bravda,” agent nishigori corrects later, after yuuri’s gotten too close, “not sem’ya”) have been hijacking entire military convoys and stealing government weapons to deal on the black market.  previous attempts to infiltrate the group have been futile, and when pressured, the GRU contracts M16 agent and former japanese drift king yuuri katsuki to go undercover.

it would have everything i love forever, like SECRET IDENTITIES and MISUNDERSTANDINGS and yuuri and victor fucking in and on a ton of hot cars.  it turns out that the nikiforov family is being blackmailed by the russian government, because there are no bad guys in YOI, but russia has vladmir putin??? so anyway, victor finds out yuuri is a secret agent when he saves them from a set up, and they get into a fight and yuuri says, “let’s end this,” and they Sad Fuck in a car before taking down the entire russian government withs cars, and then yuuri offers victor a ten second car to help him escape and start a new life.  “that’s what you wanted after you beat me in that first first race, right?” yuuri asks, and victor takes him buy the hand.

“yuuri,” he says, “all i ever really wanted was you.”

anyway, they run away together and have more sex in cars and it’s SUPER. 

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Tales from the borderlands: sentence starters!
  • ‘’ and then I’ll probably kill you ‘’ 
  • ‘’ kiss my ass! you died alone! no friends! no Family! I’m not gonna be you! ‘’
  • ‘’ Who’s to blame here? I want a name ‘’ 
  • ‘’ fair point ‘’
  • ‘’ it’s a tourist shop right? by yourself a mug ‘’
  • ‘’ I hope that wasn’t like a really ugly person! ‘’
  • ‘’ I’m not afraid of you! ‘’
  • ‘’ catch a riiiidde ‘’
  • ‘’ I would NEVER betray you, bro! ‘’
  • ‘’ Not even worried about it, bro! ‘’ 
  • ‘’ they’re all like ‘oh yes sir’ and ‘oh no sir’ ‘’ 
  • ‘’ they’ve been a dick this whole time! ‘’
  • ‘’ what’s wrong with his face?! ‘’
  • ‘’ Would you stop sneaking up on me? ‘’
  • ‘’ Come here little ones ‘’
  • ‘’ Hey! Hey! I’m on- I’m on my knees here! Please don’t send me back there! ‘’
  • ‘’ I’m sorry ____ It’s over… ‘’
  • ‘’ I win _____ ‘’
  • ‘’ Oh I’m annoying? ‘’
  • ‘’ They’re motivational posters ‘’
  • ‘’ S/he’s gonna say me! ‘’
  • ‘’ That’s a lot of dough ‘’ 
  • ‘’ No one’s ever put me in charge of something expensive!! ‘’
  • ‘’ That’s bro! Bro! ‘’
  • ‘’ Oh shit ‘’ 
  • ‘’ This is the happiest day of my life ‘’
  • ‘’ What can i say? I trust ____ ‘’
  • ‘’ Ahh! Run! ‘’
  • ‘’ You’re the only one running pal… ‘’
  • ‘’ Face! his face! has no face! ‘’
  • ‘’ Spit it out dum, dum! ‘’
  • ‘’ Last i heard he was in your old office ‘’
  • ‘’ and then there’s ____ his/her nerdy little best friend! ‘’
  • ‘’ Come on slow poke! time’s a wastin! ‘’
  • ‘’ Sure thing, daddio ‘’ 
  • ‘’ You’re buying me lunch now, AND when we get back ‘’
  • ‘’ Ask him/her how many fingers i’m holding up ‘’
  • ‘’ He can’t do this to us! ‘’
  • ‘’ We steal his deal… ‘’
  • ‘’ You better get a eye installed at the back of your head because you never know when i might be creeping up behind you- and you.. ‘’
  • ‘’ Y-Y-you know all these stories where someone’s tears heal people ‘’
  • ‘’ Aww, really, that’s it? ‘’
  • ‘’ S/he was my hero! okay? what-what was i supposed to do? ‘’