#he may be a drug dealer but he is a drug dealer with MORALS
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Steve and Gareth as cousins warm up, part two!
First part is HERE.
Next part is HERE.
Reminder: Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.
Warnings: Steve and Robin Get (canon-S3) Drugged.
"I'm just saying the other theater is cheaper." Eddie said around the straw jammed in his mouth.
He carried the largest bucket of popcorn Starcourt’s movie theater offered, alongside the two boxes of candy he'd also demanded Gareth buy him.
"Easier to sneak into, you mean." Gareth corrected, with his significantly smaller bag of popcorn. His, he planned to share with Jeff, Grant having snuck in his own food.
Gareth himself would have snuck in the cheaper (and far larger) snacks, but Eddie had thrown a fit about going to the mall to see a new movie instead of Hawkin’s far older theater.
Of course, the older theater also had several disadvantages, key of which was terrible seating, and so, Gareth had bribed him with whatever treats he wanted.
His wallet took a hit but fuck it, at least they got to actually see the screen.
Not that they even made it into the fucking theater, because someone chose that moment to crash into Eddie.
Popcorn kernels and soda flew everywhere, with Eddie only avoiding it landing on him and Gareth both by years of dealing with this exact bullshit in school. Of course, the mall wasn’t school, and neither of them had their guard up.
"What the hell man--" Eddie spat, immediately on the defense, as they both turned to see what jackass wanted to cause problems this time.
Except Gareth had recognized the person who bumped him.
"Steve?" Gareth asked, causing his cousin to totter around and face him. He was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, which remained to be absolutely ridiculous, but that hadn't been what had drawn Gareth's attention.
No, that would be the absolute wrecked face staring at him with a doped up grin.
All thoughts of the movie immediately faded away.
"What happened to your face!?" Gareth demanded, immediately stepping up into his cousin's space, eyes darting over the damage.
Recent black eye, split lip, blood splatter all down one side of his neck, nevermind his clothes…
"Robs!" Steve called over his shoulder instead of answering, body moving as if he was walking on a wildly rocking boat and not solid ground. "Come 'ere!"
He beamed, which had the horrific effect of resplitting his lips. "Meet Gareth, my baby cousin!"
"I am two years younger than you." Gareth argued on automatic. He didn’t look to see how Eddie took this little piece of info--he’d figure out what he’d say later, when Steve wasn’t covered in blood.
It did not stop Robin from reaching out to pinch his cheeks.
She too, Gareth realized, was clearly high on something, both of them giggling and weaving on their feet.
At least Robin didn’t appear to be hurt--or at least, not hurt as badly as Steve.
"What the hell did you two take?" Gareth demanded, looking between them as he quickly put his popcorn back off to the side.
"We didn't take anything, dad." Steve said bossily, rolling his eyes. He spoke in a voice so unlike himself that Gareth knew his own face was doing something crazy.
Not that he could stop it because what the hell.
"What my patriotic friend here means is that we don't know." Robin added, smacking a hand onto Steve’s shoulder.
(The entire sentence was slurred and sounded like she'd shoved candy in her mouth before she started talking.)
"You don't know?!” Gareth asked, taking in the way Steve flinched when Robin touched him. Added a mental note to check his cousin's shoulder too. “How do you not know?"
Gareth wasn't panicking, he wasn't, except he absolutely fucking was. Steve's dad was going to kill him, disown him, and throw the body out of his house--in that exact order.
Gareth’s parents wouldn’t take him in, not unless his mom felt she could use it to one up her sister in some way which meant that Gareth was going to have to sneak Steve in and out of the house like he was some--some puppy Gareth was trying to keep and--
"Did someone give you two something?" Eddie asked, interrupting Gareth’s spiraling.
"Give is a very strong word." Steve said with a snicker.
Robin nodded so much she looked like a bobble head. She leaned in, nearly falling into Gareth in the process. “In fact it’s not the word I’d use at all! I’d use…” She trailed off, screwing her eyes up in thought.
“Made us?” Steve suggested as Gareth finally gave in to his instincts and reached out to steady his cousin. “Forced us?”
“Socked it to us!” Robin added with a weird amount of glee, and the two of them once again collapsed into giggles.
Literally, forcing Gareth to try and steady them both.
Which meant Eddie was right--they’d been drugged. It made perfect sense-- Steve wasn’t the kind to experiment with drugs beyond weed. Had in fact, given a very long lecture about how he’d make Gareth go on runs with him if he ever found out Eddie had given him anything stronger than weed.
There was no way he’d change now, and especially not around a jobsite. Particularly one as busy as the mall.
"You can't tell anybody." Robin continued, eyes so wide they were more white than pupils. "But we got truth serumed!"
As if that made any fucking sense.
Gareth turned a half frantic, half disbelieving look to Eddie--whose own face scared him almost as badly as Steve's did.
He was hiding it, and doing a good job of doing so, but Eddie was the one person Gareth knew better than Steve.
Right now? Eddie Munson was furious.
Not mad, or upset, or even as pissed as he had been the time Tommy Hagan had thrown his drug box in the river.
He was enraged.
"Hey." He said, and the only thing more shocking than realizing Eddie was this mad was hearing him talk in a calming, almost playful voice. "Sounds like you two sailors had a pretty rough time. Why don't we go to the bathroom and get you both cleaned up? I bet you'll feel a little better."
It was clearly the right move, because both of them looked downright delighted.
"He thinks we're sailors!" Steve said, cupping a hand around his mouth and leaning to talk in Robin’s ear as if he was whispering. (He wasn’t.)
Robin’s grin grew impossibly wider, before Eddie stepped forward to help Gareth half guide half herd the two into the nearest bathroom.
"I know you." Robin said, squinting dramatically as Eddie opened the door with his regular flair, bellowing for anyone in the place to get out.
It was Steve's turn to nod enthusiastically. "That's Eddie, Robbie." He said.
"I'm honored King Steve knows such a humble peasant's name." Eddie bowed as Gareth finally got both Steve and Robin into the bathroom, trying to get them to sit on the floor before they fell on their asses.
Which just made a hurt expression appear on Steve's face. "’Course I do. You have really pretty hair."
It had the effect of making Eddie look like he’d been punched and Gareth had to quickly turn his bark of laughter into a cough.
"I bet it's soft.” Steve continued, as he pressed his back against the tiled wall and slowly slid down to the floor. “Gare, is it soft?"
"It's very soft." Gareth agreed, trying to wet a paper towel with shaking hands. Finally he gave up entirely, ripping the plaid sweater he had tied around his waist and shoving one of the sleeves into the sink.
“Oh my god.” Robin said abruptly, sitting up from her own slouched spot on the floor as if she’d suddenly been stricken sober. “It’s him! He’s your type!”
“What’s my type?” Steve turned to her, as Eddie leaned his back against the door to the bathroom, blocking anyone else from entering.
“It’s like--like Nancy! But boy Nancy.” Robin seemed to think this made a ton of sense, and given Steve’s immediate groan maybe it did to him, but Gareth was too freaked out to even begin to process what the hell they were on about.
Probably nothing, given they’d been drugged.
Eddie seemed to pick up on his general anxiety and poor attempts at shoving down his own freakout, because he gently called out Gareth’s name.
“I think it’s wet enough.” He added with a raised eyebrow. His eyes drifted purposefully to the sink and with a curse, Gareth snapped shut the water off.
His hands were still shaking.
“Give it to me.” Eddie said gently, moving to take the shirt from Gareth’s hands. “Here, swap me Gare, and guard the door.”
Gareth did, as Eddie knelt down to take Steve’s chin in one hand, and carefully began dapping his wounded face with the wet sleeve.
“May I ask what battles you two sailors have been involved in?” He said, continuing to sound like playful, fun Eddie and not like he was about to murder half the town (which, Gareth could tell by body language alone, is what Eddie actually felt like) “Did you happen to catch a glimpse of the villains who did this?"
“Robin melted into Steve, rubbing her face in his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe us.”
Eddie smiled his most charming smile, a full blown rouge grin he played up as he continued to wipe and dab at Steve’s wounds. “You’d be surprised at what I believe in, my fair lady.”
Steve tried to talk, but ended up hissing as he ran into Eddie’s fingers.
“Russians.” He managed to get out, when Eddie quickly took the sleeve away so he could talk. “We got kidnapped by fucking Russians. Also we kinda saw some shit and they’re after us. Possibly you now if they saw you with us.”
There was the briefest of pause as Steve and Robin stared at Eddie, as Eddie stared back.
Then Steve and Robin as one started howling with laughter, so hard that Robin’s head ended up in Steve’s lap with Steve’s own head resting on hers.
Eddie turned to give Gareth a pinched look. “Russians.” He said, still calm despite it all. “Right.”
Which had to be the fucking drugs speaking.
Gareth just took a deep breath as Eddie managed to gently prod Steve back into putting his chin in his hand, shaking his head ever so slightly.
He didn’t know who he was going to actually have to murder, but at least Eddie looked to be on board with acting as his backup.
#tw drugs#tw canon bodily injury#Steve Harrington#Robin Buckley#eddie munson#Gareth Emerson#Gareth and Steve as cousins#secret cousins#whose family had a falling out#Eddie is fuckin PISSED#he may be a drug dealer but he is a drug dealer with MORALS#how dare someone drug people in his town!#mind hes thinking Steve somehow took a hit for Robin and then they still got Robin anyways but ya know#Gareth is having a full bore anxiety meltdown#He just wants his older cousin to be okay : ( \
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The co-host (Alastor x femreader)
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Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.
I’ve written like 5 other parts so do let me know if more is wanted
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“Hello and good morning listeners!” The radio in every household beamed with that familiar Louisiana accent. Brightening up their breakfast and drowning out the commotion from out in the busy streets. “Today’s broadcast is brought to you by your one and only Alastor. Of course it is! When isn’t it” he finished his sentence with a friendly chuckle.
“Today should be expecting dry weather and a muggy air! Oh what wonders this country brings us, right y/n?” he beams over to a presence that lingers next to his. “ it sure does Alastor!” The second voice replied.
”silly me! Listeners, today I am joined by my new co-host, Miss y/n l/n! Get used to that name folks, she will be involved in your morning routine as much as I am. I’m sure of it” The radio was interfered with cracks and breaks in between words. Old piece of junk, never lasted long in hell. Especially when you buy it second hand from a drug dealer. The channel was lost, y/n desperately tried to get it back but was instead surprised with the voice of Jack from Jack the Ripper of bad news. His broadcast about sharing only bad news of hell. Which was basically everything that happened.
Y/n clutched at her radio, frustrated. It was the only piece of property they owned since falling into this shit hole. What makes it worse is she remembers everything. There was no peace after dying, there was an eternity of falling and waiting. Wondering what the afterlife may bring you, wondering if heaven and hell really exist. Then comes the spiraling questions of, what if i end up in hell? No i couldn't, i lived a good life. But if i do end up in hell, i will never see my family again. What if this is the end, what if just fall forever. Then, just as you think this is your life now, you hit the floor. But there is no warm welcome of friends, happy to see you and inviting you home again. Instead, cold glances, threatening gestures and a crowd of unfamiliar faces watching you from every direction.
Y/n had used her life experience to their advantage, struggles in life made their struggles in hell easier. It was almost the same, just without the morals, and friendly faces. She managed to land a job in a club for a while, that was enough to pay for hells equivalent of a studio apartment. Pay check to pay check was the new normal, which wasn't necessarily unfamiliar. The main difference now was, no one knew her name. But not for long.
The club she worked in was like any other club, just with less shits to give and more fucked up to get. It was a strange change from a loved media presence. But you gotta do what you gotta do. Over time, though, you make friends with the regulars. Especially when you're the one pouring the drinks. This particular day was just like the rest, except for a certain, unknown and unwanted guest to be welcomed into the establishment. Y/N spent her shifts pouring drink after drink, cleaning the glasses that were downed and then pouring more drinks. Occasionally having a conversation with a customer, few of them being pleasant or remotely normal.
"Gimmie a drink love" a slurred voice yelled from the other side of the counter top, his body slumped over like he'd been shot and arms wailing about like he needed to be.
"The usual?" Y/n offered a smile, before turning her back to him to grab a glass from the counter.
"You know me" His wrinkled face made an attempt at a wink, while the rest of his body fought for him to stay vertical. The drink was in his grasp in just seconds of asking. You learn to get quick in this line of work. "Hey, y/n, you noticed that creeper staring acha?" He gestured his head towards the booth in the very corner of the bar.
"No, but then again, all of you are creepers" She turned again, trying to get back to organizing the shelves but he was persistent. "if i'm not mistaken, that is the sin of the wraith ring"
"You probably are mistaken considering you're drunk as an old pimp, Travis." The mans attention span for Y/N quickly faded, and he found himself back on the dance floor. Spilling his new drink over everyone while he popped his head up and down in the crowd. He was bound to be back soon. Music was rattling the glass counters behind the bar, making it hard to hear anyone without having to shout. So when the man from the boot appeared behind y/n, she couldn't hide the fact she was startled. His professional demeanor was a contradiction to his chilling appearance. What could only be described as a Goats skull was in place of a human face, wearing an old red top hat that was supported by a pair of curvy horns. He carried a finely carved stick, complimented with a gold crows head on the top which perfectly fit the curvature of his hand. And his eyes, were just cesspits of nothingness. Y/n was trying their best to find some sort of life in this moving entity, but it felt as if there was none. Till he spoke.
"I'm aware you have been waiting for this encounter to take place, Miss L/N" Nothing could have prepared her for the breeze that his cold tone brushed over her.
"I don't know who you are, sir" If she wasn't careful, he might be able to hear the fear building up in her throat. If her suspicions were correct, though, then it would be even harder to contain.
"Yes you do, don't play games with me. I'm not here for that, I'm here for what i am owed." He paused, tapping his long nails on the wood countertop. The only barrier separating the two of them. "Your soul belongs to me".
An upbeat tune played in the background of the radio tower, accompanied by a soft voice humming along to it. Cleaning after hours wasn't a hard job, but it wasn't what she wanted to do. She wanted more. More money of course, that was an issue during the depression, but also a name. For people to hear her talking and to be entranced and want to listen, just like how Alastor drew in so many people.
"Oh, sorry dear. I didn't realize anyone was here." His voice startled her for a brief second, before her eyes focused on the man in the doorway.
"It's ok, i didn't even notice you where there to be honest sir." She responded with a smile, continuing to sweep the floor of the confined space. "What are you doing here? I thought the tower was locked till 6am for broadcasts."
"Yes, it is. But i enjoy the solitude from time to time." he still lingered in the door way, now hesitant to come any further and ruin the newly cleaned floor. "Y/N, isn't it?"
"Yes sir. I apologize, I'm usually finished sooner than this but i guess i was day dreaming" She laughed nervously under their breath. Now moving to the station to turn off the music.
"Leave it on" He stepped in the the room. "I like this song", encouraging you not to turn the music off as he sat down at the booth Infront of you. "And call me Alastor, dear, we are technically collogues."
She smiled agreeably, sitting down in the chair opposite. "Thank you, Alastor." she sighed as the seat melted into them, feeling as if they hadn't taken a break in years. There was a brief silence between the two, letting the music carry their unspoken conversation.
"Your voice" he began again, pausing while she hummed in acknowledgement. "You have a voice for radio. Your pronunciation, your tone, the way you present yourself. Is that why you got a job here?"
Their conversations lasted until the early hours of the morning. Laughing, chatting, listening and then yawning when they realized how long they had been up for. Y/n reminisced, missing the simple and easiness of Alastor's companionship. The familiarity and comfort of those times she had with him.
"your sole belongs to me" His voice echoed again, waking y/n up from their trance. Music from the club came beaming back into her head. "The running is over now. I'm calling my favor. Don't worry, you'll benefit from it, but you wont like it"
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin charlie#hazbin angel dust#hazbin husk#x reader#alastor x reader#fem reader#Hazbin hotel x reader#romance#slow burn
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I have conflicting feelings about so called "therapy talk" in animated shows nowadays.
I'm not sure if I like the term in general because i think it's dismissive of the concept as a whole, which I feel throws the baby out with the bathwater. Like to me at least the definition of therapy talk means being extremely emotionally mature, being able to successfully identify and communicate your feelings, and using empathy to do the same with others' feelings. which I think are all good qualities to have in a person, but detrimental to a fictional story if this trait is shared equally amongst the WHOLE cast and that's what bothers me about its overusage now.
People just don't have interpersonal conflict this way!! especially amongst kids or teens. Or at least it's extremely uncommon to have these types of kindcore interactions with others outside of a moderated clinical setting.
Emotional intelligence like that isn't a switch you can flick, characters may repress things or drop a facade to deliver some truths or philosophy to the protagonist but it has to dovetail in with the rest of their character. A character who showed no previous capacity for such maturity just feels unnatural to suddenly act very wise for a scene if it's played completely straight.
For instance, Patrick Star is great at playing this for comedy. His sudden rare bursts of extreme mature clarity are so opposite to the rest of his character that it loops all the way back into the comedic. But then imagine a character like Scrappy Doo busting out a lecture on externalizing his unresolved anger from past experiences without a shred of irony. Or Jesse Pinkman breaking his character of a wannabe gangster drug dealer to deliver a carefully worded clapback to walt about toxicity and gaslighting explaining the deepest mechanics of his personality. It would kind of suck, right? Which is why when Aaron Paul's character in Bojack gets a scene like that as Todd, it's very introspective but still delivered in Todd's voice because the writers know Todd and know the boundaries of what he can articulate.
Characters can gain introspection and learn to understand themselves over the course of a narrative, but it has to feel natural and have some precedent. It's a bit annoying when all the characters resolve emotional conflict like they've taken a class in anger management before.
And i think a lot of it is the writer idealizing relationships and interactions between their characters and a weird obsession with morality in fiction now. We need to be spoonfed why this character is bad or what is currently occurring in a lecture from another character lest someone get the wrong impression from the text, in many ways it comes across as unconfident writing.
In a perfect (or dystopian to some) world everyone can communicate impeccably with everyone’s feelings in mind and people will come away with the exact reading of a text the author implied. and sure it can be good escapism if that’s what you crave. but it just doesn’t make for very interesting stories!!
Some writers will try to hide therapy talk under several layers of meta irony, but honestly those can feel even lamer to me and dare I say lazier in execution. It's quite literally telling instead of showing the audience exactly how a character feels by having them sarcastically voice their internal feelings in the format of a mindfulness diary prompt instead of feeling confident enough in your audience to pick up on those themes themselves through subtler acting cues or interactions. It's the internal conflict equivalent of loudly breaking the fourth wall to shout that motorcycle slide was from Akira, instead of having faith in the viewer to catch a reference on their own.
This kind of self aware speaking about emotions definitely has its place, most notably in preschool programming because many of those shows are about teaching kids emotional intelligence and conflict resolution. But I am getting tired of this trope in other genres for older audiences, let things be messy and ambiguous! Your characters don't have to be perfect people! Let them have misunderstandings and make mistakes in relationships instead of speaking like licensed counselors!!
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AITA for cooking meth with my former chemistry student, killing two people, and lying to my family about it?
I (50M) was recently diagnosed with inoperable, likely fatal lung cancer. I work at a highschool as a chemistry teacher, but both the pay and the students are terrible. Case in point, my "lab partner" (24M) - who we'll call "Cap'n" because of course he'd insist on a stupid nickname like that - not only completely flunked my class, but then went on to skip college entirely and become a meth-addicted drug dealer instead.
Understandably, I was a little shaken after receiving my diagnosis. It came as a surprise since I've never smoked, I keep myself in relatively fair health, etc. (Recently my wife has taken to vegan bacon- apparently it helps lower cholesterol, but I digress.) I haven't told my family about the situation yet; I'm still trying to figure out how to "let the cat out of the bag", not to mention I doubt my wife will take it very well.
As for deciding to try cooking methamphetamine, well. I'm not really sure how to explain it, exactly, but there's a lot of money in it, money that would benefit my family, and I don't have much to lose anymore. This may sound cliche, but it's as though I'm really awake for the first time in my life.
Cap'n and I formed a partnership by circumstance only; I found out he was in "the business" and offered to either turn him into the DEA or work with me, and he naturally took the second option. He had no idea what he was doing on the chemistry side of things - chili powder in the meth! applying heat to an Erlenmeyer flask! no wonder I flunked him, he clearly learned nothing in my class - but does know the trade.
(Note: Don't buy all of your supplies from the same store.)
Sorry, I'm getting too far into the weeds here, let me skip ahead. We purchased a trailer and drove out to somewhere in the middle of the desert to cook without added attention or need for dramatic cleanup if we had to leave the area in a hurry. Our first batch was, according to Cap'n, "pure glass." After all of that complaining, I had cooked the finest product he'd ever seen on the first try! Goes to show paying attention in school does pay off, ahem. In case any of you were reading this and thinking of skipping off to go and make highly illegal substances and risk years in prison instead of doing your homework. You all still have your entire lives ahead of you. I don't.
After making it, the next logical course of action was to sell. Cap'n said he had some connections - I mean, he is a drug dealer, I saw no reason not to trust him (I now see how little sense that makes.) - and came back with two men with guns pointed at both of us. You must understand, it was a kill or be killed situation. These are the kind of people who don't care about morals, or what's right or ethical or kind. If they'd lived... not just me, but my wife, my son, and my entire family would all be in serious, mortal danger. I had no choice.
Cap'n by this point had been knocked out cold- still alive, but entirely unhelpful with the situation at hand. I was on my own. So I offered to show the goons how I made the "glass", surely they wanted to see how it was done? And they did- I still can't believe that actually worked. But, ah, instead of actually cooking anything, I gave them... let's call it a chemistry lesson. When significant heat is applied to red phosphorus - a key ingredient in Cap'n and I's "extracurricular science project" - it oxidizes. Your result is phosgene gas, highly deadly, hence the "killing two people." One... technically isn't dead yet- somehow he managed to survive, I still don't fully understand how, but I'm... I'm working on it. Cap'n still has yet to get rid of the first body, so... technically I'm not failing to withhold my share of the cleanup, since he hasn't done so with his.
I realize now this is very long, but I wanted to explain the context for my actions. However, a tl;dr for those who might be in a hurry: I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, so with nothing else to lose decided to try to make some money for my family by cooking and selling methamphetamine. Coincidentally, a former student of mine was also in the business, and I convinced him to work with me. When we tried to put our product on the market, two people tried to kill us, so I acted in self-defense.
But I really, really must know... is what I did wrong? Should I have been content to live the rest of however-long-I-have-left working a miserable job as a public high school chemistry teacher instead? Should I have found a less fatal way of dealing with the two men who tried to kill me and my partner? AITA?
P.S. It's pretty late as I'm typing this so I might've made some errors in coherency or grammar, for which I apologize.
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So there's this web novel called Worm.
[art source]
It's about a dark and edgy world that's full of superpowered folks, and which is, therefore, about three steps away from dystopian collapse. Many places are already there.
The story is about a teenage bullying victim who gains powers, and uses them to become a very dangerous supervillain, despite her best efforts.
And anyone familiar with the RWBY fandom may have just gone "wait, this sounds familiar. Are there a lot of fics where a main character gets an alternate power set?"
Yes, yes there are.
In this fanfic I'm about to complain about, Taylor gets an already existing power that's already broken.
Canon has "Path to Victory", which is almost literally just an "I WIN" button. It tells "Contessa" what she needs to do to succeed at almost any goal she wants. She's a big blindspot for people who can see the future.
Some powerful entities can't be accurately predicted, she can't predict how people will "trigger" and get their powers, and she's terrible in space.
Taylor has the darker, edgier little brother. Which is just an "I WIN" button, with no “almost”. It means she gets to do whatever she wants, and she’s a borderline sociopath.
Someone tries to mind-whammy taylor? Nope, doesn't work.
Contessa tries to use PTV.on Taylor? Doesn't work.
Look, this is obviously, transparently a stompfic. And there two ways to go with that.
ROFLSTOMP, or take it seriously.
Make it a humour fic, or focus on how the protagonist seems strange to those around them, and how they see everyone else as strange in return. Also how the protagonists actions affect various people and the system.
If you want challenge just give them mutually contradictory goals. The power can't do x without risking or losing y and certainly can't take care of z at the same time.
I read a Harry potter story which gave Snape the path to victory and the last published chapter was snape sitting in a bar trying to figure out what he wanted to do next. Looking back, that was probably meant to represent the author.
You can tell a good dramatic story with an OP protagonist. You just have to work harder.
This story mostly worked hard on setting up literally contrived situations so Taylor can kill someone in amusing fashion. And people's amusing reactions. That's the main selling point.
And of course the author and Taylor say that she has no more moral issues with killing. Because ROFLSTOMP.
In fact, one of the first things she does is literally stomp Sophia to death.
Taylor will still go after hard drug dealers because they hurt people, but she'll leave soft drug dealers alone. And of course she hates the local Nazi gang.
In short, she's a very selective sociopath.
So the story tries to mix both types, including with Sociopolitical Commentary™. It doesn't work very well.
At one point Taylor cracks a joke about tech Bros.
Fun fact: Worm takes place in an alternate universe where there is a very slim chance that they would develop that particular slang. A universe that is culturally very different from our own. In fact, I'm pretty sure the original webnovel ended before "tech bro" was even really a phrase.
And when Taylor kills the local Injustice League, she gets the bounty, and decides to donate it to the city. Specifically, she announces, the general public.
And in case anyone was wondering why it can’t be given to businesses directly, she says trickle down economics doesn't work.
Let's ignore whether that's true or not. Trickle down economics usually refers to tax cuts. Not handouts and bailouts. Also the phrase was popularized mainly with Ronald Reagan's tax cuts.
Note that superheroes and villains started appearing on record in 1984. Reagan's first tax cuts were in 1981. His second were in 86. By 1985 in the worm universe, the breakfast club came out with Nic cage as bender. Superheroes didn't go public until 1987.
So it's possible that the phrase could still exist in the worm universe.
But it does seem strange that a teenager with little interest in politics happens to use it. In fact it seems a lot more like something an adult writer from our universe would use.*
And besides all that, it's just getting one note. No char development. Even the people reacting to Taylor do it the same way.
I mean I knew this was going to be self indulgent Mary Sue nonsense from the jump, so I really have nobody to blame but myself.
*To be fair, precedent does exist in canon. There's a character called Nice Guy. He can make himself appear to be a non threat, or even socially invisible, even when people are actively trying to find him or he's slitting a throat. Which sounds a lot like the 2000s internet feminist stereotype of a nice guy. Ironically, the character concept was originally for a girl.
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runt // jonathan crane x reader. (3)
Chapter 3
cross-posted on AO3
masterlist
Drug use is a cheap escapism and a thrill so momentary Y/N discarded the possibility of it's pleasure being worth the risk, the deterioration of all of one's self, and money it demanded. However it was only once she had begun to work for the drugs that she managed to understand their chokehold on people, and the lengths some would go to just for a short rush. Using this to her advantage may be considered by some such as the Batman to be a corruption of morals, but then again what does Batman know about struggle and the hardships of life? Someone who can afford such high-tech gear clearly has no issues with their bills, and can afford to spend his time playing hero and beating people in the streets instead of slaving away to a 9 to 5 to make ends meet.
The appearance of this new drug had awoken in her an undesired curiosity for someone that deflected from her focus in Batman, and that was the mysterious Dr. Crane. His name simply rung a bell, and she hated how little in control it made her feel to not know from where she recognised him. His face was certainly one she hadn't seen before, the man was rather thin and young, and his body language exuded a degree of awkwardness masked behind the confidence he tried to portray in the way he sat straight and rested his hands on his knees. Part of what allowed Y/N to discard the possibility of having ever seen Dr. Crane before relied on the fact that his eyes were unforgettably piercing and blue. So much so that even the lens of his glasses couldn't mask how alluringly icy they were.
It was while she let her thoughts consume her that she delved in the many books and loose papers that crowded her desk, looking for her draft paper on anthropological studies of addiction and the social connotations behind substance consumption. While she dwelled on her self-guided studies and swiped violently through the endless papers she had printed for her research, her eyes picked up on key loose letters that matched with her recent trail of thoughts. Jonathan Crane on The Subject Of Fear. Isn't that a convenient coincidence? As far as she was aware Dr. Crane is (or was) the same Professor Crane from the seminars on phobias in Gotham University. How preposterous she thought, the man who had once conducted studies interesting enough to motivate her to print his thesis seemed to have a side gig as a drug dealer. Gotham truly was beyond saving, which only irked her deeply, as her brother's death was only further in vain to feed Batman's savior delusion.
"This new stuff is moving fast." Y/N looked at Selina through the corner of her eye, her hands stretching her face's skin as she did her makeup. Selina's response was the usual short and cut by the silence that followed, 'it's fast indeed'. Y/N eventually gathered that with a woman like Selina discretion got you nowhere, and even if she trusted her as little as Selina trusted her, eventually she figured there was no harm in making a straight forward question that would corner her into giving a resourceful answer. "I heard a professor from Gotham University is producing it." It didn't matter if he was or wasn't, or the veracity of this claim, Y/N only knew that she only had to stick to the truth to a reduced degree, and mistakes in her phrasing would only grant her further answers in the shape of a correction if she was asking the right person.
"I don't think he's a professor there anymore. I'm pretty sure he works at a nuthouse now." Selina scoffed in disdain.
"As in Arkham?"
"I know as little as you do." Her ability to deflect from Y/N's persistence was a true talent, an irritating one at that.
"That's crazy, a what... psychiatrist, is selling drugs?" Her humorous comment was of no amusement to Selina, who's face contorted into a frown as the conversation prolongued itself dwelling on Crane.
"For all I know he's probably making them."
"I heard he owes Falcone a favor and that's why he's producing for him, he don't look like the type to roam around places like this." A third girl chimed in the conversation, unable to hold her tongue at seemingly harmless gossip.
"You're right, he doesn't." Selina got up before leaving the room leaving silence behind her, The Penguin walking in as his manhood tainted the intimacy of the female room. The girls incorporated their postures and rushed their makeup, in the booth hung around the topless strippers, other waitresses and Y/N. Oz approached her with his usual demeanor, his unfriendly friendliness that she hated.
"How are you, doll? I need you to do me a favor." His hand once again obscenely grazed the skin on her shoulder, nothing Y/N wasn't used to, but that didn't mean she rejected his touch any less. It was shocking to her that The Penguin hadn't tried to sleep with her at that point, or that she hadn't had to sleep with any of Falcone's men. Frankly, the waitressing title was only Y/N's attempt to keep her job sounding honest and clean, but nothing made her feel more like a hooker than roaming around in her tight latex corsets and dark eye makeup in a seducing manner as she'd lean near the tables to serve.
"There's gonna' be an important guy downstairs with me and I need you to bring some candy to the table later, be pretty." His arm slid from her shoulder to hold her chin before he smiled, walking out of the room. She knew what this meant, she had to sit with Oswald and whoever was keeping him company as an accessory, and hopefully nothing more. It was soon enough that she was graced with the sighting of the seemingly popular Dr. Crane again, in company of Oswald and two other men, girls leaning on the headrest of the booth where they were gathered. Ironically, it only seemed that Crane was summoned by her own thoughts, to her convenience.
Her silver platter contained the drops Oswald had ordered, which she offered to the table lowering her torso and arching her back slightly enough to be suggestive, but not obvious; standard procedure. "There you are baby, come over here." The Penguin's raspy voice as he tapped on the small gap left to seat beside him invited her to scoot over. As she sat, she rested her head on her hand as she leaned on the table, her eyes pierced on the Doctor. The scrawny young man's head tilted slightly as he picked up on her eyeing, his body language questioning her for staring. Intimidated, she looked away.
"You met Dr. Crane before right sweetheart?"
"You asked me this before Oz." Y/N retorted with a scoff, The Penguin laughing at her as his arm wrapped around her shoulder.
"My bad. You know Doctor here, he's really all they say." The Penguin spoke in his loudness as he laughed, his grip on her tightened into a side hug, wobbling her around the place unaware that his significative size difference over her did a number on her own comfort. Visibly drunk, Oz continued to spill loose details on how Crane had produced a temporary replacement to the drop scarcity caused by The Batman that was doing fantastic in his words. Penguin seemed to owe Crane nothing but words of praise.
Y/N knew company girls weren't exactly supposed to speak in the table when the men were talking business, but Penguin seemed to have all intentions of offering Y/N to Crane like a gift with a pink bow. Crane was visibly uninterested, but nothing she couldn't brush off by engaging in small talk that only seemed to endorse in casual flirting. Her facial expressions shifted from surprise to a praising smile as The Penguin rambled, going back and forth between him and the Doctor. "You're a professor in Gotham University aren't you?" she finally gathered the courage to ask, trying her best to mask the hard gulp of saliva that followed her phrase.
"Was."
"Oh, sorry. I used to work there and I read your paper on fear." At that point, she was being downright audacious, but she kept strict attention of Oswald's body language to know where she should draw the line, and the lack of an indication that she should stop being so forward only fed her further boldness. How unexpected her comment was that it caught Dr. Crane's actual attention, his eyes peeping back up at her with a newfound special focus.
"You have? Interesting, I don't reckon seeing you there."
"Oh I was only a janitor, but I listened to some of your classes in my free time, I hope you don't mind..." she quickly excused "It was merely out of interest, eavesdropping won't grant me a degree at your expense." Y/N laughed off exposing herself with a charming giggle between her teeth.
"No mind payed." Crane gifted her a slight smirk of approval to dissipate her worries, to which her body slightly relaxed unconsciously.
"And you're not teaching there anymore?" She slowly slid away from under Oswald's arm to once again lean slightly closer on the table, taking advantage of her knowledge and extreme consciousness of body language. It often slipped her mind to pay attention to what her gestures communicated to the world, but when she was paying attention she not only perceived what her posture portrayed, but picked up on how others around her felt. Now Crane was no fool, and being highly educated in psychology granted him the ability to also pick up on these gestures, and when one is abusing of them to mess with an individual's perception of them.
"Not any more, I took a job more fulfilling to my field of interest in the Arkham Asylum." It was right before the Doctor was ready to open his mouth again that the cackling of The Penguin interrupted the both.
"No stigmas intended Doctor but it's hard for me to assimilate that you have a side gig at a nuthouse." Oswald leaned back and he slapped the headrest of the booth laughing, his other hand reaching for his whisky. Something about the emphasis The Penguin had made in the pronunciation of his last word seemed to irk Dr. Crane, who's eye twitched only so slightly before breaking eye contact with Y/N
"It's no side gig, Oz." Dr. Crane seemed to try his best to maintain the offense taken in check, pursing his lips after he spoke and his tone rising only so slightly someone paying meticulous attention barely could perceive. But she did, he barely moved, or indicated it, but seemed to be very serious about his line of work. Contrary to what The Penguin foolishly believed, Crane most likely practiced the manufacturing of drugs as his side gig, and not the other way around. "I'm fully devoted to my job, it's why I'm here." The latter rapidly ignited Y/N's curiosity over him once again. What link could working at Arkham possibly have with the drug world? Existing psychotropic drugs, as far as she was concerned was not what the Doctor was selling, given the fact that The Penguin and everyone around her kept calling the drugs new stuff. Perhaps he was in charge of producing new psychotropics, but then again it only seemed incompatible with what he taught in Gotham University; psychology.
Crane had obviously already picked up on the special attention Y/N was granting him, and while he had to admit he was impressed that who he could only describe as a lowlife hooker waitress in a criminal hangout spot had read his thesis, he foolishly only gathered that the reason for her attentiveness was nothing more than Oz himself, ordering to offer herself as a prize for successfully complying with providing the stock of new stuff he'd bought from Crane. How demeaning, he thought, struggling to understand how some women could sell their dignity for an easy buck. Crane himself never cared for money, his passion fixated solely on his field of study.
However while the desire of going to bed with the unknown woman prompted no interest in Crane, she seemed like an easy muse to experiment on. Since being fired from Gotham University, Crane had been limited to the ability of experimenting solely on nutjobs, and while this was also of extreme interest to him, likewise all living beings who displayed fear, he had to admit he missed the diversity of trying his toxin in development with conventional, sane people. It was this motivation that pushed Crane to perk his eyebrows and tilt his head in her direction as soon as Y/N looked away, The Penguin's nod of aproval tacitly communicating with no use of words that she was his for that night, call it a thank you present.
#jonathan crane#scarecrow#jonathan crane x reader#scarecrow x reader#the batman#batman begins#nolanverse batman#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader
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Why do you not like Jason as a crime lord? I don't think I've met any fans who don't. You don't have to answer this if you don't want to. Thanks.
Thanks. Loaded question but who reads DC comics and doesn’t love to rant once in a while?
People who want Jason to be a crime lord are a mixed bag, anon. From my experience, some are nostalgic of when Jason was a villain; they want this to be the hill on which Jason fights Bruce & co (and dies on). Some are just severely naive fans. Some are fans who want Jason to stars in gangster stories, etc... Nothing that interest me.
1. I'm okay with Jason killing traffickers and dealers, but not him becoming one. That’s an actual deal-breaker for me.
2. I don't want to see Jason becomes what he hates for no reasons.
Beating dealers and crime lords, making them afraid to deal drug to kids... Jason achieves nothing as a glorified drug dealer that he can't accomplish as a vigilant. Affiliating RH to organized crime is more of a dead weight and a moral liability to his character than anything else.
Also, anyone who think Jason is an actual crime lord in UTRH is basically telling me they don’t have enough reading comprehension to read/watch UTRH or a dictionary at this point. (More about that below the cut if you care.)
3. Jason being turned into a crime lord is not going to magically solve how DC portray him.
DC will never let a crime lord be the solution to crime their heroes can’t be, or imply that what Gotham need is a "good crime lord", or that such concept even exists... That shit is irl harmful. Such direction can only validate DC when they'll portray him as a scumbag or a cautionary tale; "he who fights monsters become the monster" and "Batman was right about Jason being a bad apple all along".
I hope this delayed answer clear things, anon.
*
A crime lord is someone who run and lead a criminal organization for profits. It’s the literal definition. Aside when Jason shortly takes over Penguin’s club during Rebirth RHATO, calling him a crime lord is a misconception or simply an informed attribute. UTRH never refers to Jason as being a crime lord. The flanderization happens after UTRH and my best guess is that DC went there to mark a distinction for their readers. So, they do not confuse RH (a vigilant but also a full-fledged villain for the rest of post-crisis continuity) and the ideal(ized) vigilantes Batman & co, whom readers should root for.
So, yeah... Jason isn't a crime lord in UTRH.
The only thing Jason leads there is his own operation, much like any vigilant. He blackmails actual kingpins into paying him so they stop working for BM. A "subscribe to my protection and policy or die" sort of deal. Then he kills and arsons underlines and stocks of the traffickers he didn't rope in. The goal is to weaken Black Mask’s empire, N°1 crime lord in Gotham and it's not to overtakes him.
RH has no hands in the drugs operations or business. He never touches that. He has no plans for some expansion or unification too. The actual crime lords in the story regards him as a madman, a big bully and a thug. He would have let that kingpin he roped in by force get burned alive by BM’s men if he didn’t have to pretends and keep BM’s manpower divided.
I can't remember or care to check if the whole "regulate the drug market to control it” is fanon or also a direction that pop-up later in post-crisis. But UTRH!Jason isn’t leading a criminal organization. He’s leading a scorched-earth policy. There's no regulation of anything aside the "no child rule", and RH never claims such. He’s stirring shits in Gotham’s underworld, pocking at a hornet's nest, to get Batman's attention. UTRH is the story of a ghost coming back to haunt Bruce/Gotham.
If you go with the movie version, Jason also stirs things so BM pulls Joker out of prison and get his hands on the clown. Potentially, this is why Jason use the moniker of RH. If BM goes to Joker for help, it’s because he thinks Joker may know who RH is, or is behind all this, since the clown once used that alias himself.
RH has no regard for any criminals involved, while actual crime lord Jason entails that Jason employs and works with a bunch of people who makes a living of smuggling and selling drugs. That he makes a profit over addictions and trafficking and he feeds that industry on some level. Regardless of how you justify this choice or not, he becomes an active wench in poisoning society and not just the underworld.
That's a BIG side-step from what RH does in UTRH, and worse, in complete contradiction with his character or motives prior to his death.
Drugs, thugs, dealers destroyed his childhood, his mother's life and jeopardized his by proxy. Jason doesn't idealize criminals or heroes. He doesn’t see anything moral about being a vigilant and thus don’t see a point in Bats’ “being better than them” mantra. Moral =/ Justice. His whole schism with Bruce steams from that.
So no, I’m not enthusiast about seeing Jason work with people he loathes, or turn into something he hates. For no real gain, again because he can do the same as a vigilant not affiliated to the drug business.To be clear, DC will never let him solve crime, obviously, but if turning Jason into a "he who fights monsters become the monster" villain so the moral can be "Bruce was right all along" isn't the point, going back to UTRH or crime lord Jason is not a viable direction.
That's about cover my thoughts on the subject. :p
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Lets Talk: HYPERGAMY
DISCLAIMER: This isn't a get rich quick, scam-a-sugar-daddy-today, femme fatale type of blog.
This blog is for grown, powerful, embodied women. Women who are breaking generational patterns. Women that have been told their standards are too high. Women that know in their hearts they are destined for more. Women that are ready to do the inner work. If you are looking for tips on how to get a sugar daddy to pay your rent for the month, respectfully this isn't for you.
This is for the Blair Waldorfs of the world.
Lets get into it.
Hypergamy essentially is raising your dating standards.
Vivacious's definition of hypergamy: The act of dating in such a way that increases your quality of life.
If you are dating a scammer, drug dealer, etc. Granted, you may be dating someone with means but that could never be a hypergamous relationship. At least in my books. Why? because in exchange of money you are giving up your peace of mind, morals, integrity and so much more. Is that really increasing your quality of life? NO. That is substituting one problem for another. So yes you can date a rich man and it would still not be considered a hypergamous relationship. This is why a lot of women marry really rich men and are still unhappy.
In addition, there is this misconception that unless you are dating/married to a millionaire you are not considered hypergamous. This is also false. As i mentioned earlier, hypergamy is all about levelling up. Asides money, your partner should be inspiring and encouraging you to take your life to the next level. Does he have an amazing work ethic that you just swoon over? Do you admire his leadership skills? his selflessness? his sexual discipline? Is he capable of being a loving father? So your daughters know how they ought to be treated? Its the whole package.
Hypergamy isn't a fairytale.
A lot of women think they can simply just sweep through life doing the same things, being the same person & attract a provider/hypergamous relationship.
The chances of you attracting and maintaining such a relationship with the same attitude that attracted your dusty ex is slim to 0.
In order to change our lives we must first change ourselves. This is a new beginning. Leave the old baggage at the door. Your levelled up man also wants a levelled up woman. This may be hard to hear but if you are broke and unable to provide for yourself FIRST, you have no business looking for a man. If you are attachment style isn't leaning towards secure, you have no business looking for a man. If you constantly need male validation and cant stay alone without landing in another unserious "situationship", you have no business looking for a man. You cannot skip the process. If it was easy everyone would be in a hypergamous relationship.
EXERCISE
Get your journal and a pen
Write down the qualities of your dream man
Write down the qualities of your dream self
Slowly start embodying your list. (this is how you attract him)
Hypergamy requires you to be delusional.
It can be a very lonely journey, especially at the beginning.
When you decide to level up and date better you are going to get a lot of resistance. This could come from the dusties you once entertained, your old friends who still entertain said dusties and worst of all, yourself. The version of you that still thinks its unattainable. The truth is that most people settle because of limiting beliefs. Due to what we see around us. Unfortunately the new norm is cheating, lying, broke, untrustworthy, insecure men. So people will call women with high standards delusional and if that's what you have to be then so be it.
Prepare for this and don't take it personally. However if you choose to let fear get to you and you start entertaining that dusty, just know you are saying NO to the man of your dreams. Walk in faith not fear.
EXERCISE
Get your journal and a pen
Write down the qualities of your dream man
Write down the qualities of your dream self
Slowly start embodying your list. (this is how you attract him)
Reject any & every man that doesn’t meet your standards
XOXO, Vivacious
#divine feminine#high maintenance#femininity#spirituality#high standards#high value woman#self care#black girl luxury#goddess#feminine journey
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Canon CoD Characters as 70s Slasher Characters
Just like with the TF141, I'm going to be putting these characters into the stereotypes that I think they'd be in a 70s slasher. Once again, none of them can be the killer.
I've also done this post with Non-Canon CoD characters as well!
Alex would be a background character. Perhaps he has a few interactions with the final girl, perhaps he's just a background character. Either way, he's not super fleshed out in the slasher, which makes him either fodder or someone who gets away. He'd definitely be one of the characters that fans of the movie would beg to know more about, probably has a great fight before dying, or he helps others escape from the killer. If he's used to pad the body count, he's going down kicking ass.
Farah is either the smart girl stereotype or the legend person. She'd realize pretty damn quickly that she's in a horror movie and then it would depend on her role. As the smart girl, she'd be working with the final girl to make traps for defense against the killer. However, if she's just there to tell the legend of the killer, she's dipping so fast. Listen, if it was a human, she'd be in your corner. But the killer you're facing with her as Ms. Exposition is supernatural. She would, rightfully, not fuck with that. Probably helps Alex evacuate people still and tells the final girl how to kill the killer if such information is available. If she does face the killer, she's going down swinging dammit!
Kate is Ms. Exposition. If the killer has any information on them, she'll get it to the final girl. One of the characters that immediately realizes that she's in a horror movie. Is probably not with the rest of the cast physically, so she's the most likely to survive (outside of one person, but we'll get to them). Not quite team mom, but gets protective of the final girl should she help out. If she does end up facing the killer, you can bet that she's going down fighting.
Alejandro is the lovable jock. He forms the classic pair of nerdy-and-jock-friends with Rudy (who we will get to next). He's smarter than the usual archetype, but he's self deprecating, insisting he's only good for his muscles. However, due to being this archetype, he also suffers from the Worf effect, usually being one of the first killed to show how strong the killer is. He does go down swinging, though, sometimes leaving a wound that the final girl can use to defeat the killer.
Rudy is the cute nerd, as the other half of the nerd-and-jock-friends with Alejandro. He helps the survivors realize they're in a horror movie, usually upon finding Alejandro's corpse. He'll come up with traps and ways to corner the killer, but he's more likely to go straight after the killer for revenge. He's definitely going down with a fight, if he doesn't stay with the final girl. Usually dedicates the kill in honor of their fallen friends.
Valeria is the drug dealer. Because it 's a 70s slasher, with the Hays Code still being a heavy guideline for movies, she's going to die because of moral reasons. There might be implications that she crosses the border as well, because we all know those old slasher movies are just a look at cis, white, conservative men's fear. Because of both of these reasons, despite how badass she is in CoD, she'd be killed without a fight, in a painfully drawn out way. (If it was a newer slasher, she'd probably escape, honestly.)
Graves is the Asshole© of the group. He drinks and smokes, similar to Soap, but he also refuses to take no for an answer unless someone else forces him to accept it. When the kills start piling up, he tries to leave, not in the terror way but like 'fuck y'all, I ain't dying for dick'. This does not save him as he's guaranteed to die now, once again because 70s slashers tend to be morality tales. Abandoning people is a no-go, and Graves dies for his crime of betrayal, usually by surprise, meaning no fighting back.
Makarov is the "human" antagonist. He's not the killer, but he may have helped make the killer into, well, the killer. Or he's the asshole who wants to get something from the group. Because of this, however, he'll usually disappear in the 2nd half of the movie. Is he dead, did he escape scot-free? Who knows, not the audience. He can be interchangeable with Graves' character, as to not make too many unlikable characters on screen. Once again, the morality of 70s slashers makes him die, if he dies, anticlimactically.
Nikolai is the driver of the vehicle that drops off the final girl. You remember me mentioning someone surviving with Kate? Yeah, this is him. He drops off his passenger and fucks right off. He might not even know that a killer is loose, but he's not staying. He's got other shit to do. If he does get caught by the killer, he's fighting, with a high chance at taking the killer down with him.
#Call of Duty#my work#alex keller#farah karim#kate laswell#alejandro vargas#rudolfo parra#valeria garza#philip graves#vladimir makarov#Nikolai CoD
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You Don’t Own Me
Filthy One Shot
Dom!Drug-Dealer Eddie Munson x Popular Fem Reader
Eddie sitting so smug and official on his throne makes me feral so I had to turn it into something
Summary: You go looking for Eddie Munson after school to score some more party favors and find him alone in the theater department after one of his DnD campaigns. But it’s not the drugs you’re addicted to.
Warnings: Lots of smut 18+ Dom Drug Dealer Eddie x Popular Fem Reader. Drug deal, refrences to hard drugs, unprotected p in v sex, light bondage, cheating, blackmail (it's vague), oral (m recieving), creampie (I fn hate that word but what’re you gonna do), Eddie is actually a sweetheart, derogatory names, pet names, vulgar language. Pet play kink, exhibitionism kink, size kink, praising kink, breeding if you squint. Soft sweetheart in the streets, mean dom in the sheets. May be a bit descriptive of the dick and cum scenes. #so be warned it might be gross.
Song Inspiration: ‘You Don’t Own Me’ by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
Word Count-3.1k
Your first time meeting Drug Dealer Eddie here
“Hey, Babydoll. Been wondering when you’d show up again,” the long haired metal head leaned back in the high backed throne that was kept in the prop room of the school's theater department. The Dungeons and Dragons after school group, The Hellfire Club, used the room for their weekly meetings, and their leader had made it a point to drag what he called ‘The Master’s Throne’ to the head of the game table. As the club's appointed Dungeon Master, what he says goes, otherwise your character might not make it through to the end of the campaign. On nights after the campaigns, he sometimes holds open ‘office hours’ for drug deals to those students in the know, since the theater teacher never actually stays after school when she loans the room to the club.
“Hi, Eddie,” you greeted him sheepishly. He merely sat back with his elbows propped up on the arms of the throne, his hands clasped together as he looked you up and down. You shuffled your feet nervously as you stopped at the door, letting it swing shut behind you. Fuck, you shouldn’t be here. After the first time you had bought—or rather, traded for—drugs, your boyfriend had been growing more suspicious of your elusive behavior. He had almost suspected something when you went to his house right after your encounter with Eddie that day and he had felt how much more wet you seemed when you started fooling around. Your blood had run cold as you hoped beyond hope that he just thought it was only your fluids he was feeling, and you swore to yourself that you’d start being good. But, here you were again, facing your hot drug dealer in his private quarters.
“Well, step over here and have a seat, sweetheart,” Eddie gestured to one of the vacated chairs at the edge of the table. Your heels clicked on the linoleum as you made your way towards him, hoping it wasn't obvious that you had chosen those shoes for a reason. And your skirt. And your little pink leather choker. He watched as you sank down into the chair beside him before reaching down to pull out his metal lunchbox from beside the throne. “So what can I do for you today?”
“I’m…I'm here to get some party favors. For a, um…y'know, a-a party,” you blushed at how flustered he made you, but he just smiled warmly as he waited for you to finish.
“Sure, hon. Anything in particular?” Eddie flipped open the top of the lunchbox with a crash, eyeing the contents.
“Um…I was wondering if you had any…coke,” you said softly, not daring to look him in the eyes. You felt his stare boring into you as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt.
“I do. But, I don't sell blow to teenagers, sweetheart. Gotta have a moral line somewhere, right?” he grinned, tilting his head down to enter your line of sight. Your eyes lifted to meet his and he was regarding you with an almost parental expression.
“Oh, um…okay. I’m sorry,” you blinked and looked away again.
“Don’t be sorry, love. Tell you what, I’ll give you a bulk discount on some bud and uh…I’ll sell you some coke when you’re older. How’s that sound?” Eddie offered, his eyes fixed on your blushing face. You looked back up at him and nodded, returning his smile. He fished through his lunchbox and pulled out a sandwich bag of the green plant, the odor almost instantaneously hitting your nostrils as he dropped it on the table. He shifted in his seat to lean on the arm of the throne, looking from the weed to you.
“Now, how will you be paying today, angel? Cash or cunt?” Eddie asked tauntingly as he fixed you with a devious expression, his kind playfulness melting away. His question caught you off guard, causing you to stare at him like a deer in headlights before having to shift in your seat to clench your thighs together. He picked up on your tension and moved to rise from his throne, slamming his palms down on the arms and pushing himself up before walking around to stand behind you. He placed his rough hands on your shoulders, rubbing them gently before sliding them down your chest and stopping just before the neckline of your shirt. You shivered at the coldness of his rings on your bare skin as he bent down to where his lips just barely grazed your ear.
“If this is what you want, all you gotta do is say yes,” he whispered, earning an eager nod from you. “No, doll. See, I need you to use your words.”
“Y-Yes, Eddie. Please…fuck me,” you breathed, and in one swift movement, he had spun your chair around with surprising ease to face him. He guided you out of your seat with his hand around your jaw, leading you into a passionate kiss before walking you back to the edge of the table. He lifted you up by the backs of your thighs and set you down on the table top, positioning himself between your legs. Your hands immediately sought out his belt buckle and began undoing it as he broke away from the kiss to lift his shirt up over his head.
Eddie groaned into your lips when he returned to them as you had slipped your hand into his jeans to feel his growing erection through his boxers. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, pushing it just over the top of your breasts where you had opted out of wearing a bra. He pulled back to stare down at your tits with his tongue between his teeth in an expression of pure lust. Your chest heaved with your heavy panting and Eddie couldn’t resist craning down to place his lips over your soft skin between your breasts. His tongue danced across your sternum, coming to a stop at the peak of your sensitive nipple and pulling it into his mouth.
You inhaled sharply as his hands squeezed your thighs, while his lips kissed from your chest to your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine and ending between your legs. Your knees clenched his hips while he worked on your neck, and you couldn’t stop your fingers from diving into his boxers and freeing his eager cock. His hips rutted into your hand at the contact, and his grip on your thighs tightened. You ran your delicate hand over his soft length, reveling in the intensity of his firmness, before giving him a few slow but deliberate pumps. Eddie bit down on the side if your neck sharply as you stroked him, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.
He thrust into your fist like an over excited puppy, leaving your hand slippery with his slick, and you cheekily added more pressure to the increased lubrication. He breathed deeply into your sweet blonde hair, eyes seeing stars as he fucked into your hand. His hands on your thighs moved inward between your legs, his thumbs coming to rest on either side of your soaked panties. With his fingers he slowly pulled down the hem of your lacy pink undergarment, politely coming to a rest at the base of your ass to ask permission to slip them the rest of the way down.
After he had thrown them onto the floor, he reached up to grasp his slick shaft, pumping himself a few time before lining himself up with your now exposed cunt. He didn’t waste any time letting you get adjusted to his size before pushing all the way in on one stroke. Your head fell back in blinding pleasure as he immediately began his harsh assault. Fuuuuck the way he just goes for it is so hot. Eddie looked down at the cute collar around your neck, smirking as he curled one finger underneath it to bring your lips to his.
“Did you wear this pretty pink thing for me, kitten?” Eddie cooed. You blinked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most adorably naughty expression you could muster. He grinned wickedly, licking his lips before abruptly pulling out his entire length and leaving you feeling empty. With one hand holding onto his belt, he reached his other hand on a shelf behind him, coming back to hook a dog’s leash onto your collar. Eddie could just picture you wagging an invisible tail as he leashed you, with your expression that of a hungry animal. He wrapped his fist with the end of the leash and tugged hard on your collar, guiding you down off the now slick table and onto your feet.
“Then get on your knees, pretty girl,” he growled as he directed you to kneel in front of him. You sat on your knees, face to face with his dripping tip. “And open your mouth.”
You did as you were told, with your tongue unfurling to allow him easy passage while Eddie reached in his back pocket to pull out his black bandana. He folded it into a blindfold and tied it around your head before pushing himself onto your outstretched tongue, guiding his tip down further into your mouth. Your pouty lips enveloped him as you guided him towards the back of your throat. He pulled back his hips slowly, concentrating hard on not losing control. You took on the task, bobbing your head back and forth while he focused on keeping his rutting to a minimum. Your tongue swirled around his flesh in rhythm to your head movements, causing a pleasured grunt to fall from his lips.
“Oh…that's it…good kitten,” Eddie groaned, his head falling back. His heavily ringed fingers tangled in your hair as you worked him over, bringing a small, manicured hand to grip his shaft just under your mouth and stroking him in sync. “That’s a good girl….fffuck!”
“Mmmmfff…” you whimpered around him in a pleased tone. You were his good girl.
“Hmm…okay kitten, I won’t last very long in that pretty little mouth of yours,” he breathed, pulling out of your dripping lips. He helped pull you to your feet kindly before roughly spinning you to face the table, making you stumble and have to grip the side to steady yourself. “And I reeeally want to pump your cunt full again.”
You stood with your back to him, bent over the D&D table and your soaked cunt on full display. Eddie had the head of his dick forcing its way through your entrance within no time, and he gave you no warm up time before launching right into his demanding pace. He was fucking into you with such an animalistic vigor, you would think he’d be the one who would want to be the pet. You felt like a common bitch just getting railed by one of the local strays, and it likely wouldn't even be your only partner that day. He held a fistful of your leash with one hand, while the other held a firm grip on your hip as he aimed your hips up onto him. It was a good thing you wore your high heels today.
You could never get enough of this primal mating display, 'degrading’ yourself as your dad would put it if he knew. You didn’t care if you even went home with drugs this time. If only you could bottle this moment so you could repeat it anytime you wanted. The light chokehold he had on you with the leash sent intoxicating waves through your head and your only thought was of how perfect his cock felt. He was so warm and firm, and he considerately angled his hips to hit your sweet spot. A complete lack of vision announced your orgasm, and you let it ride until you were squeezing him desperately.
“That's a good girl, kitten. Bein’ such a good slut, right?” Eddie muttered, his eyes half closed as he focused his willpower on controlling his release. You nodded enthusiastically, your blonde ponytail cascading across your shoulder blade. He pumped into you with deep, commanding thrusts that sent you into an overstimulated quiver. He licked his lips at the delicious sensation your trembling walls provided, eyes rolling back with the intense pleasure. Your poor cunt felt so used up already, but you still craved that consistent pounding. He knew he was getting dangerously close, but he was waiting for something.
And almost at that instant, he got what he was waiting for: a shocked and outraged face peering through the doorway of the prop room. Your boyfriend Jake had expressed concerns about where you kept going after school, and someone had hinted that this is where you might be, so he came looking for you to see what was going on. And now he knows. He knows how you’ve been getting taken balls deep by Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson right under his nose. In this very moment he realized that on the days you felt extra lubricated, he was probably actually getting Eddie's sloppy seconds?
Eddie was territorial, even with things that aren’t technically his, and he wanted Jake to see that he didn’t own you anymore. You belonged to Eddie now, and he was going to prove it after a few more euphoric strokes through your soft pussy. Your dumbfounded boyfriend stood paralyzed in the door way watching you get railed by that dirt bag, drug dealing freak. And you didn’t even see him come in with your blindfold, so you were being your absolute honest and unapologetic self. He watched you as you came around Eddie's cock again for—who knows how many times? You were coming undone in a way your boyfriend had never seen, and he was hypnotized.
“Fuck…I’m gonna cum in that pretty pussy, baby. Is that okay?” you nodded eagerly as Eddie rutted into you at a consistently sweet pace, readying himself for release. He sent a cocky stare at Jake, holding eye contact as he claimed you. He angled his pelvis up to fill your cunt to the very back so he could pump deep into your core. After a few more fast and deliberate thrusts, his hips began to stutter. His strokes became shorter and shorter until he buried himself in you, stilling at the hilt as his cock sputtered forward his first few pumps. When he settled deep into you, his thick ropes dumped excessively into your cunt, filling you up to the brim with his seed. Oh, god it shouldn’t feel this good. Eddie maintained steady eye contact with your boyfriend, even with drooped eyelids as he pumped your cunt full of his essence.
“That’s a good, dumb baby, taking my load so well,” Eddie smirked at Jake, his venomous words searing his ears. “Your cute little cunt can take a lot, huh, babydoll?”
At your shuddering whimper and vigorous nod with a helpless ‘Yes, Eddie!,’ your boyfriend came out of his daze, and was suddenly in a blind rage. He furiously flung open the door and stormed out, making you gasp and pull down your bandana.
“Oh, god. Jake!” you called after him, your clenching muscles adding a delectable pressure on Eddie’s sputtering cock and coaxing out a few more pumps. He kept you plugged up until he was sure he was done cumming, before gently pulling out of your sensitive flesh. He took your former blindfold and wiped himself clean before stuffing himself back into his boxers, taking his time in helping you down. Jake had stormed out into the hallway and was headed for the exit.
“Eddie, do something! He’s going to tell the whole school!” you shrieked, pulling your shirt down and climbing off the table. Eddie gazed at you with an amused expression still etched in his face as he zipped up his jeans, leaving his shirt forgotten and his belt unbuckled as he started walking backwards towards the door.
“Don't worry, baby. I’ve got it under control,” he said as he turned and jogged towards the exit, yanking open the door and running down the hallway after Jake. You stood against the table collecting yourself, too shaken up to move as all kinds of scenarios ran through your mind of your well known and respected boyfriend telling the whole school about you being raw-dogged by the school freak at his nerd club. Your musings were interrupted by the sound of Jake’s raised voice as Eddie clearly had caught up with him.
“What the fuck did you just say to me, freak?” he yelled, loud enough for you to hear plainly. You shifted your feet to clamor over to the door to see if you could catch a glimpse of the exchange, but Eddie's voice was too low to make out. You could see him facing away from you in a non-confrontational stance as he reasoned with your understandably furious boyfriend, and Eddie's fucked-out look of no shirt and unbuckled belt wasn’t helping his anger. You inched closer when you saw Jake’s expression suddenly go from murderous to fearful and wondered what the hell Eddie had said to him. It wasn't long after that that you saw your boyfriend turn on his heel and slam open the door to exit the school and Eddie turned to walk back to you.
“Eddie! Where is he going? What did you say to him? Is he going to tell anyone?” you were practically jumping up on Eddie like an excited puppy when he re-entered the room.
“Alright, baby, chill down. He won’t be saying a goddamn thing if he knows what's good for him,” he replied proudly, pulling you in to lay a kiss on the top of your head.
“How…? What did you do?” you asked as you gazed up at him with concern.
“Just some good, old-fashioned blackmail, sweetheart. I’ve got dirt on him. We're even,” he said darkly. You gave him a questioning stare when he didn't elaborate, and Eddie responded with a wicked smirk as he gripped the end of the leash still attached to your collar. “Just don’t worry about it right now, love. It's all taken care of. Let’s just say that I now own him, too.”
You couldn’t even begin to fathom what that meant. You just prayed that his dirt was good enough to keep your reputation as a good little girl in tact, all while you could feel Eddie's essence soaking through your panties. It would have to be pretty good dirt considering all of the vile, sinful things you’ve been doing with him in secret.
“Now…about this party. Do they need a drug man?”
#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things 4#eddie stranger things#rockstar eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#dom eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x female character#stranger things smut#hellfire stranger things#soft dom eddie munson#dom eddie munson x you#dom eddie munson x reader#mean dom eddie munson#dom!eddie munson#dom!eddie#eddie munson x you#eddie x reader#eddie my beloved#drug dealer Eddie Munson#DDD Eddie Munson#drug-dealer!Eddie Munson#eddie munson x female reader#st4#eddie munson is a sweetheart#eddie munson is hot#Dungeon Master Munson#Master Eddie Munson
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Did Gus actually order the hit on Tomas?
This is a question that I feel is basically impossible to answer definitively (I mean, unless there's an interview somewhere I missed). Either option is consistent with his character and makes sense with the plot, so it's really up to how you feel about it.
But if you twisted my arm....I think he did it, and here's why.
On the one hand, there's the idea that Gus is a more moral person than the other cartel bosses - something that Gus certainly believes about himself. Yes, he's brutal towards other people in the game, but he wouldn't harm an innocent child. That's the sort of thing the Salamancas would do, and he is not like them.
And there's plenty of evidence that Gus has a heart. He's a good boss to his restaurant employees. Yes, it's part of his disguise as a compassionate capitalist who is active in his local community, but I don't think that's entirely fair to Gus to say it's his only motive. I do think he wants the people who work for him to be treated fairly.
Then there's the people in Mexico he provides for, which is purely altruistic. He doesn't even want their admiration. He tells Mike that it's not to assuage his guilt, and I tend to believe him. "I am what I am," he says. He accepts his monstrous nature but is unwilling to spread indiscriminate violence the way that the truly evil Salamancas do. He emphatically tells Mike that he is NOT like them. This is something he truly believes - that while he may be a monster, he's still morally superior to the other cartel bosses.
But is that actually true? And does he really think he's a monster?
I always go back to the story of the coati. Gus was a starving child at the time so I don't judge him too harshly for it, but the fact that he remembers this story as a triumph over a foe really says a lot about his view of the world. An animal is not a moral agent who should be held responsible for stealing, but as an adult, Gus still thinks that the coati needed to pay for its crimes. It's easy to feel morally superior if you define anyone who is against you as evil and therefore deserving of retaliation, even a hungry animal.
I think it's also worth being skeptical about Gus's "I am what I am" sentiment, too. Gus accepts that he deals drug and commits violence, but I don't get a sense from him that he's excessively self-loathing, which is how he would feel if he truly believed he was a monster. Again, his opponents are the evil ones, but he has a soul, and his quest for revenge is righteous, unlike their motives, which are only based in greed - nevermind all of the money Gus rakes in and the fact that it was his original motive for going into the drug business in the first place. He's a really hard worker who looks after his employees (except when they get spotted at a murder scene and he's forced to cut their throats), unlike the Salamancas, who are just violent takers! He's better than them!
But of course, he isn't better, which was the entire point of the Nacho plot. He defined Nacho, without knowing him, as nothing more than an evil Salamanca goon. Abusing Nacho was not only justifiable, but also righteous in a way. But in fact, his treatment of Nacho was in no way justified. Neither was his execution of Werner. Gus, like every single other character in the brbabcs verse, is a hypocrite.
So back to Tomas - Gus really, really, REALLY hates loose ends. And although Tomas was a child, he was a child who agreed to shoot someone, so he's not really an innocent child. At least, that's how I can see Gus justifying it to himself. I also think that it's unlikely the dealers would act without Gus's approval, seeing as they were on thin ice with him. It's hard for me to believe that they would interrupt Gus's command of "no more kids" as "so kill the one you already have" unless Gus made that explicit.
But again, this one is completely up to interpretation. On the other hand, killing a child is not exactly discreet, so it's definitely possible that the dealers acted of their own volition.
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wait when did tom taylor make jason a cop?
So this is such a basic simple question which is why the response is going to be a nice 1.5k word long post like a normal reasonable person would do!
So Tom Taylor wrote the 2021 Nightwing Annual with Dick and Jason being all brother-y. Overall, it's pretty cute and I could totally nitpick* if I so desired but also bby robin jay and Discowing Dick as well as Adult Dick and Jason getting along, absolutely precious. Anyway, Tom Taylor didn't make Jason a cop but he still has Jason endorsing the Justice system.
He wrote Jason saying to Dick: "You were right. Sometimes seeing them get justice, Seeing their power and freedom get taken away, is better than dealing out violence." This is in relation to Jason sending one of his mom's main drug dealers to be tried.
In the context of looping, the statement isn’t 100% bad. It's supposed to loop back to Jason as a child, in the flashback scene of the annual, saying "you want to hit a kid? Hit me." in relation to a kidnapper and how dick says Jason went too far when dealing with the man.
The problem isn't Jason saying "[violence isn't always the answer]" but it's him trusting the system. Jason's foundations, even when his backstory was him as a blond circus boy, has him questioning the police and their actual motives. Jason staunchly believes that the system doesn't work. So him saying it's better seeing justice in a situation where he doesn't actually know if justice will be served properly is OOC. Jason knows that the rich can get off much easier due to money and the connections they may have. (circa lost days: that child sex trafficker that Jason murked because he found out bringing him to the authorities wouldn't do any good as the man had connections within the police that would keep him free). Jason is the kind of person who knows that vigilantes (in comics) only exist because the system does not work. One of his most major driving motivations is the fact that he understands intimately that most people do not care for victims. He gets deeply invested in cases because he knows what's it's like to be on the bottom and for the powerful above him to get of easier just because they have more power.
Jason calling Arkham a revolving door highlights his belief that no one is actually doing anything to help stop the violence in Gotham, but instead perpetuating a cycle. Fuck, in BftC, Jason criticizes Bruce for always teaming up with Jim Gordan and the police in B's search for "validation".
Jason has been heavily implied to be a victim of police brutality as a child. He has seen them do fuck things which readers can infer by Jason's first street rat appearance and how he doesn't trust cops. Furthermore, he believes the police and vigilantes should not mix because they are directly in opposition to each other. If the cops were "good" they would be trying to stop the bats because the bats are literal criminals taking action into their own hands, violently. So, even if we all understand that, for example, Gordan being on the side of the bats is morally good as he understands the system is broken and that the bats do good work, he is going against the legal system he is supposed to uphold to keep the collective safe. The legal system should not be your compass for morality as the legal system was created and always changing to, most usually, keep the powerful in power and the marginalized, marginalized. Alas, Jim still needs to uphold the law so he doesn't jeopardize having other officers following their personal morals over the law leading to what would probably lead to higher rates of police brutality. If the police partner with Batman and see Bruce being so violent towards perpetrators, and he's on their side, endorsing what they, as cops, do, that opens up the doorway to make it okay for cops to be as equally violent as the Bat towards people they take into custody. Jason is one of the vigilantes who understand this exemplified in his staunch avoidance of Cops
Future State on the other hand (which, for transparency, I never finished bc A. I'm terrible at finishing runs, whether they're ongoing (which is even harder for me then) or not, and B. It just wasn't really my cup of tea), DC had Jason undercover in the magistrate (i.e.the authoritarian police state enforcers) for Bruce....? (i heard some people say it wasn't actually Bruce but Clayface? idk. he was undercover for who he thought was Bruce) which was pretty obv he was undercover, yet, in the end, I'm pretty sure, Jason stays willingly in the magistrate to bring it down further? I'm not sure. I'm not sure, but that's where they made Jason a cop and, even if he was undercover, I couldn't bare to read it.
Literally one of my least favorite tropes: where the kid from the messy background who distrusted the system for good reason grows up and ends up joining the system. The only time I could except cop!Jason is that one fanfic where after B slits his throat so Jason joins the force and makes the bats obsolete by being the cop Park Rowians trusted while also still backgrounding as RH therefore he can be untouchable when he finally kills the Joker. I'll link it:
Best Served Cold 3k oneshot by Balrog_Roike
*This is where I'm going to nitpick for my own sense of peace. All in all, the annual isn't bad, personally, I liked it. It’s only if you think about it too much and dwell over it all. But the subtleties are where the biases are able to sneak in so this is like way to much for like 6 panels total....
Jason being mad at the kidnapper isn't bad nor do I think Jason getting so violent with someone for hitting children is OOC(actually Jason getting in between beatings for others is a very common theme of Jason's. Not just defusing, but legit just taking the beatings so someone else doesn't have to). It actually falls in line with OG Jason slamming that pimp for hitting a woman in broad daylight and him saying "How do you like being on the receiving end, for a change?!" compared to "Hit me. Go on. Hit me!" Both situations are Jason pissed the hell off that people think they can just push around others weaker than them. I just really want a modern story with a happy Jason. Like, we get it. In situations like this, Jason gets super emotionally invested, but I think DC has ingrained in the audience enough that Jason is angry over the concept of injustice. I see enough "Jason was the angry robin" takes. I just want my baby to be sweet for me!!! If every story we get of Robin Jason is him being angry, whether he's in the "right" or "not", it's just further pushing the idea that he was angry over everything all the time if that's all we see, and he wasn't.
As with most every story with Jason and the other bats, there's always that underlying theme of Jason "giving up" for the other bats and him being rewarded with being allowed to be family with the rest of them because he finally fell into Bruce and their's wishes. It's super subtle but with the "Bruce and I are proud of you for putting down the guns" and the "you were right..." Idk. it's just can be read as a ‘you're doing stuff how we want you to rather than how you want to’ superiority complex thing. It's 'i understand everything I did and thought was actually wrong, but now I see the light.' But the 'i'm proud you're doing what I want" pothole is kinda inescapable when writing Jason with the other bats
The crowbar joke goes without saying. Again, Jason never gets to properly address his murder but everyone gets to poke fun at him for it. I just wish one bat cared enough to ask Jason if he's okay rather than also beating him down about it. It comes across tackless.
When other bats call adult Jason “robin”, it rubs me wrong. Like in WFA, Jason's tracker symbol is apparently his robin symbol. It just seems like a lack of acceptance that Jason is alive again and now is the red hood. In the annual, if it’s supposed to be Dick having a minor flashback to when Jason was robin, I think that’s fair (for example: if Bruce saw Jason hurt and called him “robin” bc he was reminded of dead!Jay I wouldn’t fault him either, PTSD and memories and all that). On the flip side, if Dick is trying to get Jason to stop, the effect comes across as disrespectful to Jason's actual existence now by constantly relaying him back to what he used to be. Living in the past and all that with no ounce of respect present Jason. Some people think it's cute, all the power to them, it just rubs me wrong. I just mention this cause to me it seems like just Dick trying to get Jason to stop, but it’s unclear by Jason’s body language if he’s shocked out of the moment(it doesn’t look like he was).
Again: Those four things are pretty nitpicky in, overall, a story I liked. Especially compared to my main issue, the justice system thing. T.Taylor’s has a habit of being super performative in his social commentary(think how people think that can write a character as a man or white person and then just switch the pronouns or descriptions like that doesn't completely change the character’s outlook on life). 99% of the time he has super shallow takes that are incredibly harmful and tries to use characters as mouthpieces rather than following through on already established beliefs(i.e. Jason not trusting nor liking cops).
The annual's art is so goddamn pretty. I can't stress enough how much I love the composition and inking. We get pretty Dick and pretty Jason, we get flippy Jason, we get shirtless Jason. We get both bby and discowing as well as adult Dick and Jason getting along, have fun, smiling and laughing and cracking jokes. We get Dick trusting Jason. Their relationship doesn’t come across as fan-servicing which T.T also has a problem with so I’ve heard in the current run of Nightwing.
Ya, anyway...Big brother Dick grayson and Baby brother Jason Todd soothed my soul at least
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About Viper the Rapper...
On the day the incident was brought to light, my only actions were to private the 2 Viper-related lists of my profile and post a "review" on the You'll Cowards page that only linked to the album page of "Kill Yr Idols" by Sonic Youth. While it may look immature in light of the seriousness of the event (and on the same day I made a joke in a discord server comparing this incident with Ye's Infowars incident, and a good friend pointed out my ignorance and immaturity to do so), the way I can explain myself is that I was speechless and without a reaction to seeing something of this gravity happening and involving a person I hold on great regards, so I just let my brain work in automatic mode and do my usual shitpost shtick.
Now that I had time to think about this, I have some things to say. First off, you may ask why I used to hold Viper in high regard, well, I say that Viper "inspired me", not to be a crack dealer, but partly inspired my aspirations towards music as a whole.
You see, a great appeal that musicians like this guy, Lil B, and Purrp have is the deconstruction of the concept of "talent" and "effort" that has infected hip-hop music since the 80s, the idea that your hip-hop song is only valuable if you are a "talented" rapper or producer and took the intense effort to make a said song, these rappers deconstruct this concept, Viper with his simplistic drumless sample-heavy beats and dumb stream of consciousness lyrics used to create a unique atmosphere and personality to his music that was just iconic. This fact and the admiration of Viper's music was to me a sort of message that music isn't supposed to be something you sweat on, sometimes you can just freestyle on a beat and create a masterpiece, art is not a job.
By this fact, I can say that I was, a "fan" of this dude, as much this statement may sound ludicrous to a lot of people I know that my reasons to be a fan of his aren't unique and a lot of other people had similar experiences with other artists of this same scene.
The reaction towards the incident in question shed light on how the internet is when regarding "lolcows". When a person who is regarded as a meme does something reprehensible, there is always the "I told you so" crowd that always backs up the reason why they always knew the person would do something like this by bigotry (ex: people using Chris Chan to spread anti-trans propaganda) and the other crowd that are nihilists on the purest sense of the world and just make fun of it. With Viper it was no different, with people wishing he was sexually abused in prison, saying that they expected it from him because he was a drug user and in the worst-case scenario, just plain racism.
Well, I have to say first that blaming his actions on the use of crack is very dangerous since it has its origins in the war on drugs propaganda that endangered innocent drug addicts, blaming it on his mental health is even worse since this is also used to marginalize mentally ill people from society, prevent them from getting treatment and increasing the risk of violence against them (the stereotype being also refuted by science)
There is no scapegoat to blame on, not drugs, not mental health, it's Viper, it's his actions and situations where real people were harmed in the process is not something you are supposed to joke about like I did and a lot of others did and are doing right now. It's immature at best and plain evil at worst, you wouldn't be making those jokes if the woman he hurt was a member of your family or your friend, would you? Of course not, so think about the victim of his actions first before writing a shitty joke about it, it's not funny and it gets old quickly. This isn't bullshit moralism on my part, it's just plain common sense and empathy, the latter being something missing from internet culture as a whole.
#stoneflower's pseudo journaling#stoneflower writing#hip hop#underground hip hop#cloud rap#viper the rapper#cw ableism#cw abuse
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Who do you think has committed more crimes between Yata and Fushimi?
At last, someone is asking the real questions XD I think the first question here is really how do we define a ‘crime,’ like is it really a crime if it’s illegal but your doting boss works for the government and gives you carte blanche to do whatever you want. On that end I’m definitely leaning more towards Fushimi here even though he’s the adult with the proper government job and Yata’s the gang member, I just feel like the spirit is more willing in Fushimi. Like Yata wants to be a hardcore delinquent but I feel like deep down he’s a good kid and the idea of, like, shoplifting makes him feel all nervous inside. He’s fine with breaking the law if it involves beating up people who are worse, like he doesn’t mind breaking into bad guy’s houses or beating up drug dealers or similar things, he’ll trespass and stuff if it’s part of a dispute Homra is handling but he’s not going to do anything illegal just for the sake of it.
Fushimi on the other hand strikes me as someone who is of the opinion that laws are things that happen to other people. Like he definitely committed more crimes as a kid I think — going back to the shoplifting idea, I think middle school Yata would never shoplift because that’s wrong and his mom would kick his ass if she found out, while Fushimi absolutely would just snatch a candy bar on his way out of the convenience store even though he’s perfectly capable of paying for it. Fushimi’s also much more willing to do whatever it takes to complete a mission he’s given and doesn’t seem like he cares about whether it’s legal or not. Like for another comparison, look at Ashinaka in S1, Yata scares some guys into giving him a PDA — he doesn’t even throw any actual punches — and then walks around just asking people for information. Fushimi by contrast does get inside the school properly with his S4 credentials but then straight up chloroforms a student (why does he have chloroform? Because, that’s why) and illegally hacks into the school’s mainframe before spotting Yata and goading him into committing property damage. Fushimi has absolutely committed more crimes on paper, it’s just he has government authority for those now so he doesn’t get in trouble for it.
(Basically, on the sliding scale of Yata and Fushimi’s moral compasses: imagine there’s a small shop owned by a sweet little old lady who may have information on something Homra needs. Yata, if asked to break in, would probably waver and want to talk to the little old lady when the store is open if possible. If the shop is owned and run by a gang of drug dealers though, then he’ll break in and beat up whoever he needs to beat up for information without pause even if it is technically illegal to do so. Fushimi meanwhile I think breaks in regardless of whether it’s run by a sweet old lady or a gang of drug dealers, the owner is just a difference of who does he try not to wake or treat slightly more gently vs who just gets knifed no questions asked.)
#Fushimi Saruhiko#Yata Misaki#Talking K#I feel like Yata wants to be a delinquent but really he won't do anything too bad#unless it's like for the purpose of beating up bad guys#whereas Fushimi just doesn't care#he does what he wants and if it's illegal oh well#especially now that he's in S4 if it's illegal he'll just tell Munakata and Munakata will find a loophole that makes it legal#Fushimi is absolutely be gay do crimes
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Your werecreature au has been on my mind, so I figured I’d let you know that these guys have been fully developed! They were only really speculated about by me, but after that, I didn’t want to miss the chance of making some established characters in this universe. Enjoy!
⭐️The Rockstars⭐️
General Information
They were originally meant to serve as backups to more popular predecessors. Over time, as the other bands split off or dwindled, they finally became relevant.
Could they even call themselves a band? They were just a group of young weres in a desperate situation. They’d all claim they bonded against their wills, but they lie.
When each of them realized they were getting more than they signed up for, they all tried to run. Unfortunately, most didn’t find any hope of escape…
Some of their species may not line up with the famous characters they were meant to resemble. However, they are just similar enough to work.
Rockstar Freddy
Age: 19
Bitten at: 18
Species: Spectacled Bear
He was an ambitious young entrepreneur who was left broke and desperate when his ideas got rejected. Then he received an undeniable offer…
It looked like volunteering for a study on the surface, which was easy money in his book. Next thing he knew, he was a were, and had to adjust to his new life.
Despite being the youngest and least experienced, he is the self proclaimed leader of the band. The others really only let him have that title to make him feel better.
Rockstar Chica
Age: 30
Bitten at: 24
Species: Buff Brahma
When she was human, she was a ring girl in an underground fighting ring, but also served as the referee. She had taken down weres twice her size with ease for years.
Being bitten always had an appeal to her, as a way to take her MMA skills to the next level. The transformation only made her bigger, stronger, and deadlier.
She’s a kind soul, but that comes out as fierce protectiveness. If you mess with those she cares about, there’s very little besides death that can save you.
Rockstar Bonnie
Age: 27
Bitten at: 22
Species: Blacktailed Jackrabbit
He used to be the young underboss of a coveted criminal organization, until they convinced him to undergo a test to prove himself worthy, which left him like this.
While he loves his vintage music, the cheap guitars are also good for bashing in skulls. He is careless with these guitars, knowing his real gem is safely tucked in its case.
This is one of those people who believes he was born in the wrong decade. He’s a total Greaser style wise, and has the New Yorker accent to fit.
Rockstar Foxy
Age: 28
Bitten at: 25
Species: Maned Wolf
As a man, he was a drug dealer in the black market, known for his lax attitude and lack of affiliation. When he got roped into a bad deal, he met the same fate as the others.
He’s taught his green macaw named First Mate all sorts of tricks to steal, spy, and infiltrate. The two have never gotten caught, and are thick as thieves…literally.
Determined to keep following his own moral compass, he secretly goes against orders if they don’t align with his values. Nobody can tell him what to do.
Lefty
Age: 22
Bitten at: ???
Species: Sun Bear
They were bitten young, and tried to escape whenever they could. They ended up losing their right eye while transforming due to lack of access to medical care.
The moment they finally managed to get out after so many attempts, they didn’t look back…until they heard more people were falling victim to this scheme…
All they are to the rest of the band is a mysterious whispering voice on the other end of a phone. Shrouded in secrecy, they try to help from the outside.
I'll edit this later with my own HCs later-
Posting earlier for ya @my-makeshift-masquerade
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Thoughts about Red Hood
Okay something that really bothers me about utrh is that Jason is supposed to be a foil to the flaws of Bruce’s moral code (no killing blablabla). We see him kill a lot of bad guys along the way, pissing off the russian mafia, random guys, etc etc and just disrupting the criminal underworld in general which in the narrative is cool, Jason wouldn’t be such a compelling character if he was framed as a bad guy and it wouldn’t make sense with his background as a Robin either for him to be outright bad
Jason says it over and over, that he’s willing to do what Bruce is not, and that’s using violence and fear as a tool to fight criminals. And I think it’s a great that this is the conclusion he reaches, he was killed by one of the worst criminals of Gotham and suffered the consequences of something that “could have” been solved a long time ago if Bruce had killed the Joker in the past, in this regard I think Jason is both the consequence of Bruce’s moral code as well as the “solution”, if u can call it that.
The thing that utrh and other red hood comics I’ve skimmed fails to address is the downside of Jason’s violent methods against criminals
more often than not jason simply keeps killing or just leaves killing behind, but there’s no logical train of thought to his redemption in the last case. I’ve seen a lot of people complain about this, and about how Jason should have stayed a villain, but I don’t think the redemption itself is the issue, it’s just how it’s handled, aka poorly
utrh establishes that jason’s methods, although not of bruce’s taste (and let’s admit it he looks a little deranged with the sadistic side he shows sometimes), make sure that, even if not completely wiped out, drug dealers don’t sell to kids or other vulnerable people. that’s good, it’s why jason is an antihero, not a villain. Low level criminals don’t stir shit up and he controls the worst side of the harm they can do with an iron fist, he isn’t a violent, crazy maniac that resorts to violence without reason
red hood may now rule the criminal underworld, yes, half of them are also out for his head, also true, but he’s been skillful enough not to get in harm’s way and we’ve seen jason avoid danger with careful preparation (at times, others not) so readers don’t exactly need to worry about his wellbeing
my point then, is how red hood becoming a symbol affects the gotham he lives to protect
with time red hood becomes as a well known vigilante as batman, he’s efficient, he’s smart, he gets the job done, and for such a crime filled city like gotham, you can only be grateful for that, but then maybe those kids he protect start admiring the red hood, maybe they look up to him, how tough he is, how he takes down criminals where batman can’t. jason doesn’t care enough about himself to worry about becoming a blood thirsty killer, but what happens when others he was supposed to protect do?
suddenly you have a bunch of kids taking up guns and fighting back against criminals, violence works, let’s use it, and it’s not just how many of those delusional kids will die in an explosion or because of sticking their noses where they shouldn’t have, but also between each other, and then you end up with the entire city engulfed in a war of guns with both kids and criminals dying left and right, and you can’t tell the difference
I think Red Hood’s ideals are great, they are interesting, they seem like the perfect solution to Batman’s passivity
Until it isn’t
And it’s one thing to die yourself, but it’s another one entirely to have others die because of you
#kore talks to the wall#thinking thinking i love comics so much but god is the narrative in utrh boring#i wished they had given more nuance to everything because even though there are some very good and fun things in it#like black mask and stuff and batman's fight with red hood#it fails to nuance jason's side of the conflict (because batman's already is with jason's death) so they're not on equal ground#it also fails to tackle why jason is nuanced outside of he kills he's crazy#batman#red hood#under the red hood#these are just my silly thoughts don't mind me#long post#yeah#jason todd
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