#and I say this as someone who used to be pro life

[wonderl3ss]

Fantasize

Pairing: pro hero!Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader

Warnings: (not proofread) SMUT! Praise, degradation, pet names, (baby, slut) unprotected p in v, use of y/n, not exactly cheating but he breaks up w his gf for reader; homewrecker reader.

A/n: I absolutely in no way condone cheating or going after someone in a relationship; everything I write is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only — It does not reflect any of my personal preferences. That being said, this is, once again, inspired by an Ariana Grande song.

Katsuki Bakugo was not a stranger to you, nor were you to him. Infact, you’d been decently close friends since UA. You’d never harboured any sort of romantic feelings for him back then as he was too immature for your liking. Now, however, he’s different, he’s grown.

Not just mentally, but physically too. He’s huge; 6’2 and pure muscle. He’s matured into the number 3 pro-hero. Everyone wants a piece of him, but, unfortunately only one person is lucky enough — his girlfriend.

You’re jealous of her. It should be you getting manhandled and fucked dumb by him, not her.

These feelings didn’t happen until a few weeks ago when he was on some talkshow being interviewed. He looked incredible. He was wearing this tight, black shirt that left nothing to the imagination. You could see every single dip and bump of muscle. It had your pussy throbbing.

Until the interviewer asked him about his love life and he’d confirmed he was taken. There was something about the fact he was unavailable that made you want him twice as much. No, you needed him. And you’d do whatever it took to make him yours. Whether his girlfriend knew or not, you didn’t care.

Currently, you, Mina, Eijirou, Denki, Hanta and of course, Katsuki and his girlfriend, are at some bar in the middle of town getting drinks and catching up.

You’re all a little tipsy and [un]lucky for you, the alcohol has gone straight to your pussy. It also doesn’t help that Katsuki looks insanely good. He’s not wearing anything fancy or inherently sexy, just a regular black t-shirt and some slightly baggy jeans. But, to you (and your pussy) he looks incredible.

He’s at the bar talking to Eijirou, with his girlfriend stood at his side and a beer in his hand. You’re sat at a booth with Mina, she’s chatting about something but you’re not listening. All your attention is on said blond.

Mina has no idea about your infatuation with Katsuki, but she’s bound to know after tonight. The way you’re looking at him isn’t hiding anything. She knows that look. She knows you.

“He’s taken, ya’know,” she says. This catches your attention; you know who she’s talking about.

“I know,” you simply reply. What else is there to say? She doesn’t need to know your plan, atleast, not yet.

“So why’re you looking at him like you’re a predator and he’s the prey? You’re not seriously gonna go after a taken man, are you?” She knows you can and will.

You just look at her, the expression on your face saying ‘he won’t be taken when I get him.’ Mina just shakes her head.

“Where’d this come from, anyway? This sudden want for Katsuki?” She takes a sip from her cocktail, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “But I’m gonna get what I want… I always do.” You look away, closing your eyes as you finish up the rest of your own drink.

Mina just laughs. You both know what you’re doing is wrong but neither of you care. Mina won’t say it but she never really liked Katsukis girlfriend anyway, so she couldn’t care less if you break them up.

You look back over and Katsuki and he’s on his own. You guess his girlfriend’s in the bathroom and Eijirou is talking to Denki or Hanta. You stand and nod your head toward the bar where Katsuki stands as if to say to Mina ‘I’m gonna get another drink (and my man.)’

Mina smiles and stands too, but makes her way toward whenever Eijirou is.

You get to the bar and order yourself another drink.

“Want one?” You ask Katsuki, “my treat,” you smile.

His answer is short and sweet, a simple, “sure.”

So you order him another beer; you know which one is his favourite.

“You know, I could be a lot better than her,” you’re not subtle with what you’re doing. You know what you want and you’re going to get what you want, there’s no point in beating around the bush.

At first, he’s taken aback by your words. He wasn’t expecting this from you, however, he can’t say he’s disappointed. You’re attractive, and he’s not going to deny that he’s thought about you in a sexual aspect before. He just wasn’t expecting you to have thought the same about him. Despite the fact his girlfriend is all but a few steps away, he decides to flirt back.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?

“Oh, really?” Your drinks arrive and he takes a swig. “I don’t know… I think she’s already good enough,”

You take a swig of your own drink, it burning slightly as it goes down your throat, but it only makes the fire in you hotter.

“Guess I’ll just have to show you sometime. I can offer a lot more than she can, in more ways than one,” you smirk at him, finally making eye contact.

He just lets out an ‘mhm’ while returning the smirk. You can sense a fire in his eyes. He’s actually thinking about it.

You peer over his shoulder and see his girlfriend is making her way back over. You take this as your cue to leave and go find Mina, you give him a wink, making sure his girlfriend doesn’t see — not that you care if she does.

You spend the rest of the night talking to Denki and Hanta, occasionally looking at Katsuki only to find he’s already staring at you from over his drink.

A few weeks later, a tonne more days of flirting and you know you’re so close to getting what you want. Just one more day and it’ll be yours, you can feel it.

A little birdie told you (Denki, ever the gossip) that Katsuki and his girlfriend have been going through what can only be described as a ‘rough patch’. Supposedly, he’s not been paying her as much attention as before. He’s distracted.

Now, all you need is the confirmation that they’ve officially broken up.

And it doesn’t take long.

It’s time for one of your weekly meet-ups, and lucky for you it’s at your place this week. You’ve got Katsuki right where you want him.

Everyone has turned up already, except for him.

You’re sat around your coffee table, laughing and sharing anecdotes about your week when he finally arrives. Alone.

Eijirou, his best friend, is the first to speak up about this. It’s not any secret within your group that somethings going on between Katsuki and his significant other, but nothings actually been said out loud about it, until now.

“Hey, man! Nice’a ya’ to join us, your girl not coming?”

“Nah, we broke up,” BINGO. The one thing you’ve wanted so insanely bad has finally fallen right into your hands. He’s yours.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Eijirou rubs the back on his neck, afraid he’s now made it awkward.

“It’s cool, don’t worry about it.” Katsuki shrugs and makes his way toward where you’re all sat, and he sits down right next to Eijirou, which also just so happens to be opposite you. You stare at eachother; you both know what’s going to happen after everyone leaves.

The night continues on and you and Katsuki have been giving eachother ‘fuck me’ eyes. You’re sure everybody’s noticed, but neither of you care.

Finally, the night comes to a close and everyone is beginning to leave. You’ve waved Denki and Hanta goodbye already and are chatting to Mina as Eijirou announces that he’s heading home. You all give him your goodbyes and now it’s just you, Katsuki and Mina left.

“Go get your man.” Mina leans in to whisper toward you. She turns away and gathers up her stuff, giving you one last wink and a smile before also leaving.

The second Katsuki hears the door shut he walks over to you, you look up at him and he speaks, “gonna show me now?” He’s referring to what you said back at the bar a month ago.

His hands find your hips and yours reach up to wrap around his neck; you’re so close you can feel his breath on your face. You smile, then waste no time in clashing your lips together.

The kiss is heated and rushed and Katsuki ends up backing you into a wall, this eliciting a small noise from the back of your throat akin to that of a moan.

His hands slide lower, down to your ass as he lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his hips and the friction between you becomes unbearable. He’s pressed so close to you that you can feel his boner growing right on your clit.

He breaks away from the kiss only for his mouth to latch onto your neck, sucking a bruise there. You moan and attempt to grind yourself down onto him. You need him inside you, now.

“Kats… bedroom,” you mutter breathlessly. You don’t have to tell him twice before he’s carrying you into your room and throwing you onto the bed, and hovering over you.

“Been thinking about this for so long,” he whispers before kissing you once again. You don’t think you’ve ever had anyone kiss you this good before.

He begins to unbuckle his belt and you sit up on your elbows to watch. The second his jeans fall onto the floor your eyes are on his boner. The thin fabric of his boxers doing nothing to hide it. He’s huge.

Then, he’s prying your legs apart and standing between them. His hands find the bottom of your shirt and usher you to take it off. You do exactly that. His own shirt follows yours right after.

“Need you so bad,” you all but moan as you look up at him, and he swears there’s lust in your eyes.

“Yeah? Need this dick so bad, huh? ‘S all yours, baby,” and with that your own jeans are joining his on the floor, leaving you both in just your underwear.

There’s no hiding the little wet spot that’s pooled in your underwear, and Katsuki notices.

“This wet for me already? I’ve not even touched you yet. Fuck,” he bites his lip and reaches round to undo your bra. His lips attach back to yours as your bra is then slid down your arms and thrown god knows where onto the floor.

His hand slides down to your clit and presses a finger to your clit, rubbing little circles onto it over your underwear, your head is thrown back and a moan leaves your throat.

Your pleasure is short-lived, though, as he removes it to grab ahold of your hips and pull you forward toward where he’s stood at the edge of the bed.

He leaves a trail of kisses down the middle of your breasts as he pulls your underwear down your thighs. The gusset sticks just a little, showcasing just how wet you are for him.

He’s honestly never been so turned on in his life; cannot believe this is what he’s been missing out on.

He steps back just an inch to begin taking off his own boxers, and you’re already missing the heat from his body.

You’re both completely naked now. Your pussy feels like it has its own heartbeat and if he doesn’t get inside you without the best few seconds, you feel you’re going to explode.

“Need you inside, Katsuki,” you plead, looking into his eyes. You’ve been waiting over a month for this, there is no way you’re waiting any longer, even if just a few seconds.

“Want me to fuck you like the slut you are, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s tapping the head of his cock on your clit. He drags it down to your entrance and gathers up your slick before beginning to push the tip in.

Your arms give way and you fall onto your back. He’s only put the tip in but you can already feel the stretch. He’s bigger than any man you’ve had before, and fuck, you cannot believe he’d been giving this to her.

You don’t have to worry about that now, because he’s right here. Right where you wanted him. And he’s going to fuck you dumb just like you’ve wished for.

You shut your eyes as you feel him push himself all the way in, you both simultaneously let out a moan. You, because he’s so big, and him, because you’re so tight.

His head finds the crook of your neck and rests there as he pulls back out, not all the way, before slamming back in.

You can feel — hear — his breaths getting deeper as he begins to thrust into you. It’s a slow pace; he’s allowing you to adjust to his size.

“Already so much better,” he mumbles into your neck, leaving a soft kiss there before lifting his head and looking at your blissed out face, “couldn’t think of anything but you for the past month. Every time I fucked her, I couldn’t help but wish it was you,”

And that’s exactly what you wanted to hear. Another moan leaves your throat while your nails are digging and scratching up and down his back.

“Katsuki, please just shut up and fuck me.” Your legs wrap around his waist, your heels pressing into his back along with your fingernails.

“Don’t worry, baby, gonna fuck this slutty lil’ pussy till you can’t walk.” He takes a finger and starts circling it on your clit, pounding into you at a pace you’re unable to keep up with.

He can feel your pussy clenching around him, can tell you’re close. His eyes leave yours as he glances down to where you’re joined together and there’s a ring around the base of his cock where his pre-cum has mixed with your juices. Fuck, he’s getting close too.

“Shit… gonna cum,” you’re just able to stutter out.

“Doing so good for me, baby. C’mon, cum on my cock,” and the praise is all you need, the switch in you flipping and you’re gushing around his cock.

His mouth meets yours for one last sloppy kiss while he fucks you though your orgasm, overstimulation already settling in.

“Where?” He asks, but you’re unsure of what exactly he’s asking. He truly has fucked you dumb and he’s not even done that much.

He can tell by the look on your face your overstimulated and confused, so he elaborates, “gonna cum… where?” And you finally understand.

“Inside! Fuck… inside, Katsuki!” One last thrust and he’s letting out a breathless groan before you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up.

He stays inside for just a moment while you both catch your breaths. A slight squelch and a moan is heard from you as he finally pulls out. He stands back and admires his handiwork, smiling at your face — your eyes are closed, mouth is hanging open and your hair is clinging to your forehead from the sweat. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous.

Your eyes open and slowly meet his. You smile back at him, a blush rising to your cheeks. How is it that you’re getting flustered now?

He hovers back over you, leans down and presses a small kiss to your lips. “You’re mine, you hear me? All mine. Ain’t no way I’m letting you leave after that,” the quiet chuckle he gives after saying this is one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard. You’ve never been happier getting what you want.

You nod. “Yeah… yours,” too tired and fucked-out to form a proper sentence. You feel him begin to lift you from the bed and help you walk to the bathroom, probably to clean you up, but what happens after that is all a blurred memory.

You wanted him to fuck you dumb, and fuck you dumb is what he did.

Another month passes and you’ve both made it official to the others. Katsuki is now officially, yours, and you his. Mina was the first to know, of course, you had messaged her the morning after.

You’re with Katsuki in the back of a limousine. You’re wearing a fancy, low-cut, tight, red dress with a slit down one of the legs, while Katsuki is in a marching red and black suit. He looks incredible — even better than he did in that interview when you first fell for him.

The limousine comes to a stop and the door is then opening. Katsuki exists first, holding a hand out for you to grab onto as you exit right behind him. There are cameras flashing from every angle.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been out in public with Katsuki, there have been other paparazzi pictures of you, but it’s the first time you’ve been in public with the intention of letting everyone know you’re a couple.

As he walks down the carpet with you, there are questions being shouting at you both, left right and centre, but only one specific question catches your attention, “y/n! What do you have to say about the rumours of you being a homewrecker?”

“I could never do anything like that. I mean, I would, but, I’m just too nice, and too hot.” is the only thing you reply before turning your attention back to Katsuki, a smirk on your face.

You’ve got what you want now, who cares how you got it?

[amysubmits]

“you know why some men are so full of shit? because the world has failed them.” yeah … this is bullshit, and honestly pretty insulting to “good” men, many of whom have been dealt a shitty lot in life, who aren’t toxic or abusive. some men are full of shit because it benefits them to be full of shit. if your reaction to having a shitty life is to become sexist (or racist, or homophobic, etc) you’re a bad person.

a world in which 91% of heads of state (and 92% of CEOs, and 72% of industry leaders) are male has not “failed men.” a world in which men own 50% more wealth than women, while women do 300% more unpaid labor than men, has not “failed men.” a world in which 50 countries allow men to legally rape their wives has not “failed men.”

Having privilege in one area doesn't exclude you from being failed in other areas. Look at the suicide rate, the shorter life expectancy, etc.

The fact that there are men who have had shitty lives who don't become racist or sexist doesn't mean that other men weren't failed by the individual people in their lives or society at large.

If one woman experienced trauma and didn't become a drug addict, that doesn't mean her sister who is a drug addict didn't become an addict because of their shared childhood trauma. That's really simplified black and white thinking to say if I turned out okay,they're just choosing to be an addict! Mental health and coping methods are so much more complex than that. Everyone who goes through trauma is just trying to survive as best as their brain and nervous system know how. Some of us end up with coping methods that are seen as pro-social and "good", and others end up with default trauma responses and coping methods that get labeled as "bad". Both are harmful in different ways. And I'm speaking as someone with a lifelong "good girl" coping method.

There are endless factors in how people turn out. As one simplified example, if a boy had abusive and neglectful parents who publicly claimed to be feminists, and then the first person in that kids life who REALLY made them feel cared for, seen, supported, encouraged was sexist? That kid is a lot more likely to grow up sexist than another kid who also had a traumatic childhood but didn't see examples of people being good to them personally who had shitty views. It's just bad logic to say if some men live under patriarchy and become feminist, then the sexist guys are just inherently shitty people...

I'm not trying to say we should look fondly at sexist people. Of course not. But if you really think that there are widespread problems in men and that those things aren't caused by a systemic failure in some way, then you're arguing that a larger portion of men are just born inherently 'bad' somehow compared to women. Believing that a group of people is just somehow inherently bad or lesser is damn near the definition of prejudice.

[theamazingannie]

What really confuses me about a lot of pro life people is that they just genuinely seem to think pro choice people are monsters. What’s more likely, that a whole bunch of people just love killing babies left and right for no reason at all other than their own enjoyment, or that a whole bunch of people think that everyone should get a choice in whether or not they become parents and shouldn’t be forced to be an incubator for nine months and have their body forever altered and potentially be at risk for longterm health issues and even death and then have to either raise that child to adulthood despite not wanting to or being in any way ready for it or send it through the adoption system where the child will grow up wondering why their birth parents didn’t want them all because someone else valued the “life” of an undeveloped clump of cells over the life of a fully grown person with wants and fears and feelings?

[hopeswriting]

imagine you're luce, and you're born the heir to a mafia family. you're mafia-born, and so of course also mafia-raised, and then also a donna-to-be. you're raised to be able to take on the role, to be good and capable at it, are taught to make one of your core beliefs about how the many must come before the few, because the family must always come first. you're going to be the donna, of course you must always prioritize the family above all else, it's your foremost and most important duty.

if caring about the few too comes at the price of the many, comes at the price of the family, is it even worth it? if the happiness gained from it comes at the price of a greater suffering for others, is there even any meaning to it, even if it's your happiness we're talking about? you understand, don't you?

you're not sure if you do, but you care about your family, love it, want to do right by it once you become their donna, so you nod, listen and learn.

(you don't have to be taught the pain and loss and guilt and anger and bitterness is a fair price to pay for the pain you decide has to be inflicted and the sacrifices you decide must be made, including by yourself. it's the least you could do, even.)

imagine you're luce, and the gift of foresight runs through your blood.

you would not call it a gift. you did not ask for it either. and you'll never come to see it as something wanted by you.

you can see the future, and it happened exactly as you saw it would, so of course it's exactly the way you wanted it to go. you can see the future, and it happened exactly as you saw it would, so of course you didn't care to try hard enough to change it. you saw the future before the shape of it had yet to be breathed into existence, and who's to say it didn't come into existence only because you saw it happen? you saw the future, and it happened worse than it had to for it.

you can see the future, but you still can't make it anything else than what it was always going to be. you can even make the visions happen at your will, but you still have no say on what you see or how much you see. you still can only be the witness of it before anyone else can.

it does mean double and longer the happiness sometimes, means relief and gratefulness and hope beyond words, and it'd be cruel of you to voice out loud your feelings for others to hear the many more times it means something else.

you can see the future, and it doesn't make it any kinder on you than on anyone else, does not give you any more power or control over it than anyone else, but at least you can see the future. you're given the time to make peace with it, to brace yourself for it, to bargain with it, to plead and beg and fight against it however desperately and hopelessly, even if in the end it still happens exactly as you saw it would.

(you can see the future, and it still doesn't hurt you any less than anyone else when it happens, but you don't expect anymore for anyone to hold you any less responsible for it anyway. it would be nice for someone to do it one day, but you understand.)

you can see the future, and you decide it's a kindness to both yourself and others to keep it for yourself as much as possible whenever you can.

imagine you're luce, and your family has this set of rings they've looked after and protected for as long as your family has existed. they're one set of three of the most important artifacts in the world, ones that help in safeguarding its existence and balance. they're duty, the very first one and the most important one your family was created for.

the pacifier around your mother's neck is duty too, and the most important and powerful artifact among twenty-one in safeguarding the world and its balance. it's been passed down in your family too, from mother to daughter. it's duty, but less tied to your family and much more to the blood running through your veins. it's a curse, in fact, as it demands heavy sacrifices the rings don't, and one that can only be tied to the blood running through your veins.

(your mother looks at you as if expecting some kind of reaction from you, and you can only wonder at which point you weren't supposed to see it as a given. duty and sacrifices have been one and the same for you for a long time now. is it even duty if it doesn't require any sacrifices from you?)

imagine you're luce, and your mother dies for duty. she's the donna, and so she dies for your family. she's the sky arcobaleno, and so she dies for the world. she's your mother, but she dies anyway, doesn't fight it either, even knowing she will leave you behind, even knowing she won't ever get to see what you look like all grown-up.

everywhere you look, duty stares back at you, from your mother and the pacifier around her neck, her love for your family and the life she gives up for it, her love for you and how she dies anyway while you're still only a child. duty, from your family members and how they die for you and kill for you, how they do both at your command, how their lives are in the palms of your hands and how they weigh only as much as you allow them to at a time. duty, from the knowledge your foresight gives you and the shackles tied to the blood running through your veins.

your mother's only duty while she lives too. she loves you, but she'd have had to give birth to you anyway even if she didn't. she loves you, but she still gave birth to you even knowing the kind of life you'd have to live, the kind of hands you'd inevitably end up with, the burdens she'd have to lay on your shoulders, passing them down from her own. because she loves you, she finds the resolve to raise you to be able to face all of it head-on and come out on top, but she'd have had to raise you much the same way anyway even if she didn't.

(she doesn't die for you, doesn't fight to be able to keep living with you, and this, too, is your mother surrendering to duty one last time.)

(you're so sick of it, so angry at it, so hateful and resentful against it. you're so stifled by it to the point you've stopped being able to breathe for a long time now. or you would have been if they had taught you how to face duty in this way too.

it's for the better they didn't. a silver lining, sparing you pain that isn't necessary for you to go through. everyone you turn to only teaches you how to keep holding your breath longer, and you listen and learn, obedient and dutiful as you've ever been.

you're grateful for it too. really, you are.)

everywhere you look, there's no room for you to so much as question any of it, let alone anything more. duty is commendable, something you ought to look up to and strive towards, strive to achieve. duty is the right thing to do. of course it is.

(you exhale a breath of relief that shakes you down to your very core.

thank god, it's at least the right thing to do.

you're grateful for it beyond words. really, you are.)

imagine you're luce, and before it even happens, you know the choice you'll make when climbing that mountain, when standing on top of it, when waiting for a bright light to shine down on you from above. you know the choice you'll make then, even when pregnant with your daughter.

it doesn't matter since how long you knew, be it years, months, days, hours or minutes before. all that matters is that before you can even contemplate the idea of making another choice and all its implications and possible consequences, before the thought can even come alive in your mind, you already know the choice you'll make.

(you can see the future, but just because you already saw it, it doesn't mean it's now set in stone.

you can see the future, but just because you're given the chance to fight to change it, it doesn't mean it still won't happen every bit like you saw it.

it doesn't mean it can't still happen even worse than how you first saw it happen because you fought to change it, no matter how already dreadful it originally was.)

imagine you're luce, and before it even happens, you know they'll be others with you standing on top of that mountain. you're the only one who'll know it before it happens.

(because you can see the future.

and oh, you did not ask for it.)

they're strangers, people you don't owe anything to. adults who choose to show up at the first meeting, and to show up to every following mission after that. the chosen seven, whose ambitions and prides lead them to walk the path of the seven strongest too once laid down in front of them.

you don't force their hands in making any of those choices for them. you're not responsible for any of them.

you become coworkers then, accomplices, your hands stained in blood to various extent, but now dipping in the same pool of blood as you strive towards the same goal together. you have each other's backs, learn each other's strengths and weaknesses, learn each other's personalities, likes and dislikes. you keep having to spend more time together as the missions keep coming your way.

inevitably, you come to care about them. even more damning, they come to care about you in return. enough so they'll look after your daughter even after what'll happen on top of that mountain. enough so they'll look after your granddaughter too, warmly and fondly enough she'll call one of them uncle.

you're still the only one who knows they'll stand together with you on top of that mountain, not knowing what'll happen on it like you do.

and you do care about them, you swear you do. really, you do.

(you care about them the same way your mother cared about you, and how she still raised you to have steel in you and be made of sharp edges you know how to use. you care about them the same way you care about your family, and how you still send them to their deaths as needed so the rest of your family you care about just the same can keep on living longer and safely. this is the only way you've had the chance to learn how to care and love.

duty and sacrifices have been one and the same for you for as long as you can remember. it doesn't matter at which point sacrifices came to mean love to you too.

and most of all, you love your daughter more than anything else in the world.)

imagine you're luce, and this is who you are. this is who you've been raised to be, the only way you've been given room to grow up to be. this is the life you've lived and the kind of life that has shaped you as the person you are now. this is what you've been taught and told is the best version of yourself you could have grown up to be. this is who you ended up being by what you've been taught and told are all the right choices to make.

you're still the only one who knows what is about to happen on top of that mountain. it hasn't happened yet. the fate of the world hangs on what'll happen on top of that mountain, the same world you'll have to give birth to your daughter in. the same daughter you're currently pregnant with.

now imagine you're luce, look me in the eye and tell me you'd know how to even form the thought of the possibility of there being any other choice to make. look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't look at the only choice in front of you, and know deep in your bones it's the only right choice to make. that it is right of you to make it. because it simply has to be.

(imagine you're luce, and you're not doomed by the narrative. of course, you're not.

why would you need to be when the narrative has painstakingly shaped you all your life to become its perfect, faithful and dutiful sacrificial lamb?

and then, imagine you're luce, and you're even grateful for it, so, so very grateful it held up its end of the bargain too.

truly, you are.)

[faggotry-enjoyer]

oh i'm definitely gonna lose some friends for this one huh

[theriverdalereviewer]

everyone jumping to team kamala we will never experience true freedom in this country

[talentforlying]

thinking today about constantine and the various personas / disguises he wears as a con man!!

when he wants to make people underestimate his intelligence (and/or get under some rich snobs' skins) he has a tendency to thicken his accent, play hard & heavy with aphorisms, and adopt an overly-cheerful, affectedly blasé attitude. (a great example being his introductory "morning squire! nice day for an orgy, eh, wot?" when he got himself invited to that high society fuckfest to scam england's upper crust with some bullshit magic.) he'll get much more touchy-feely, gets up in people's spaces more than is socially appropriate, and really plays the fool, so when he turns around and reveals the trick, he gets to enjoy all the gobsmacked reactions.

when he wants to fit in with high society or get something out of someone by making them feel important / respected / bonded to him in some way, the scouse doesn't disappear; his voice just gets lower, slower, and has smoother, crisper enunciation. maybe a touch of RP if he's really laying it on thick. this version of constantine has got tailored suits and cufflinks, avoids touching and being touched like the plague, mirrors behaviors to make connections, makes eye contact like he's playing chicken with everyone he looks at, and offers hook-ups to all the vices known to man, as well as the ones known by those well beyond humanity. he makes a point of establishing himself as a useful and reliable contact for anything and everything, so that if he ever needs an angle on someone or a little extra cash, he knows exactly where to get a little lucrative material.

the common thread between the two is that he makes himself memorable, be it in a positive or a negative way. he makes sure people not only see him, but take note of him; that they leave with a memory, so if their paths ever cross again or they ever need his particular skillset, there's a chance to turn a profit later on.

[godneuteredmeforbeingtoopowerful]

Ended up writing a whole post in tags ig, feels shitty tbh bc it’s softening the blow which is exactly my issue with censorship irl. People censor on TikTok bc it’s the only way to get their opinions out without being silenced, not because it’s ACTUALLY BAD TO SAY REAL WORDS. Discomfort is *important* actually. Media literacy is at an all time low despite more people having to go to school to live and it shows

[c1trvswurld]

I'll never forget when i was discussing self reliance by Waldo Emerson with my teacher and it evolved into well-needed deep conversations about media literacy and pro/anti-ship debates found online

[chaotictomtom]

comes out all beaten up and coughing up blood : hi guys im just done with my 2 hours paperwork moment (living in france experience)

[6ebe]

rfef has blood on their hands but that injury was not on them or pedri. that was 100% on kroos

I mean that cannot be substantively said either way. Would another player without pedri’s injury issues have been injured by that tackle ? We cannot say for sure. His injury issues are chronic and frequent; that goes beyond individual bad actors and that’s the trend I’m trying to point out.

​blaming individual players (whether they are to blame or not) diminishes accountability that should be being levelled at systemic gross negligence by the rfef. Same issue with blaming Georgian players for injuring gavi or blaming one individual for injuring ansu. It’s a trend. And the common denominator is overwork.

[fading-event-608]

Hello! I see people here are talking about Gaza again. 

I’m not one to vaguepost, nor do I usually spend time arguing with zionists and liberals online, but the amount of “pro-Palestine” liberals I’ve seen in the last day saying that Gazans “deserve genocide” because Trump won…

I’m not surprised to hear that democrats are mad at third-party voters. It’s true that even if all swing third-party votes went to Kamala she’d still have lost, but reality isn’t important to these people. Democrats want a monopoly - of course they’re upset at everyone who isn’t voting for their party. Of course they’re more upset with communists and anarchists than they are with nazis.

None of this is new. But even though we’ve seen these patterns before, I am absolutely sick to witness these people blaming Palestinians for this. I’m sick hearing them almost gleefully wishing for Gaza to be turned into a parking lot. I’m sick coming across individualistic little diatribes about how they’re “done” boycotting, “done” helping others.

Is it Palestinians’ fault that Kamala’s campaign was so poorly run?

Is it Palestinians’ fault that the US is now so full of nazis that the Democrats lost the popular vote for the first time since 2004, by 5 million votes?

Is it Palestinians’ fault that the US supplies and supports Israel in their annihilation of Gaza and other occupied Palestinian territories, as well as neighbouring countries?

Is it Palestinians’ fault that the government assisting Israel’s genocidal project was, for the past four years, Biden’s administration? A Democrat’s administration? 

The crime that Palestinians have committed in the eyes of these liberals is the crime of existing where said liberals can see them - namely, on social media. The unofficial charges: not being silent, resisting, asking for help from the people best equipped to give money for their survival. So again, I’ll ask - is it the fault of Palestinians that the people best equipped to help them are those in the imperial core? That the people Palestinians must go to for help are people benefitting from both this genocide and the genocides the empires that house them are built on?

Of course the gravest offence is interrupting the liberal supply of white noise. Comfort is, after all, the biggest priority in liberalism - silence and denial is self care. Murder by proxy is the most popular of hobbies, and is best enjoyed with the sound off. But Palestinians are not quiet. You can see their faces now - and the identification of them as something other than faceless, or rather someone, begins to burrow through the insulation built up around you. 

You have the barest sense of how fragile your world is. You can either turn away from this, or continue your journey towards the truth. These liberals are examples of those violently turning away and taking up the slaughter again, desperate to dispel any reminders that they are not the only people on earth worthy of life.

You can literally buy an indulgence now by donating to a Palestinian fundraiser. Yes, even if you’re not a Democrat, or you’re from Europe (chances are your government supplies Israel too, or is at least complacent), or there’s any other facet of your identity that supplies nuance. This is up to all of us, no matter who we are. 

I’ve been spotlighting Falastin’s campaign to save her family in Gaza for more than two months now. I will continue to do so until they’re safe; but their safety will likely be a long time coming. This is in part because Falastin’s campaign must support 24 people, and in part because donations are slowing down - not only for Falastin, but for a lot of other fundraisers I keep an eye on. To be afraid for so many people while watching liberals angrily abandoning this cause is distressing and disheartening.

This is life or death. I don’t care who you are, and I care even less to hear if you’ve voted or who you voted for. All I ask is that you boost this post and, if you can, donate to Falastin. The Gofundme is in SEK and the rates are:

10$ = 107 SEK

25$ = 269 SEK

50$ = 538 SEK

100$ = 1,076 SEK

You can also donate via PayPal in USD: [LINK]

We also host a raffle for hand-made Palestinian thob [info HERE], and the first winner will be chosen in a bit less than 2 days. 

P. S. Yes, Falastin’s campaign has been vetted, several times across multiple platforms:

#282 in El-Shab-Hussein and Nabulsi's spreadsheet [HERE], 

#957 in the Butterfly Project spreadsheet [HERE]

Falastin's account: [LINK]

[hoao]

haikyuu is incredible man…

you ever think about the fact that some people exist not to become stars but to lead others towards the light? ….

hinata was so moved by the little giant that his life found meaning the moment he came into his life (and the little giant never really ended up becoming a pro volleyball player in the first place despite his drive and talent!)

nekomata sensei’s “all we have to do is to lower the net!” shaped kuroo’s entire existence. it left such an impression on him that kuroo turned it into his goal in life: helping as many people as possible discover volleyball.

kuroo himself never going pro but becoming instead a bridge between people and volleyball (which he loves so dearly he wants to make it everyone’s business).

takeda sensei’s “He Who Would Climb a Ladder Must Begin at the Bottom” (which he says to hinata during his first year) became so meaningful to him that hinata hanged it on the wall of his bedroom in Brazil.

sugawara becoming a teacher and getting emotional when facing hinata (to whom he used to set when kageyama refused to do it) and kageyama (who quite literally took what had been his place up until the moment he came) and their growth.

you might think you will never end up doing anything great. instead, i believe you might not end up doing something grand, but whatever it is that you do in life it will always be great and you simply never know whether that one thing you said once or that one thing you once did will ever become the driving force behind someone else’s dream.

[paddockletters]

only girl (in the word) | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader summary: Lando and y/n enjoy a night out at a club with friends, but when some girls try to get close, he doesn't allow it and gives you your place as always. author's note: I took inspiration from a tiktok that I saw some time ago and I wanted to write it, so I hope you like it 😭😭

The lights of the nightclub flickered as the music pulsed through the room, blending with the laughter and chatter of the crowd. I leaned back against the VIP section, sipping my drink and watching Lando at the DJ booth with Martin. Both of them were having a blast, messing around with the controller and hyping up the crowd. Nights like this had become a regular thing for us—a little bit of fun, music, and good company with our tight-knit circle.

Even though Lando was always in the spotlight, we had managed to keep our relationship pretty private. Only our closest circle knew. It wasn't that we were hiding it, but having a relationship in the spotlight of F1 could be… overwhelming. It allowed us to just be us without the pressure of prying eyes and the constant speculation from fans or media.

I was watching him goof off with Martin when I felt someone nudge me. I turned to see Max (Fewtrell) , one of Lando’s closest friends, grinning as he leaned over to speak, his voice barely audible over the music.

"He's having the time of his life up there, isn't he?" Max said with a chuckle, motioning toward Lando, who was pretending to DJ like a pro.

"He really is. I’m just waiting for him to mess something up.” I laughed, nodding.

Max laughed, his eyes scanning the dance floor before he leaned closer.

"You know, it’s funny—he never really used to like these kinds of nights before you."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. "He’d always be the one leaving early, saying he had training or a race coming up. But ever since you guys started hanging out, he sticks around longer. Seems to enjoy it more. I think you’re a good influence on him."

"Maybe I’m just more fun than his training sessions." I smiled at the thought.

"Definitely more fun," Max teased, giving me a wink before heading off to join a few other friends.

I took another sip of my drink, feeling the warmth spread through me, both from the alcohol and Max’s words. I glanced back toward the DJ booth, catching Lando’s eye as he looked over at me, a playful grin on his face. He gave me a quick wink before returning to the music, his fingers moving over the controls like he knew exactly what he was doing.

It was then that I noticed a group of girls edging closer to him. One in particular seemed determined to get his attention, her phone already in hand, angling for a selfie or a picture with him. She was bold, stepping right up to him, bottle in hand, and attempting to take the one Lando was holding.

I watched as Lando paused, his smile fading slightly. He gently pushed her hand away, not rough, but firm enough to make his point. I could see him looking around, scanning the crowd until his eyes found mine. His expression softened immediately, and without hesitation, he motioned for me to come closer.

I could feel the girls' eyes on me as I made my way over. Their glances were sharp, the kind of looks that were meant to make you feel out of place, but I wasn’t about to let that ruin the night. Lando didn’t say a word when I reached him, just slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine in a protective, almost possessive way.

"Hey," he whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."

"Good," he said, leaning in closer. "Because I want you right here with me."

He pulled me in even tighter, and I rested my head on his shoulder for a moment, letting the music and the energy of the club surround us. Lando kissed the top of my head, a small gesture, but one that made me feel like the only person in the room.

Just then, Martin leaned over, grinning at us.

"Oi, Lando! You better be careful up here, mate. You’re making her fall for you all over again!"

"That’s the plan, mate!" Lando laughed, his arm never leaving my waist.

"You’re such a dork." I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging him.

"But I’m your dork," he replied with a cheeky grin.

As the night wore on, we danced, laughed, and enjoyed every second. The crowd seemed to disappear, and it was just us, lost in our own little world. But every now and then, I’d catch one of the girls from earlier casting a glance our way, her lips curled in a smug smile as if she was waiting for me to crack under the pressure of being in Lando’s orbit.

It didn’t bother me, not really. Lando had always made sure I knew my place in his life. He wasn’t the type to flirt with random girls or let anyone come between us. But I couldn’t deny that the whispers, the glances, they got under my skin just a little.

After a while, Lando leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "You wanna get out of here?"

I nodded, grateful for the offer. The night had been fun, but I was ready for something quieter, something just for us.

"Yeah, let’s go."

He grabbed my hand, guiding me through the crowd, past the girls who had been eyeing us all night. One of them whispered something to her friend as we passed, but I didn’t catch it. I didn’t need to. The look on her face said enough.

As we stepped outside, the cool night air hit my skin, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Lando squeezed my hand, pulling me close.

"You okay?" he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to brush it off, but decided against it.

"It’s just… sometimes it’s hard being around people who don’t really get us, you know?"

Lando frowned, his thumb brushing gently over the back of my hand. "Did something happen inside?"

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It’s nothing, really. Just some girls being… well, girls."

"What did they say?" Lando stopped walking, turning to face me fully.

I shook my head, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

"It’s not what they said, it’s just... their looks. Like they were waiting for me to mess up or something. I don’t know. I guess I’m not used to it."

Lando’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping mine a little harder.

"You know you don’t have to worry about that, right? I’m with you. Only you."

I smiled, touched by his words.

"I know. I just—sometimes it feels like I’m always being watched. Like I’m never enough."

Lando’s expression softened, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. "You’re more than enough. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you aren’t. Especially not them."

I hugged him back, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and for the first time that night, I felt at ease. With Lando by my side, the whispers, the looks—they didn’t matter.

As we pulled apart, he leaned down and kissed me gently, his lips lingering on mine for just a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, he grinned.

"Come on, let’s go home. I think we are going have a more fun night there."

"Yeah, let’s get out of here." I laughed softly, nodding in agreement.

And with that, hand in hand, we left the nightclub behind, ready to end the night our way—together.

[that-fic-girl]

HAZBIN HOTEL X READER HC #1

Head canon: what it would be like to date them.

characters: Alastor, angel dust, husk, vox

disclaimer: everything i write about these characters might not be accurate to the actual story, please take everything in the fic with a grain of salt, none of this is canon!!

Alastor

he hasnt been in an actual relationship in a while so being close and vulnerable with someone is quite hard for him, especially as someone who associates emotions with weakness.

First off, its safe to say he adores the ground you walk on. He's in love with everything about you, your clothes, the smell of your hair, your sickly sweet voice. his loves it all.

If there was ever a problem you needed fixing, a person you needed taken care of or even a errand you needed to run he would tend to it himself. he would not let you lift a finger.

PDA is a iffy thing for him, he wouldnt do grand big gestures but maybe a hand on the hip or a few words of affirmation.

everyone in the pride ring quickly learned of yours and radio demon's relationship. And no one dared to mess with you, ofcourse there was people who wanted to test their luck but they would have to pay the price later.

his love language is definitely words of affirmation, he will sweet talk the shit out of you. At night when it's just you two in bed, he will have his hands stroking through your hair whilst you rant to him about your day and he'll reply with sweet nothings

"oh darling, i've missed you all evening"

"you looked ravishing today my dear.."

"mm your hair smells amazing, my love"

Angel Dust

Angel is one of, if not, the horniest mother fuckers out there but somehow, he manages to somewhat make a healthy relationship with someone.

you two are seen as "the bad bitch" couple. you're always out together, always getting into dumb shit together. You'll get yelled at by vaggie at early hours in the morning because the two of you where playing a childish game of tag in the hotel halls.

his love language is definitely physical touch, he'll have his arms slung around your waist almost all the time. Kisses are a MUST every 5 minutes, like this boy will NOT part from you. especially in the mornings when you have to leave for work;

"mmnnnnoooooooo...stayyy for five minutes pleasseeeee"

"but sweets..you're soooo warm"

"sweetheart please, you feel so comfy"

yeah good luck with that.

nights with him are VERY eventful, if it wasn't obvious. You two would usually be at it late hours into the night but sometimes, when you two where too exhausted to fuck like rabbits, he would be sprawled across your lap whilst you stroked his fur.

Husk

Despite his harsh tone and uncompromising demeanor, you understood that Husk wasn't trying to be malicious towards you. It was simply his way of communicating, and you knew that his behavior wasn't personal. Even though he could be abrasive at times, you loved him for his rough edges and authentic personality

You and Husk's time together was mostly spent at the bar. You didn't like to drink much, but you loved seeing him work and make cocktails like a pro. You didn't mind that it wasn't considered a typical date, because you liked spending time with him in whatever way he felt most comfortable.

Husk is not used to receiving compliments, as he didn't often receive them in his past life. When you complimented him, it caught him off guard and he was surprised. But he eventually learned to appreciate it, and it even made him feel a little sentimental.

Despite the difficulty, you were able to help Husk realize that you genuinely cared about him. He had been used to being surrounded by dishonesty and hypocrisy, but you were always sincere and real. He held you in high regard, as you were the only source of light in his life, and he didn't want to lose you.

vox

You were known as a strong and independent person who didn't need assistance from others. You knew how to stand up for yourself, despite being harsh and tough at times. Despite your exterior, no one was aware of the soft spot in your heart that Vox's affection and touch alone could melt away your severity.

He appreciated seeing your affectionate side, as it felt special and intimate, like a shared secret between the two of you. He knew you valued your privacy, and he respected it by never sharing photos or other details on social media. He didn't want to betray your trust.

You were often feared and respected when you were with Vox. People found it hard to believe that someone as intimidating as yourself could have a tender, caring side that was kept hidden from most. Vox was glad that he was the only one who got to see that side of you. He didn't want to share something so special and personal with anyone else.

Quite often, he would call you on the phone, knowing that sweet words could be just as effective as a kiss. He enjoyed hearing how your voice softened from its usual seriousness to a more affectionate tone. He was aware that when he said loving phrases to you, you would blush and smile shyly, and sometimes he even regretted not being able to witness it in person.

"i've missed you today babe.."

"mhm look at my pretty girl/boy!"

[euniexenoblade]

tl;dr version: a very frequent and more recent flavor of trans exclusionism, transmisogyny, and transphobia at large has started to bubble up as an overpowering, overwhelming (and fake) acceptance of gnc cis people.

The actual long version:

Trans people, especially trans women, when they want to come out or explore their gender are often met with loved ones, family, or friends telling them "you can just be gnc, you don't know you're actually trans, men can be feminine, you should try that before scary life changes" we often talk about how this is a move by abusive, transmisogynistic people in our lives, who pretend to to care about gnc people, but in reality it's just transphobia manifesting as a false support. They often manipulate trans people into not pursuing transition and then lay on all the manipulation to convince us we were so silly to think we're trans afterwards.

Though there's a lot of people who still see it as honest support for the gnc, most of us are pretty clear that it's transphobic. But, another way this takes form is from other trans people, there are a lot of trans people with internalized transphobia who only view the existence negatively and when you talk about people potentially being trans, you activate their rapid internalized self hate: how can you say that? You can't know someone else's gender! You're forcing them to be trans! Men can be gnc! You're actually the transphobic one!

You also see it take form as things like "egg prime directive." "You can't tell the egg they might be trans!!!" Yes, you can. And you probably should. Trans people are not some mythical once in a blue moon thing. We are everywhere. There's lots of us. Being trans is not a bad thing, it's simply just a thing. Acting like you can't tell people they're trans is treating trans people like we're dirty secrets, a thing to be ashamed of, you're treating it like an insult. The truth of the matter is, telling someone they're exhibiting things associated with trans people can help speed up the process, less dysphoria to agonize over, less confusion as to what's going on, you can help kickstart a path to happiness.

But these people don't. Cuz they don't *want* people to be trans, and very specifically don't want people to be transfem. I don't need to get into the polls that showed most transmascs think telling a friend they might be a trans woman is morally wrong, you've seen it already. I don't need to tell you about how a transfem mentioned a specific person in the media seemed transfem, just for people to harass them (idk pronouns) off the site, just for people to confirm that yes - the individual in the news was likely transfem. And with that realization didn't come an apology, didnt come a new understanding, the trans and "pro trans" harassers stuck to their guns "recognizing transhood in others the way you see it in yourself is the same as transvestigation, the right wing transphobic conspiracy theory!"

This topic has been talked about a lot this past year, with the egg joke discourse, people getting harassed and ran off the site for correctly mentioning someone seems transfem, the constant harassment and blog deletion of trans women, the onslaught of harassment from the transandrodorks and terfs, etc etc. but I feel like it never gets correctly classified as a form of exclusionism. We easily recognize truscum exclusionism as what it is: "youre nb? You don't try to pass? You don't shave? Lol fake trans" it's the blue hair with pronouns schtick. It's gatekeeping the community. But, in the same respect, the "you can't just say people are trans" "it's ok to be gnc!" anti egg joke types of people are just as exclusionary. One end it's "you aren't a true transexual" and the other is "be gnc instead, being trans is a bad thing."

It's the projection of internalized transphobia into a policy. You can't tell anyone they're trans because you don't see trans people as anyone, you see them as weird monsters. That's a really depressing form of exclusion, but exclusion all the same.