#and those that are going on spaces and saying they are are living in the same world where Larry are married with children living HEA

[liiixsturniolos]

"Think you can take it?"

matt sturniolo x reader & chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut, unprotected, p in v, threesome, oral (male receiving).

¿ what happens when you Matt and Chris get a little too bored, but both of them want you.. you'll have to compromise and fuck 'em both at the same time.

You were sitting in the living room with your friends, Chris and Matt. Watching a movie you've seen before. Nick was out at a space camp meeting, and you all sat there bored without him.

You sit relaxed in the middle of the couch, with Matt on one side and Chris on the other.

The room is uncomfortably silent. Chris and Matt are looking back and forth at you.

"God, I'm so bored." You sigh.

Chris' hand slides up your thigh, "Ya' look so fuckin' good in those shorts.." he whispers

Blood rushes to your face, forcing your cheeks to turn a rosy-red,

Matts eyes focus on your face. He's analysing every expression, watching the way you blush and Chris' hand creeping further and further up your thigh.

You catch Matts eye, and he gives you a jealous glare and aggressively grabs your other thigh. They fight for your attention, like children, it was pathetic, if only they knew you wanted them both.

Chris leans in, pulls up your chin, and kisses you for what feels like hours, fluttering your eyes open and closed as he wraps his lips around yours.

Then he let's go, and turns to look at you, until Matt grabs you, kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down on your mouth, his hands slipping under your top,

Minutes later, you're all undressed, Matt is sitting on the edge of the couch, pants down, and you're sliding off his underwear.

You dont know how you ended up like this, but you knew you didn't want to stop.

“Can you be a good girl and suck my cock?" Matt says, innocently, with the tilt of his head,

“Go on, let him fuck ya' mouth ma'," Chris tells you as he slowly slides into you from behind.

You attach your mouth around Matts head, and he lets you get used to his dick in your mouth before thrusting his hips forward, his tip hitting the back of your throat violently,

"Can I?" Chris whispers slyly in your ear, you whisper back an approval, and he started fucking you fast, and deep, you tried to keep your mouth around Matt but it dropped open,

"Mmm..-fuck!" You cry out as Chris pounds himself into you, hitting your spot, He presses his chest against your back, "Ya' gotta' keep helpin' Matt out to, or ill stop" he mumbles, you agree to this, taking Matts dick back into your mouth happily.

“Shes soaked." Chris chuckles. Rubbing against your clit perfectly, "come for me," he groans in your ear,

Your legs start to shake, and you let out a loud moan with your mouth still wrapped around Matt and come around Chris' dick. Chris comes at the same time, his cum spilling out of you,

But he continues to thrust himself into you, and you let out soft sighs and whimpers as he does, focusing now on sucking Matt off, you run your tongue around him, putting pressure on his cock, flicking your tongue across him, taking him in further of your throat.

"Fuck-ugh..fuck." Matt moans out as he comes into your mouth, throwing his head back in pleasure.

You give him a proud look before using your fingers to wipe away some of his cum that had dripped out of your mouth...

hope you liked this shittt ;)!! Interact if you did, likes, re-blogs and I LOVE comments from anyone. <3

taglist: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @1-d0nt-w4nn4-b3-m3-4nym0r3 @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @matts-myloverboy @sturniolo-fann @emely9274

#s

[rootedinrevisions]

Just...Stay: Part 2

SUMMARY: Tyler has to prove himself and win back your trust after nearly losing you for good. As he tries to commit to building a life together, the past tensions resurface, challenging both of you to confront the insecurities and fears that have kept you apart.

PART 1 HERE

A/N: I tried to write this using some of the ideas that you guys had for where YOU would like to see the story go (ie: a little bit of Tyler groveling, her moving on, and Tyler having to try and win her back! Hope you like it! xx

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

WARNINGS: Angst. Fluff.

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Twisters (Mostly Tyler right now, but possibly others soon)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

You stand on the porch, watching Tyler’s taillights disappear down the long, winding road. The ache in your chest tightens, and you whisper to yourself, He’s gone. This time, for real. You let out a shaky breath, gripping the porch railing as if it can steady the chaos churning inside you. You’ve waited so many times for him to turn around, to decide he wanted you as much as you wanted him. But he’d made his choice, and you can’t keep waiting for him to want you.

With a shaky breath, you went back inside, the echo of his last words still hanging heavy in the air. Your hands trembled as you reached for your phone, already pressing the familiar contact without needing to see the name. When the line connected and your mother answered, you could barely get out a word. But she didn’t need you to; she recognized the silence, the breathless, broken sound of you holding back tears.

“Oh, honey,” she said softly, with that knowing sadness in her voice. “You don’t have to say a thing. I know.”

The crack in her voice brought the tears you’d been fighting up to the surface. The dam broke, and everything you’d been holding in—the hope, the ache, the final goodbye—poured out, leaving you unable to respond as she filled the silence with soft, soothing words.

“I’m coming over,” she assured you. “Just sit tight. I’ll be there soon.”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, wiping away tears as you settled back against the counter, feeling like the empty space Tyler left behind was somehow everywhere now, pressing in around you. The quiet house felt so much bigger without him in it, the emptiness swallowing every corner that once held laughter, whispered promises, and the comfort of his steady presence—even if it was always temporary.

Later, you and your mom sit in the living room, the stillness almost too much to bear. She’s wrapped her arms around you, her gentle strength holding you together when you feel like you’re falling apart. You try to hold back the tears, but the weight of everything—of hoping he’d turn around, hoping he’d realize he was making a mistake, hoping he’d come back up those steps to say he was staying—finally breaks.

Your mom rubs small circles on your back, her voice soft and steady. “He made his choice, and someday, he’ll understand what he’s lost,” she murmurs. “You did everything you could, honey. You deserve someone who’s going to put you first.”

You nod, though it doesn’t stop the ache gnawing at you. For the first time, though, you start to let the truth settle in: that you deserve more than the waiting, the hoping. That you deserve someone who chooses you fully, every single day.

Later that night you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, the harsh light making your face look even more worn from the day, you brace yourself for another quiet night. You slip into your pajamas, ready to try and sleep through the ache in your chest, when your phone lights up on the countertop. Tyler’s name stares back at you, as if daring you to pick up.

Your heart thuds painfully, and for a split second, you’re tempted. He’s calling, just like he said he would. But you can’t answer this time. You can’t let him back in, not after everything. So you hit the red button, sending his call to silence.

Thirty seconds later, your phone lights up again—his name filling the screen once more. The resolve you’d tried so hard to build threatens to crumble, but you steady yourself, knowing you need to stay strong. You told him what would happen if he left. You’d made it clear, and this time, you have to stay firm with that.

With a deep breath, you hit “Ignore” again, feeling both the sting of regret and the strength of your own boundaries. It hurts, but you know it’s what you need to do.

You turn your phone face-down on the bed, trying to ignore the nagging pull to check it. But when you do, Tyler’s message is there, waiting.

Tyler: Can we talk? I just want to talk to you.

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of every unsaid word between you. He wants to talk, but he still isn’t saying what you need to hear—no apologies, no acknowledgment of what he’s putting you through, just the same vague promises. Another message appears as you sit, reading it with an ache building in your chest.

Tyler: Please. Talk to me darlin.

You want to answer; some part of you always will. But there’s no real shift in his words, no sign that he understands what you need. It’s just Tyler reaching out like he always does, and leaving you to carry the weight when he pulls away.

So, you let the messages sit. They stare back at you, blue checkmarks confirming that you’ve seen them, leaving him on read for once. It takes everything in you, but you put your phone on silent and push it to the side. This time, you’re standing firm.

* * * *

A few months had come and gone since you’d last heard Tyler’s voice, and while the ache lingered, day by day, you’d felt it dull. The first few weeks had been the hardest—filled with reminders of him in places you hadn’t even thought to look. But with time, you’d found a new rhythm. You packed up his things and stored them in the barn loft, out of sight and mostly out of mind. There’d been a few days when you’d thought he might call again, but each week that passed with no message made it easier to let him go.

Then, just a few nights ago, you’d bumped into Matt at the bar. The quiet, shy boy you remembered from high school was still there, but he’d grown more self-assured, his conversations easy and light. He’d listened intently, asked thoughtful questions, and laughed at your jokes, which was a nice change after months of heartache. When he’d asked if you’d join him for dinner, his eyes hopeful yet calm, you found yourself agreeing without hesitation.

Now, as you finish getting ready, you catch a glimmer of that anticipation you thought you’d lost. It’s a soft, hopeful excitement, different from the wild spark you’d once had for Tyler, but maybe that’s exactly what you need.

As you slip on your shoes and give yourself one last look in the mirror, a strange mixture of nerves and excitement tingles in your stomach. It’s been so long since you let yourself look forward to something like this—putting on a new dress, curling your hair, and swiping on lipstick just to feel a little spark. It feels nice to step into a night that’s full of possibility, even if it’s quieter than the whirlwind you once imagined with Tyler.

Matt isn’t the kind of guy who will leave you on edge, wondering what comes next. That thought is comforting as you smooth the fabric of your dress and check your reflection one last time. He’s steady, warm, and easy to talk to, and when he’d asked you out last week, you’d felt a genuine flicker of excitement—a feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself in ages.

Your phone chimes, breaking the silence of your room. You glance over, expecting it to be a text from Matt saying he’s on his way, but instead, you freeze. 

Tyler’s name flashes across the screen, and for a moment, everything else fades.

Tyler: Hey. I know it’s been a while, but can we talk? I’ve been thinking a lot. Just… if you have a minute.

You stare at the message, feeling a swirl of emotions you thought you’d buried. It’s been weeks since his last message, and each day that passed without one felt like another small step forward. You’ve been letting him go—pushing his things up into the barn loft, moving him out of your thoughts inch by inch. But tonight, of all nights, he’s suddenly there, reaching out again.

The phone chimes again, and another message appears.

Tyler: I’m sorry. I miss you. Just thought you should know.

Your heart clenches, but this time, you feel a new kind of strength holding you back. You let out a shaky breath, reminding yourself that you deserve someone who doesn’t make you wait and wonder, who doesn’t leave just to come back again. Tyler’s voice and his words, tempting as they are, can’t keep pulling you under. Not anymore.

With that, you tuck your phone into your bag, letting his message go unanswered as you grab your keys. Tonight, you’re stepping out into something new, something steady and full of hope—maybe even something that finally lets you move on.

At dinner, you and Matt settle into a cozy booth near the window, the glow of candlelight casting a soft warmth across the table. You offer a smile, and he returns it, looking just as eager and nervous as you feel. The waiter takes your orders, and for a moment, you both fumble with your menus, using them as a buffer against the quiet that settles between you.

“So,” Matt says, clearing his throat, “how’s work been treating you?”

You launch into a polite summary, and he nods along, sharing his own stories from the hardware store, a few of which earn a chuckle. But as you finish, another silence slips in, and you feel that small, familiar tension build in your chest. You drum your fingers lightly on the table, scanning your mind for something—anything—to say. Just as the silence is about to become too much, Matt asks if you’re excited for the weekend, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

You tell yourself it’s probably just nerves, that this is normal. After all, it’s been a couple of years since you’ve been on a real date, and first dates are always a little awkward. But as you lift your glass to take a sip, you can’t help but think back to the times you’d come to this same restaurant with Tyler. How the conversation would flow so easily, sometimes even late into the night. You’d swap stories, share laughs, and talk about everything and nothing all at once. There was never a lull, never a forced smile or the need to fill the quiet.

You catch yourself before the memory sinks any deeper and shake your head, forcing a smile as Matt picks up on a new thread of conversation.

Stepping outside the restaurant after dinner with Matt, you hold the door open just long enough to make sure he’s following when you feel yourself bump into someone headed in. You stumble back, and strong hands instinctively reach out to steady you. You begin to apologize, breathless from the sudden collision, only to look up and freeze. 

Those familiar, green eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything around you blurs. Tyler stands before you, in a red button-up, worn jeans, and that off-white Stetson you know all too well. He murmurs your name, his voice thick with something unreadable as he holds you in place for a heartbeat longer than necessary. 

But before you can react, Matt is by your side, his hand pressing warmly against your lower back, gently pulling you away. 

Tyler releases you, his gaze lingering as Matt asks if you’re okay. You nod, feeling a bit dazed, and allow Matt to guide you toward the street.

Tyler calls your name again, his voice softer, a thread of desperation woven through it. But you glance back only briefly before following Matt down the sidewalk, his arm curling around your shoulders protectively as he continues talking, oblivious to the moment that just passed. 

You try to steady yourself, but the weight of Tyler’s gaze is still on you, even as you walk away.

Watching you leave with someone else beside you, Tyler’s heart twists in a way he didn’t see coming. The sight of Matt’s hand resting comfortably on your shoulder, of you turning away from him so resolutely, strikes deeper than any storm he’s ever chased. It’s in this moment that something cracks, and he realizes with painful clarity just how much he’s let slip through his fingers. The thought of anyone else sharing the moments you once shared together is a weight he can’t shake. As he watches you disappear into the night, Tyler makes a silent vow to win you back, whatever it takes.

Matt drives you home, the quiet hum of the engine filling the comfortable silence between you as you watch the streets blur past. He’s considerate, not pushing for conversation, as though sensing the hints of distraction lingering in your gaze. When he pulls up to your house, he steps out first, hurrying around to open your door. You offer a grateful smile, following him to your porch as you fish for your keys.

Standing under the dim porch light, you both pause, caught in that familiar, tentative moment that usually ends with a goodnight kiss. Matt smiles, leaning in with a softness in his eyes that tells you he’s hoping for more than the simple goodbye you’re about to offer. And though part of you wants to bridge that gap—maybe even craves the closure it could bring—Tyler’s face flashes in your mind, his eyes catching yours across that restaurant entrance, and you can’t shake the thought.

You lean forward, placing a gentle kiss on Matt’s cheek before stepping back, your hand lightly on his arm. He seems to understand, though a hint of disappointment flickers in his eyes. “Goodnight, Matt,” you say softly, your hand dropping back to your side.

“Goodnight,” he replies, a warm smile slipping back into place. He pulls you in for a quick hug, his embrace steady and reassuring, but he doesn’t push for more. 

Watching him walk back to his car, you feel a pang of guilt. Matt’s a good man, and he deserves someone whose heart isn’t scattered across memories and what-ifs.

You let out a slow breath as his car pulls away, whispering into the stillness around you. You know you’re not quite there yet.

Minutes later you are in the kitchen, getting yourself a glass of water when you hear it. When you hear him. The rumble of his truck reaches you before the sight of it does, that familiar low, steady hum breaking the quiet night. You freeze in place, feeling the sound more than hearing it, the way it seems to settle into your bones and send your heart racing. You step over to the kitchen window, barely breathing as you watch him pull up, headlights cutting through the darkness until he shuts the engine off.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, just sits there, his silhouette still and contemplative. You’d know the tilt of his head, the set of his shoulders, anywhere. 

Slowly, he climbs out and makes his way up the path, boots crunching on the gravel. With each step he takes your mind races, grasping for words, trying to brace for the conversation you know he’s here to have.

When he reaches the front porch, he pauses, hands on his hips as he lets out a long breath. His eyes flick to the window, and you step back instinctively, as though he might see you. 

You feel a sharp pang in your chest, the past month of silence cracking open like fresh heartbreak. Then he’s knocking, the sound a low, insistent rhythm that echoes through the house, reaching you where you stand, rooted in place.

You take a deep, steadying breath, one hand reaching to your chest as if to calm the beat of your heart. You can’t avoid him now. Whatever he has to say, you need to hear it. Your fingers wrap around the doorknob, twisting it as you remind yourself to stand strong, to keep your heart guarded.

With one last breath, you open the door, meeting Tyler’s gaze—the same gaze that’s held you and let you go too many times to count. Tyler’s eyes find yours, raw and pleading, and his face softens in a way you haven’t seen in a long time. He takes a shaky breath, his words tumbling out in a rush like he’s been holding them back for too long. 

“I know I messed up. I know I’ve given you every reason to walk away,” he begins, his voice low and thick with emotion. “But I can’t lose you. I can’t…not like this.”

His hands run through his hair, and for a second, he looks at the ground, gathering himself. When he looks back up, his eyes glisten, and he steps closer, his words growing more insistent. 

“These last few months, you not talking to me… I can’t even explain how much that hurt. How much I’ve missed you—missed everything we had. I kept thinking, maybe if I left you alone, you’d be better off. But I was wrong, and now I can’t stand not being near you.”

He takes another breath, his voice catching slightly as he adds, “I want to come home. I want to be with you. I want to come back and stay this time…if you’ll have me.”

You feel your heart stutter, your mind racing to process what he’s just said. You’ve wanted to hear those words so many times before, but now…now that he’s here, your defenses come rushing up. 

You try to keep your voice steady, shaking your head as you take a step back. “Tyler…you don’t just get to come back whenever you feel like it. You left. You made that choice, and I—” But you stop, seeing the way he looks at you, eyes shining with the tears he’s trying to keep back.

He’s holding his breath, his chest rising and falling like he’s struggling to hold himself together. The vulnerability in his face hits you like a wave, breaking down the walls you’ve been trying so hard to build.

“Please,” he whispers, voice barely above a breath. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I…I just need you to know that you’re it for me. You’re home. Not just this house or the land…you, darlin’. Anywhere you are, that’s where I want to be. I don’t want to run anymore.”

You feel a knot in your chest tighten, torn between the longing in his words and the pain of what’s happened.

“Tyler,” you begin, voice unsteady, “I can’t do this again. I can’t open myself up just to watch you walk away.”

His hand reaches out, hesitating before he rests it on your arm, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your skin. “I’m not going anywhere this time,” he says softly, his voice trembling. “Not unless you tell me to.”

The look in his eyes tells you he’s here, truly here, every bit of himself laid bare for you. And for the first time, you see a man who’s willing to fight—fight to be with you, fight for a future together, fight to make up for every broken promise.

You cross your arms over your chest, the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air between you. For a second, it almost feels like you can’t breathe. His words are exactly what you’ve wanted to hear, but there’s still a part of you that’s scared—scared to believe him, scared to fall for this all over again. You take a step back, trying to distance yourself from the emotions that have flooded your chest.

“How do I know?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper but carrying the weight of every question you’ve been holding onto. “How do I know this time is going to be different? How do I know you’re not just saying what I want to hear, again?”

He pauses, his face tightening for a brief moment, before his eyes soften, his sincerity cutting through the uncertainty. “All I can do is prove it to you,” he says quietly. His words are steady, but there’s an ache beneath them, something that makes your heart skip. “I can’t change the past, but I can damn sure try to make up for it.”

He glances toward his truck, his hand dropping to the side before he looks back at you. “I brought an extra bag with me this time,” he says, his voice steady with a quiet determination. “I was hoping you’d let me leave it here. Maybe when I come back in a couple weeks I could come back with the rest of my stuff…and that you’ll let me stay.” He looks at you, his eyes open and honest, no pretense, no bravado—just the raw truth of a man who wants nothing more than to rebuild what he lost.

You feel the sharp sting of his words sink into you, and for a moment, you’re speechless. Tyler Owens, the man who once seemed so lost, so unsure of anything but the moment, is telling you he’s ready to plan. You feel the ground beneath you shift as he continues.

“I’ve talked to Boone, Lily, Dexter, and Dani about it,” he says, almost as if it’s something he’s already put in motion. “I’ve been thinking about moving up here, about making it work. I know it’s not just about me anymore. I know what I did, and I know what it’s going to take for you to trust me again. I want to be here, with you. And I’ve already been figuring out how I can make it work with storm chasing. With the team.”

The weight of his words hits you like a freight train. Tyler, who’d never seemed the type to plan, to make a life out of more than just surviving, is telling you that he’s thought ahead. He’s thought about you—about living with you. The logistics of his work, where he’d fit in with the team, how he could make it all work—things he’d never even considered before.

He never once brought up the idea of moving in, of building a future with you, before. Now, he’s here, telling you that he’s ready. And as much as your heart aches with uncertainty, something inside of you can’t help but feel the tiniest thread of hope tugging at you.

You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to find the right words, trying to keep your guard up, even as your heart beats louder with each passing second.

“How do I know this is real?” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly.

Tyler’s eyes are locked on yours, his expression soft and full of sincerity, the words that leave his lips quiet but sure. “You’ll know by what I do. Not by what I say.”

As you stand there, the flickering hope mingling with every guarded part of you, you can’t hold back anymore. You have to ask him, to hear him explain it in a way that might finally make sense.

“Why, Tyler?” you say, your voice laced with hurt and frustration. “Why do you do this? The hot and cold? Coming back and then leaving just when I start to trust that you’ll stay? Why am I never enough for you to choose me?”

Your words hang in the air, heavy, but Tyler doesn’t flinch. He looks at you, and for a moment, you see something raw and vulnerable cross his face—an expression you don’t think you’ve seen before. He takes a shaky breath, his hands running through his hair as he struggles to find the words.

“It’s not that you’re not enough,” he says, his voice soft but resolute. “You’ve always been enough—more than enough. It’s me who hasn’t been enough. I’ve been scared… scared of needing someone the way I need you, of letting myself feel things that deep. I kept convincing myself that I’d be fine on my own, that I didn’t need anyone, but that was never true.”

He pauses, glancing away before he meets your gaze again, his eyes intense and filled with regret.

“Seeing you moving on, watching you with him tonight…” He trails off, swallowing hard. “It made me feel something I never want to feel again. The thought of you with anyone else—it made me sick. It took almost losing you for me to see that I can’t keep doing this. That if I kept running, I was going to lose you, really lose you. And I’d have no one to blame but myself.”

He reaches for your hand, his fingers hesitant at first, as if he’s waiting for you to pull away. When you don’t, he takes your hand fully, his grip firm yet gentle.

“I know it doesn’t excuse anything,” he admits, voice heavy with sincerity. “I know I messed up. But being without you, thinking I’d lost you for good… it’s been hell. And if there’s any part of you that can still trust me, even a little, I want to show you that I’m ready to be here for real. To stay. I can’t keep running from the one thing that matters most to me.”

Tyler’s gaze doesn’t waver from yours as he takes a slow step closer, his hands resting at his sides, waiting. He opens his mouth, then closes it, the tension in the air so thick you could almost touch it. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, but you can hear the vulnerability underneath.

"Please, just… give me a chance," he says, his words hanging in the air.

You swallow hard, your heart caught in a war between hope and doubt. You’ve been hurt before, but everything in you is screaming to believe him. You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that’s happened, everything that’s led to this moment. And then you open your eyes again, meeting his gaze.

"Tyler," you begin, your voice softer now, but still firm. "This is your last chance. If you mess this up, there’s no coming back from it. I can’t keep doing this. I won’t."

He nods immediately, his face lighting up with the smallest hint of relief. "I swear, I won’t. I won’t mess it up." His voice is more confident now, as if something in him has shifted—something that wasn’t there before.

You feel a knot in your chest loosen, though doubt still clings at the edges. But as you stand there, looking at him—really looking at him, all of the pain, the fear, and the uncertainty—starts to fade away. It’s like for the first time in so long, you feel like you can let your guard down, just a little. You give a small nod, the corners of your lips lifting despite the tears threatening to fall.

"I’m trusting you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t make me regret it."

Tyler doesn’t say a word. Instead, he steps in closer, his hands gently cupping your face, as if he’s scared you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on to you. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, a slow, tender motion. The air between you both feels charged, full of something real, something raw, something that hasn’t been there in so long.

And then, without another word, he leans down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that’s soft but intense. His mouth moves against yours with such tenderness, like he’s trying to pour everything into it—his apology, his promises, his love—everything he’s been holding back. You melt into the kiss, feeling his warmth, his sincerity, his desire for you.

The kiss deepens slowly, as if testing the waters, but it’s gentle, filled with the kind of care and emotion that you’ve been missing for so long. And in that moment, all of the fear and doubt you’ve been carrying seems to dissolve, replaced by something that feels like home.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both stand there for a few moments, foreheads resting against each other, breathing the same air. Tyler smiles against your skin, and you can feel the weight of everything shifting.

"I won’t mess this up," he whispers again, his voice thick with emotion. And for the first time in a long while, you believe him.

[hvnyrt]

Request: Jason is surprisingly affectionate in private

JASON TOOD X GN! READER

SUMMARY: You're tired, Jason takes care of you

WARNINGS: None, enjoy!

WC: 1.4k 

The door to your apartment closed softly behind you as you stepped inside, your body feeling heavy with the weight of the day. Gotham’s chaos had seeped into everything—into your bones, into your mind. You were physically and emotionally drained, barely able to summon the energy to hang your coat or kick off your boots. The city had a way of exhausting you, of leaving you with nothing to give. It had been one of those weeks—long hours, too much stress, too many things left undone.

But when you entered your living room, you didn’t expect to find him here. Jason Todd. You didn’t even know he was coming over.

He was sprawled out on your couch, leaning back with one leg draped over the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at his phone. There was a mug of coffee on the table in front of him, untouched, cooling. The lights were low, casting a soft glow that made the apartment feel more like a refuge than the outside world ever could.

You paused for a moment, not wanting to disturb him—until you noticed the way his posture changed when he heard you enter. His eyes flicked up from his phone, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, quickly replaced by something softer, more concerned.

"Long day?" he asked, his voice quiet, low, the usual edge replaced by a gentler tone.

You nodded, dropping your things in the entryway with a tired sigh. “It’s been a week,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes. “I’m... exhausted.”

Jason didn’t respond right away. He just looked you over, his eyes narrowing slightly as he registered the exhaustion on your face, the way your shoulders sagged in defeat. He was used to seeing people at their worst, but he wasn’t used to seeing you like this. Not like this.

“Come here,” he said, his voice no longer playful but soft, almost commanding in the way he said it.

You glanced at him, too tired to argue, and slowly made your way over to the couch. Jason shifted, sitting up straighter, making space beside him. Without saying anything, he reached out and pulled your legs onto his lap, arranging them carefully like he was afraid you might pull away, like he was trying to be gentle with you in a way he wasn’t always.

“Sit,” he repeated, this time with a soft insistence, as if his only goal was to make sure you found some comfort.

You hesitated for only a moment before sitting down next to him, sinking into the couch. He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile before grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over both of you. The weight of it was comforting, the fabric soft and warm. His arm naturally settled around your shoulders, pulling you closer, a silent invitation to rest against him.

"You’re too stubborn," he muttered, more to himself than to you, but the words were gentle, like a small reprimand for not taking better care of yourself. His fingers rubbed at the back of your neck, slow and soothing. "You push yourself too hard. You need to slow down."

You leaned your head against his chest, letting out a soft breath, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. The exhaustion was still there, but now it felt distant. For the first time all day, you didn’t feel like you had to be on alert. With him beside you, the weight of everything seemed lighter.

“I don’t know how to stop sometimes,” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. “I just keep going. Even when I’m running on empty.”

Jason didn’t say anything for a while. Instead, his hand moved from your neck to your back, rubbing in slow, comforting circles as if trying to ease away the tension that had built up over the course of the week. You could feel the softness in his touch, the way he wasn’t rushing to do anything—just being present.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” His words were quiet but firm. "Let me take care of you for once. Let me help."

You swallowed, your throat tight at the unexpected vulnerability in his voice. It wasn’t often that Jason opened up like this. He had walls, thick and impenetrable, built from years of hurt. But tonight, he seemed to be letting those walls fall, just a little.

His hand slid down your arm, pulling you even closer to him, until your head was tucked under his chin. The rhythm of his breath steadied yours, and you felt something in your chest—something warm and soft—begin to unfold.

“You’re always the one taking care of everyone else,” Jason said, his voice barely a whisper. “But you deserve to be taken care of too. I’m not going anywhere. Let me help.”

You closed your eyes, trying to push away the tightness that had settled in your chest, the overwhelming feeling that had accompanied the last few days. But his touch, the heat of his body against yours, seemed to make the anxiety fade away, leaving only calm in its wake.

“Thank you,” you murmured, not sure if you were thanking him for the moment of peace, or for his willingness to show up when you least expected it. But the gratitude was there, unspoken but felt all the same.

Jason didn’t respond. Instead, he reached over and grabbed your tea mug from the side table, gently pressing it into your hands. “Drink. It’ll help you relax.”

You took the mug, the warmth of the tea seeping into your cold hands. You sipped it slowly, savoring the way it warmed you from the inside. Jason sat quietly beside you, his fingers still tracing small, comforting patterns on your arm as he watched you. There was no rush, no pressure to talk, to be anything other than what you were in that moment. He was giving you space to breathe, to let go.

As the tea worked its magic, you felt the tension begin to melt away. Your eyelids grew heavy, your body sinking deeper into the couch as Jason adjusted, his body angling closer to yours.

“Lie down,” he said softly, shifting you slightly so you were resting more comfortably on the couch. “You need sleep. You need to rest.”

You didn’t argue. It was too much to argue with him when you felt this good—when his care wrapped around you like a blanket, giving you the comfort you’d been lacking.

He rearranged the pillows behind your head, making sure you were propped up just enough. His hand was never far from you, always resting somewhere on your body, as though he couldn’t quite stop touching you. He wasn’t smothering you, though. It was a subtle, gentle thing—just enough to reassure you that he was there.

You closed your eyes, your body relaxed in a way you hadn’t felt in days. The weight of the world was slowly lifting, and with Jason beside you, you felt safe.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’ll be here. Just sleep.”

You nodded, too tired to say anything more. His hand shifted again, this time moving to your cheek, brushing a stray hair away as he gently cupped your face in his palm. His thumb traced over your skin, soft and slow, and for a moment, it felt like he was taking in every detail of you—every part of you that had been worn down, that needed healing.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Jason leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. The touch was tender, almost reverent, and when he pulled away, you could feel the gentle brush of his breath against your skin.

“Sleep,” he whispered again, the words a soothing balm.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, and you let yourself drift into sleep, the warmth of Jason’s presence grounding you, keeping you safe in the quiet moments. As you drifted off, you could still feel the steady rhythm of his hand on your back, the softness in his touch, the care he was offering so freely. You didn’t need to say anything more. Tonight, Jason had given you what you needed most: peace, tenderness, and a reminder that you weren’t alone.

[alex51324]

Now, more than ever, we need to be careful about spreading misinformation and rumors

I can guarantee that over the next few months, we'll be hearing about a lot of alarming things going on here in the US. Some of those things will be true, and some won't. (And some will have both true and false or exaggerated elements.)

It's going to be absolutely vital that important information is not drowned out by misinformation, rumors, and ragebait.

That means, when you see something that would be important if true, before sharing, you check whether it's actually true.

In library world, we use the acronym SIFT:

STOP: Don't spread the information, or get caught up in your emotional reaction to it, before you've checked it out. INVESTIGATE: Who is saying it? How do they know? If there are links or sources in the post, do they actually say what the person is saying they do? FIND other coverage: Do an internet search for key details: quotes, people's names, specific locations. If something major is happening, there will normally be a lot of coverage. TRACE claims, quotes, and media back to their original context.

Usually you don't need to do all four things: just STOP and then pick what makes sense from the other three. If you decide to share the information, you can also say what you did--"This is a firsthand account from XYZ protest; it lines up with what the local TV station is saying, but has a lot more details about what the cops did," or whatever.

The more urgent the information seems, the more important it is to make sure it's reliable.

If we're hearing every other day that this or that vulnerable group is in immediate, life-threatening danger--but 49 times out of 50 it turns out to mean Trump rambled somewhere about something which, if actually implemented, could end up having the described consequences at some point down the line--then people aren't going to know the difference the one time in 50 when the danger really is immediate.

Think, here, things like immigration crackdowns, CPS investigations into parents who affirm a trans child's gender, or demands that health care providers report miscarriages to law enforcement. We all know that these are things Trump World talks about a lot and would like to be able to do, in some form. For the sake of the people affected by these topics, we need different ways of talking about, "Here they are, back on their bullshit," versus, "This is a policy proposal for a real thing that could happen," versus, "Holy shit, grab the kids and run."

We cannot go to "Holy shit, grab the kids and run" every time Trump, or someone in his inner circle, decides to bloviate about something that could disastrously affect people lives. The people who are most in danger can't stay at DefCon 5 every day of their lives, and when they do really have to grab the kids and run, we need that alarm to be heard over the constant background hum of dread.

The same goes for action items--whether protests, ways to help, or little things people can do to stay safe/sane. There's going to be plenty going on, and nobody is going to be able to do everything, so do your part by passing along those things that you can vouch are true and important, and skipping the things you aren't sure about.

I'll leave you with an example. Remember how a few years ago, we were all-in about hand hygiene and disinfecting surfaces? And then it turned out that those were not actually very important in terms of preventing the transmission of COVID-19, and what we really need is better air filtration in public spaces--but, at my work at least, we still have canisters of surface-disinfecting wipes sitting around, and tattered old signs up about hand hygiene, and no air filters.

At the time, early in the pandemic, we were sharing the best information we knew about how to stay safe, but people got a little too fixated on that initial advice--remember how people would wipe down their groceries? And those little sticks for pressing elevator buttons?--and then when the advice changed, they didn't want to hear about it.

Distrust, fatigue, superstitious attachment to the old grocery-wiping ways--there were a lot of reasons, but the key thing to take away is that attention, energy, and goodwill are all finite resources. Try to avoid wasting it with grocery-wiping--or worse, shilling for the guy selling little sticks to press elevator buttons with.

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Hey gang, so yesterday was a fucking shitshow, and even here across the pond I'm still reeling from it. I'm scared of what's gonna happen next, and I can only imagine how horrified everyone over there is. Support and love to all of my followers who are going to be suffering from whatever utter bullshit trump decides to do. Queer and trans people, people of colour, disabled people, women - everyone who isn't a cishet white man. I see you. I'm here for you, even if all I can provide is snogging books and cat photos.

Saying all of that: I am so, so thankful to everyone who reblogged this post (and others like it), who bought All the Painted Stars, who talked about it, and those who started following me this past week. It's been a horror show, and I'm so grateful for people who found a little bit of space for my sword lesbians amongst the mess 💖

Things are horrible, and I personally am terrified about the future of queer publishing in the US, but it makes me feel so hopeful to know that people out there want my books, no matter what the orange shithead in charge tries to do.

Stay strong. Don't let the bastards get you down. Live. And if a man who thinks he gets to tell you what to do just because he's a man tries to stop you, threaten him with a sword.

the problem with having a book out the same day as the US elections is that it's like..... hey, so, i see you're struggling through the unending horrors. can i offer you some nice sword lesbians in these trying times? 😬

[lgbtlunaverse]

I feel like too often people frame Nie Mingjue's issues as ignorance borne from safety. Like, they think that because of his privilege as a sect leader he doesn't know what it's like to be in danger and forced to make hard choices to survive. And I disagree. Strongly.

First of all, Nie Mingjue is very familiar with death not only from war but from. You know. Actively dying since the age of fourteen. Let us not forget Nie Mingjue is dead! Super dead! And maybe he didn't die the exact way he expected to but he did, absolutely, know he was going to die. To act like Nie Mingjue is unfamiliar with the scenario of "do something you find morally reprehensible or die" is to ignore that he has been living that exact scenario and chose death.

Nie Mingjue knows death is a risk for someone like Jin guangyao, in fact he explicitly acknowledges it even in his worst moments like the stairs in chapter 49. Had his issue been ignorance, then he would've responded to Jin Guangyao saying that he's in danger and has to sacrifice others for his own safety with "No you aren't you'll be fine." But he doesn't. He accepts the fact that jgy is in danger with no qualms and says: then you should die.

That's not him betraying his values, those are his values. He is, essentially, pro-suicide. Jgy is like hey I have a moral dilemma what should I do and nmj straight up goes "Kill yourself" and earlier that same chapter when he was faced with a moral dilemma he went "I'm gonna kill myself." He believes the solution to moral dilemmas is suicide! He is extremely consistent about this! When it's pointed out to him that it would have been dangerous for Wen Qing to oppose Wen Ruohan it doesn't phase him because he thinks putting yourself at risk to do the right thing is the only moral choice. The idea that he can only hold this belief because he is himself somehow not in danger, again, requires you to ignore that he is dying the whole time. And it doesn't deter him. He is the idea of self-sacrifice as a moral good taken to its absolute logical extreme. Someone who is ready to die and demands the same from everyone else.

It makes him a very fun case study for fandom, because a lot of fandom spaces also tend to revere self-sacrifice as the ultimate good, and yet we get very uncomfortable when someone starts demanding it of characters we love. Like woah, hold on, that's a bit too far isn't it? Only we the audience get to do that!

[theonlyhonoredone]

Yuji BF Headcanons

Pairing: Yuji Itadori x Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: my idea of how Yuji is as a partner

Masterlist

bf!Yuji is crushing hard, he’s down so bad it’s actually pathetic. He fumbles his words in front of you, stutters when he tries to compliment you, and is the first to like any and everything you post. He thinks you’re the funniest person alive and sticks to you like velcro. He’s always asking if you want to hang out or train or anything else he can do to get you in the same room as him. He waits for the absolute perfect opportunity to ask you out, either taking you to some big festival or saving up for months to take you to some fancy restaurant.

bf!Yuji who fakes being totally confident when he asks and then freaks out when you say yes. He’s gasping and asking if you really mean it and then hugging you so tight you almost pass out. Things fall into place quickly after that, you two are a natural fit.

bf!Yuji always keeps you on your toes. He likes for dates to be really special and exciting so he always wants to do something grand. He won't admit it to you, but he knows he's going to die young. He's living on an extended death sentence which means he won't get the long happy life he truly wants with you. He hopes to create as many special and lasting memories with you as he can, hoping that he'll be able to relive them on his death bed and you'll be able to find comfort in them when he's gone.

bf!Yuji does not consider nights in or casual hang outs as dates because they aren't special enough. That doesn't mean he loves those moments any less though, in fact nights in with you are one of his favorite things on earth. The man is glued to you 24/7 so of course he’s excited for any chance to cuddle. He needs every part of his body to touch every part of yours, he’ll smother you any chance he gets. If you have to get up to pee or anything really he’s whining and asking you to stay. He gives you the sad puppy eyes whenever you escape from his arms and pouts until you return to him.

bf!Yuji uses his crazy athletic ability to show off to you any chance he can get. He’s always telling you to watch him do something he's sure you'll find impressive. He'll offer to carry you everywhere you go. He gets butterflies every time you call him strong or tell him how cool he is. If you go to an arcade he will drag you over to every game that involves any amount of athletic ability and make you watch him set a new high score. You always love it, except for the time he broke a machine and got you kicked out.

bf!Yuji is constantly coming up with new pet names for you. They are sometimes sweet but more often over the top and totally ridiculous. He’s constantly changing your name in his phone too, and he spends hours editing pictures of you to make your profile picture. He likes adding all sorts of little stickers and drawing little hearts around your face.

bf!Yuji also loves to post these and add a long caption calling you his little schmoopy schnookums pie while he declares his undying love for you. His over the top gestures are how he shows you that you’re always on his mind. He doesn’t care if anyone else thinks it’s embarrassing or cringy, he just cares that you know how much he loves you. He loves you so much that he sometimes feels like he might explode if he doesn’t express it. 

bf!Yuji is clingy to the point of annoyance. You do have to remind him that you need space and time alone and while he might not understand (he wants to spend every moment with you), he respects your needs and wants. He wants you to be happy all the time and if that means leaving you alone for a few hours then he will.

bf!Yuji tries his best to let the two of you have quiet moments together too. Even though he is a yapper at heart, he manages to sit for hours without saying a word, sometimes. As time goes on he starts to treasure these moments and find a lot of comfort in just sitting beside you, not talking about anything. It’s enough just knowing you're right there with him.

bf!Yuji is not the kind of person to get insecure. He's more nervous in the begging of your relationship, but once you tell him you love him the first time that flies out the window. You love him and he loves you and to him that’s enough to know things will always work out.

bf!Yuji gets incredibly anxious anytime he has to buy you a gift. Birthdays and holidays are a nightmare for him. He never knows what to get you and will spend hours pacing around countless stores to find the perfect gift. He tries to remind himself that it’s the thought that counts and that you’re always happy with what he gets you, but it never settles his nerves. He’ll second guess himself until the moment he hands the gift over. Watching your lips curl up into a big smile as you open it up is what finally makes him relax.

bf!Yuji is never possessive and almost never jealous. The only thing that really makes him jealous is when you go to the movies without him. It doesn’t matter who you’re going with either, he's jealous. He loves the movies and he loves you so of course he loves going to the movies with you. He’ll never admit he's jealous, but he’ll definitely pout and tell you how much how much he wanted to see the film. Of course you can see right through him and will always offer to go see it again with him. That always brings him back to his usual chipper self. 

bf!Yuji turns into the biggest baby when he gets sick. The common cold is a death sentence as far as he is concerned. The only possible cure is you feeding him soup and rubbing his back. He will beg for snuggles and kisses but dramatically tell you not to come near him so you can’t catch whatever deadly virus he has when you actually try. As soon as he’s better though he’s expecting you to help him make up for lost time by letting him smother you to his heart's content. 

bf!Yuji will do literally anything for you. He’d figure out how to rearrange the planets if that was what you wanted, and he'd do it with a smile. If you need help with anything at all he wants to be your first call. You want to redecorate your room? Call Yuji. You want a late night snack? Call Yuji. You want to rob a bank? Call Yuji. He's the definition of ride or die and he never lets you forget how treasured you are.

[lxndonorris]

much needed break - Lando Norris

Y/N x Lando Norris Theme: Angst/Fluff distracting Lando from social media word count: 1700+

The last rays of sunlight are casting a warm, golden glow through the wide windows of Lando's living room, illuminating the chic but comfortable space that has become almost as much a home for you as it is for him. 

Monaco, with its sparkling blue waters and luxurious life, is a world apart from the intensity of the F1 circuits, yet it can't completely chase away the shadows left by last weekend's race in Brazil.

You step into the living room, spotting him immediately, slouched on the sofa, a hoodie pulled up over his messy curls, sweatpants, and socks, completing his relaxed look. 

His attention is absorbed by the screen of his phone, his face half-lit by its soft glow, and even from across the room, you can see the slight frown creasing his brows. 

He looks up briefly as you approach, giving you a small, half-hearted smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. There is a heaviness hanging in the room, one you know all too well.

Without a word, you sit down beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body but not so close as to intrude. You gently lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder, just watching him, letting him feel your presence.

"What are you up to?" You ask, keeping your voice soft and casual, as though you are just enjoying a quiet moment together.

"Oh, nothing," he replies quickly, glancing away. But his voice holds a strain, and his fingers are white-knuckled around the phone. 

He tries to shift his body slightly, as if to hide the screen from your view, but you catch a glimpse of the comments he is scrolling through.

You know exactly what he is doing. It is always the same pattern when things don't go well on track—no matter how many times you tell him not to, he'll always go looking for those negative comments, taking in every word, every hurtful critique.

You feel a pang in your chest seeing how hard he takes it, how deeply he allows it to affect him.

Without a second thought, you reach over and gently snatch the phone from his hands. 

Lando lets out a protest, reaching for it instinctively, but you hold it out of reach, flashing him a playful, determined look.

"Lando," you say softly, yet firmly, "you shouldn't read those comments. You know it never does any good."

He huffs, crossing his arms and letting out a reluctant sigh.

"It's not that bad," he mumbles, his gaze dropping to his lap. But the crack in his voice, the way he avoids meeting your eyes, tells you otherwise.

It hurts to see him like this, this strong, talented person you know feeling so vulnerable.

You lock his phone without another glance at the screen and slip it into your pocket, feeling him deflate beside you, as if he'd just relinquished some hidden weight he had been carrying.

"You're right," he admits quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "But I just... I can't help it sometimes."

You open your arms, inviting him in, and for a moment, he hesitates. But then, his defenses fall, and he leans into you, letting you hold him close.

He wraps his arms around you, his hands gently resting against your back, and you can feel the tension slowly melting from his body.

"It's okay," you whisper, rubbing his back gently, your fingers tracing soothing circles. "You're more than what those people online think. You've done so well this season, and no matter the outcome isn't going to change that."

He sighs, the sound almost lost in the space between you.

"I know, I just... I don't want to let anyone down."

Your heart clenches at his words.

Lando always holds himself to such high standards, always worried about letting down his team, his fans, even himself. You can tell the weight of it is heavy on his shoulders.

You slide your hands underneath his hoodie, feeling his warmth against your cold fingertips. He lets out a surprised laugh at the sudden chill, wiggling away slightly but not enough to break the embrace.

You chuckle, trailing your hands along his chest and feeling him relax again, his breathing slowing as he allows himself to let go. His head rests against your shoulder, and you feel his body sink into yours, surrendering to the comfort and warmth you share.

"You're doing so well, Lando," you murmur, your fingers tracing the lines of his back, the tension melting away under your touch. "I'm so proud of you, and I don't think anything less of you because of one bad race."

He nods slowly, his curls brushing your cheek as he settles deeper into your arms.

"I guess... I guess it's just hard sometimes to ignore it all. I feel like everyone's watching, and every mistake is magnified." His voice is soft, laced with vulnerability.

You press a gentle kiss to his forehead, your hand moving up to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint shadow of a stubble.

"But you don't have to carry that alone. I'm here, and I see you for who you are—not for your results on track. And I know so many people who feel the same."

He looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispers, his voice breaking slightly.

"You don't have to worry about that," you say with a smile, your fingers tracing soft patterns along his jawline. "I'm not going anywhere."

He shifts closer, his head coming to rest against your chest as he closes his eyes, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips. You feel his heartbeat slow, his breathing deepen as he begins to let go of worries that have been plaguing him.

For a while, you just lay there, wrapped up in each other, letting the quiet settle around you. Your fingers continue their gentle journey, stroking his hair, tracing the line of his cheekbone, his lips. He is lost in thought, you can tell, but there is a peace in his expression now, a softening of the lines of stress and worry.

"You know," you murmur after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. "I've watched you grow so much this season. You've overcome so many challenges, and that's what really matters."

Lando nods, his eyes still closed, his breathing deep and even.

"I guess I just want to make everyone proud. Make you proud."

You lean down, your lips brushing softly against his. 

"I am already proud of you," you whisper. "Not just for what you do on track, but for who you are—your determination, your kindness, your resilience, your humor. That's what makes you so amazing."

His arms tighten around you, a silent acknowledgement, a thank you that doesn't need words. You feel his fingers trace slow, gentle lines along your back, his hand brushing against your waist, grounding himself in your connection.

It is in these moments that you see the man behind the racer, the vulnerability he so rarely shows to the world. And you love him all the more for it.

You stay there, wrapped in each other's arms as the evening light softens, your breaths syncing in a gentle rhythm. He closes his eyes, his head nestled against you, and you feel his worries fading, replaced by a peace you know he finds only with you. 

And you realize that, as much as he thinks he needs you, you need him just as much.

Lando shifts, settling himself more comfortably, his head resting gently on your lap. A soft hum escapes his lips, a sound of pure contentment that makes your heart swell.

You can tell he is finally starting to unwind, to let go of the weight he'd been carrying since the race. His eyes are closed, and a faint smile curves at the edges of his lips, softening his whole expression.

You let your hand slip under his hoodie once again, your fingertips brushing along his warm skin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each relaxed breath. 

He shivers slightly at your touch, but it isn't from the cold this time—it is from the warmth and comfort you share in this moment together.

Lando's smile grows as he adjusts, placing one of his hands on his thigh, his fingers curling slightly as if to hold onto this feeling. His other hand rests just beside yours on his stomach, and you feel his fingers twitch, brushing against yours.

Gently, you slide your hand further under his hoodie, fingers tracing small, soft circles across his skin, feeling the warmth radiate from him.

He opens his eyes briefly, looking up at you with a softness and gratitude that makes your breath hitch. Then he closes them again, a peaceful smile gracing his face as he settles deeper into your lap, his body completely at ease. 

The quiet hum of his voice, his gentle breathing, the closeness you share—all of it feels so incredibly precious.

"You know," he murmurs after a while, his voice a lazy drawl, "I could get used to this."

You chuckle, running your hand slowly across his stomach, feeling the warmth, the steady rise and fall of his breaths beneath your touch.

"Oh yeah?" You tease, your fingers brushing just under his ribcage. "Then you should let yourself rest more often."

He lets out a soft chuckle, the sound vibrating against your hand.

"Maybe I will, if I have you around," he replies, his voice soft and warm.

He opens his eyes again, looking up at you with that familiar twinkle, the one that tells you he is feeling more himself again.

You feel his fingers drift up, tracing light patterns along your wrist. His touch is warm and grounding. 

Leaning down, you brush a kiss against his forehead, feeling him smile beneath the touch.

His head nestles in your lap, the weight of him grounding you just as much as you ground him. In this moment, everything else—races, comments, expectations—fades away.

All that matters is the two of you, right there, sharing this moment of quiet, unspoken love.

[brainscrems]

Has it occurred to u that they’re maybe NOT talking about leftists talking about power dynamics? That post gave no context specifically, but your immediate assumption is that it’s bullshit. Cause, I gotta say, before coming out as a trans woman that IS shit I experienced in leftist spaces! Rad fems are not as rare as you may think, and there exist those who see trans women as women. And, even if this IS simply what you think it is, there is another question we must ask. We know that leftist spaces have tons of infighting. We know they jump on people for misunderstandings. We know they go after people trying to learn because they make mistakes in the process. Is it at all possible that, even if this guy’s complaints aren’t accurate per se, there are systemic issues in leftist spaces need to address to make them welcoming to people who are trying to deradicalize themselves from right-wing propaganda? Cause that’s the real point, isn’t it? That leftist spaces are so closed off that people get driven into the hateful pieces of shit because they’ll take anyone. They’ll give purpose and direction and community and bring in disaffected people to their cause by telling them it’s not their fault but the jews/women/black people/brown people/whoever. Clearly, just by the numbers, there has been a collective failure of our message to reach men and we need to figure out how that can be changed. Insisting that someone who has experienced this failure first hand and eventually came back to the other side is wrong about how he, and others like him, experience our message is the height of hubris. You’re so focused on insisting you know what he’s hearing and why he’s mishearing it you never stopped to consider that maybe his primary experience w leftists is radfems. Worse, you never even stopped to consider that if this is his experience, and, as he reports, the experience of others like him, what it means about how we as a movement COMMUNICATE. If our message is not connecting with a demographic because they all interpret it as personal attacks, then maybe we should work on changing up the way we give our message. You can say we shouldn’t have to all you want, but this election demonstrated quite clearly that if we DON’T work to deradicaloze straight white men, they’re going to make our lives a whole lot worse. So instead of ridiculing this guy ask what we can do better to make ourselves less off putting without compromising on our goals. What can we do about our language to being people into the fold? How can we make people feel good about joining us instead of guilt for what they’re a part of? That’s the real answer. Because it’s not about if what he’s said is true or not. It’s about what his view means about how our movement is failing.

what is this "as someone who escaped the alt right pipeline" failpost I've seen so many people vague about

[kanagenwrites]

So. Tuesday sucked.

We've all had a chance to come down from the "what the fuck" of it all, and we're starting to see the usual circular firing squad. Lots of lib centrists are doing everything they can to throw trans people, minorities, and basically anyone who isn't a finance bro under the bus, as is (very tiresome) tradition after both victories and defeats in the Democratic Party. I will be 42 years old in a few months, so this is far from the first time I've seen it, and sadly, I'm sure it won't be the last. To the lib centrists and those carrying water for them: This never works. Please stop trying it. Trans issues were not a major motivator; I'll get into that below. Sit down, kids, it's time for Auntie Kana's Fireside Dialectics.

One thing I've noticed is that a lot of my followers are significantly younger than me. (Imagine that, an audience that skews young on Tumblr.) A lot of you folks probably haven't been following politics for very long, and you've been able to participate in them for even less time than that. For some of you this is probably your first election as an adult, and it kinda feels like everything blew up in your face, doesn't it? I was about your age for 2000, when the election was nakedly stolen by George W. Bush, and not much older for 2004, when despite his disastrous presidency Bush the Younger rode a wave of 9/11-brained racism to the last popular vote victory the GOP had prior to (likely) this year. So I get it. I really do.

If you're living in the USA you have probably had a subpar education in politics and civics. This is largely by design - education is horrendously underfunded and there is a sustained attack on the ability of teachers to even discuss things like the Civil Rights Movement, the legacy of slavery in the United States, the genocide this country was founded on, and so on and so forth. Economic education isn't much better; you very likely got a short lecture on basic supply and demand and an argument-from-authority that "socialism doesn't work." All this combines to leave a lot of folks totally baffled as to how something like this election happens.

But it's pretty simple. It's just material conditions. That's it. What the media isn't telling you (because there's no profit in it, and the media is nothing but a clickbait engine when they aren't open propagandists) is that there has been a massive anti-incumbent wave of elections across the world. How massive? Japan's LDP, which has held power almost uninterrupted since the establishment of Japan's postwar democracy, managed to lose their recent election.

And why are material conditions so shitty? That's a complicated question, but a lot of it is the fact that we had a lengthy period of low inflation followed by a period of extremely high inflation due to the absolutely botched response to the Covid-19 pandemic. A bag of Doritos used to be 2.50, and now it's like 6 bucks. That's worse than all the inflation (and naked price-gouging, because there's a lot of that going on too) I experienced in my life prior to 2020, squeezed into the space of a year or two. This smacks everyone in the face every time they buy groceries, and while the government and the Federal Reserve were doing everything they could to manage inflation (and understand what a big deal it is for me, the anarcho-communist, to say that the US actually did an extremely fucking good job of doing it, because every other country on Earth had it worse than we did), they did fuck all to actually improve the material conditions people were experiencing. Wages were not keeping up with the cost of living, and price-gouging wasn't being dealt with.

Remember the 600 bucks Joe Biden still owes you? The American electorate sure the fuck does. Invisible backrooms liberal wonkery does not connect, regardless of whether it works or not, but going back on a promise? People remember that shit.

It's a rare incumbent that could win in an environment like this, especially when tied to a track record of doing exactly fucking nothing to actually help people from the perspective of the vast majority of the population. Kamala Harris was not that incumbent. She was a singularly uninspiring candidate who failed to connect with voters so thoroughly that she was on track to lose her home state in the 2020 Democratic primary. Nobody liked her (except a few very eager and very loud fans in the K-Hive), and speaking as someone who lives in California, I am not surprised she ate shit. She was a terrible choice for VP and a terrible choice of successor for Biden, but because Biden('s handlers) insisted on pretending he wasn't obviously declining before our very eyes, Harris, a singularly uninspiring candidate, had three months to build and run a campaign.

And it was still weirdly close.

Now, there's two possibilities: Either she actually ran an amazing campaign and it's incredible that it was even this close, or Trump is just so loathsome that even in a massively anti-incumbent environment he didn't bring anyone new to the table. Given that Trump is on-track to receive less votes this time than he did in 2020, and how many of those votes seem to have been cast for Trump and no one else down-ballot, I think it's more of the latter than the former. Trump brought the usual suspects, while Kamala successfully drove away voters that even Joe fucking Biden and Hillary fucking Clinton were able to bring home. Not on the left, not in minority demographics, but across the board. After all, if things are horrible and you're being promised that "nothing will fundamentally change," (literally an early-presidency quote from Joe Biden, whose agenda Kamala Harris 100% aligned herself with) and keeping in mind that the average American voter is not nearly so plugged into the minutiae and the day to day of politics (as evinced by the sudden peak in google searched for "Did Joe Biden drop out?" on Tuesday), why the fuck would you bother to vote?

Hopefully you have a better idea how we got here now. The question, of course, is where do we go from here? I will probably continue posting about this from time to time, especially if there's interest, but my advice is this:

We are still here. We will be here tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and so on. Plan accordingly.

Things will get fucked up. Things will always get fucked up. That is the nature of things no matter who is running the government. Plan accordingly.

Organize. Develop parallel structures of power and assistance, because the government is likely going to be even more useless to directly assist you than it already was. Our greatest strength is each other, and our ability to care for and help one another.

I have been here before. You will be here again. It always feels like it's the worst thing ever to happen. That never really goes away, but your ability to deal with it, to plan around it, to endure it, and to rise up again on the other side of it and say "No, fuck you" is entirely under your control and within your capabilities. And you will get better at it as you do it. And you are not doing it alone. None of us are.

Do not give up. Do not surrender. This isn't the end, or the beginning of the end, or even the end of the beginning: it just is.

Now go watch a video of a cat doing something cute, or read some smut, or whatever gives you joy. You can't take care of others unless you take care of yourself. That's General Order #1: Take care of yourself.

Solidarity, y'all.

[perfectlyoongi]

SUGAR-DADDY!JIMIN who always finds an excuse to see you. he knew he could text you and you’d show up quickly – that was your dynamic. but Jimin also liked to surprise you every now and then. so, when you were too focused on your life to remember him, Jimin would show up at your house with a new outfit for you to wear to a surprise dinner; or Jimin would show up at your work with a bouquet of flowers wanting to decorate your professional space; or Jimin would even show up at the restaurant door after you went to dinner with your friends offering you a ride home. it didn’t matter, honestly, Jimin had no limit when it came to coming up with excuses to see you. he lives next to a market but he went to your house to ask you for eggs? those are small details. what do you mean he had already delivered lunch to you today? are you sure it wasn’t the elf? “i heard that the electricity went out in this part of the city. i came to see if you need anything? maybe take you out for a quick dinner? what do you say?”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIMIN who always asks you where you want to travel. When you started your relationship, Jimin offered you a white map of the world and said he wanted to color it with you. as such, whenever there was a possibility of a trip out of town, Jimin would ask in advance where you wanted to go. he was determined to go see the world with you, eager to leave traces of your caresses in so many different cities. whether it was right next door or it took almost a day to get there, Jimin made a point of not only making your dream of visiting the place come true, but he would also do everything he could to make your trip nothing but pleasant. Jimin just wanted to offer you the best because you simply deserved the best. “where do you want to go next week? we have four days to enjoy. wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, just tell me and i will make all your dreams come true.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIMIN who welcomes you when your day gets more complicated. stroking your hair and humming a soft melody, Jimin did everything to make your day better. he kept you in his arms for as long as you needed, making sure the outside world was far away from you. those moments were just for you and Jimin – all of reality could wait for you. tender kisses were placed on your skin when you felt most tired, guiding you into an ethereal relaxation while Jimin made sure his name didn’t leave your lips. when life became heavier than you could carry, Jimin let you rest in his arms, because he, better than anyone, knows how to make you forget all your worries – he just had to love you.

SUGAR-DADDY!JIMIN who likes to gift you necklaces and always want to be the one putting them on you. there was a certain intimacy in the way you held your hair up while Jimin hovered his fingers around your neck. there was a certain complicity in that eternal wait that Jimin created in the mere seconds between your ‘thank you’ and his ‘you are divine’. you could even say that there was a certain love when Jimin finished fastening your necklace and gently kissed your neck, sliding his hands to hold you and pull you closer to him, always closer to him. “your ‘thank you’ is sweet, but I think we both have another form of thanks in mind. isn’t it right, pet?”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIMIN who always wants you by his side at his parties. during all the parties, even though Jimin had to pay attention to everything that surrounded you, you never felt alone. one way or another, Jimin always had you close to him and was always looking out for you. when the buzz of conversations settled you in the room, Jimin would gently hold your fingertips as he greeted person after person; when there was a break in your socializing, Jimin made a point of gently pulling you by the hand and, with a smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes, he focused all his attention on you. Jimin only felt capable of facing everything and everyone when you were by his side – that was why he insisted on your presence at these parties, that was why he dressed you for these parties, that was why you were essential at these parties. without you, all of Jimin’s courage and joy were suddenly stolen and there was no one who could give them back. just you – the most special person to him, the only person he really wanted by his side. “I can ask the intern to do that work for you. if you want, i’ll even do it myself tomorrow! but please come to the party with me today. i really need you. please.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIMIN who takes you to all the concerts you want to see. a metal band or a symphony orchestra; a group of girls or a sibling duet; as many as there were, as many as you wanted. there was no concert that you missed. during the adrenaline of loud music and the joy in your heart, going to all the concerts you liked was something very special to you. the music was something intense, deep, an escape that you constantly used in this rotten reality; as such, seeing your favorite artists live, even having the chance to meet some of them, everything Jimin could do for you just made you grateful that you still lived in this world. you loved music and Jimin loved you – it was a fair deal for both of us. “have you seen this summer’s catalogue? i haven’t had time to look closely yet, but i think that singer you like, the… well, it doesn’t matter. that singer will be here in july. go you want to go see her?”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIMIN who slowly dances with you in the moonlight. Jimin’s hands rested on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. your foreheads were together in a small, tender gesture that, in a way, seemed to broaden your smiles. and there, in front of the window, in front of the full moon, you and Jimin lived each second. there was no work or studies. there were no friends or family. there was nothing – just you and Jimin. the silence of that moment was as loud as your hearts, filling Jimin’s room with this invisible flame that made you feel warm inside. in front of the moon, stripped of all reality and embraced by mystical celestial magic, you and Jimin didn’t need to speak when your bodies swayed to the sound of the void, knowing perfectly well that it was within you that the music sounded.

[dookiecurly]

okay dookie.. hear me out on this one,I've been cooking this idea in my mind for far too long, please bring it justice.

sooo- reader is on board the tulpar with the crew, they're a happy-go-lucky cheerful individual with an extremely charismatic personality and are jaw-droppingly attractive. ( Glazing ik forgive me )

here comes the twist,just by pure luck or by some coincidence or the other,the crew finds out that the reader was a very very very popular model in the past.

[ they found some of their old MAGAZINES/PORNOS ]

not just any model- playboy/gravure models who used to be incredibly popular and and a hotshot,but left that career in the past to focus on bigger things in space.

How would the crew react? Or behave towards them after finding out about their past? Would they be attracted towards her? Please I need to know you write so well

Uhhhmmm uhmmmmm. . Ookayyyy..... Okay.

Imagine how Curly felt when he found out the new worker, WHO HE DID NOT LOOK UP AND DOWN BECAUSE I KNOW HE'S NOT A PERVERT BECAUSE HES MY HUSBAND YOU DIPSHIT, was a model! Plus, he can see your tits too. I guess, he came back to Earth and was just browsing around a random shop when he found the magazine. Usually, he doesn't even bat an eye at them because let me say this again HE'S NOT A WEIRDO. Not to say that all people who buy revealing girl magazines are weirdos (they are). But he saw your face and was so shocked. Like, wow! He doesn't confront you about it. The first time he saw you after he saw the magazine, Curly stares you up and down with the image of your bare body with a bikini on. Of course, when you're not looking. This only happened a few times before he got used to it. People change, and he doesn't have the right to pry into their personal life. If you do tell him about your old job, he wouldn't be super... Surprised. I can't tell if he'd tell you that he already knew or he'd just act like he didn't. You choose.

JIMMY, might be ecstatic. First time he saw you, pretty face, pretty body, oh he is PLOTTING. I'm sorry, it's the truth. Now, he's found a magazine of you! YOU! Basically naked. When he found that magazine, he fucking stole it. 1. He doesn't want to be known as those guys, 2. In this economy? For a fancy paged excuse of a book? Yeah, no. Sometimes masturbates to it. Jimmy would definitely use it as blackmail if you don't want people finding out about your old job. Might even use it to get into your pants.

Okay so, I've got two perspectives on this for Swansea. First, you're a young model. Maybe he thought you were a pretty face, but it doesn't affect him that much. Pretty girls are everywhere, he doesn't need to get a boner about. When he saw the magazine, he didn't give a shit. Hes too old to care, but if you tell him, he'll say that he already knew.

Second, if you're around the same age and used to be a model in your 20s but wanted to try out a new job. Swansea thought you were quite youthful and pretty for your age (he's jealous), but still doesn't think much of it until he hears your name. Of course, young Swansea, imo, wasn't into magazines as well. But, he definitely knows the names of a few models. Who says his old friends weren't weirdos? Then he just brushes it off like, "Nah, probably a coincidence. Millions and billions of people are living in the universe, there's bound to be someone with the same name". Then when you tell him, he's like... A little shocked... But goes back to work. Thats all.

Daisuke already knows. DON'T TELL ME THAT HE DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW WHEN YOU CAME IN. I have a feeling that he's either really into the news of celebrities (Oh, no! Y/N quits modeling at age __?!???? Outrageous!!!) or his friends told him. Within a few moments, Daisuke is already up to you, asking if youre Y/N. Gets a pic and an autograph, and now he's happy. Yay >3<!!!

Anya, i think would also kind of know a few models. But only the really popular ones. She strikes me as a person who used to daydream of being as pretty as the girls on the cover, but then grew out of it. I don't think shes an insecure person if we're talking about looks. When she sees you, she definitely notices that you're pretty, but won't say much about it. Maybe a compliment, but that's all. Probably won't notice that you're one of the girls on the cover, but when she does, she kinda just... Doesn't say anything. Again, I don't think she thinks it's her business. If you tell her when she already knows, she'll just calmly say that she knew. If she didn't know until then, she'll probably be a little shocked but thats all. Nothing extravagant.

[femsolid]

Hi femsolid, since you and @floatingbook are the only two separate French bloggers that I know of. I wanted to ask on how you deal with colored men in particular middle eastern men. I don’t have a car so I often use Uber I’m thinking of switching to G7 I’m not sure if it’s any better. I have noticed that as drivers they are very aggressive and id prefer not to deal with that. I noticed that they tend to show more aggression to regular women (non Muslim women). I use the metro mainly and bc of that I come in contact with men. I haven’t had many negative experiences but I have noticed people getting more antsy on the metro. I’m also thinking of switching to female only membership only private spaces. I use to enjoy walking in public spaces but men keeping using that as an excuse for small talk. They often approach me and are very persistent. I think it’s ridiculous that I can’t be in public spaces. Do you know any good places in Ile de France? I’m happy we don’t have to beat around the bush about the immigration problem because a lot of these women are problematic too. Both genders ask me for money but it’s mainly women that try to use their children as a prop against me. So many of them are so entitled when asking for money too. I’ve noticed with them they never ask Caucasian French people they intentionally go after other minorities. Also what Arrondissements do you avoid? I once ended up in one part of town where I questioned what city I was in. Those neighborhoods tend to be a hit or miss sometimes people are nice sometimes they aren’t. Anyways please make a post on how to live in France as a separatist. I live in Paris so that makes it easier

I don't keep track of where I'll find more people of colour so I can avoid them, I don't sort through men based on their ethnicities, I don't call muslim women "non regular women", I don't view syrian refugees as a nuisance using their kids (who should be in school but are left in the street by the french government) against me, I don't believe there's an "immigration problem", I know there are more white men raping their daughters in France than there are refugees catcalling you.

What gets me the most is not what you're saying, I've heard it all before, it's the way you're saying it. It's the nonchalance, as if there was a tacit and national agreement on the matter. You probably don't think you said anything racist at all. It's probably the way your family speaks at dinner time, or how your favourite presidential candidate speaks, or how whatever "feminist" space you frequent speaks too. You assume I totally get where you're coming from and will obviously agree and give you some tips on how to avoid those nasty arabs.

So I'm going to tell you something, only because I'm feeling very patient today. Racism is a conspiracy theory. And when you're so used to having racist conversations with your racist friends and family that you think you can actually say shit like that in public, be scared. And stop watching racist news channels.

If I were to make a post about being a feminist separatist in France, you'd probably find it very unhelpful, as it wouldn't address any of your bourgeois problems such as refugee kids begging you for coins.

[ladyloveandjustice]

I want to expand on what I'm talking about. And I said a little bit extra in the comments:

There's just some posts that have been going around about how to solve the issue of men swinging real right in America right now,which does have an impact on society. some guy was saying he was attacted to the right bc they were all 'welcome brother' but in the left people resent him. I think it's just. It's easier to go to an idealogy that's like 'you're entitled to this' than an idealogy that says 'hey you're not entitled to everything but you could be more emotionally healthy and kinder to other people and". That's something simply being nice or making them feel good won't ever fully fix. The "rewards" for being in the right will always feel more immediate for white men.

It's not unique to men to feel alienated in an idealogy that wants you to challenge yourself. At the same time, more kindness to everyone, emphasis on acceptance, less volatile language toward each other, will help the community be stronger over all. it is a difficult conundrum, but I don't think it comes down to 'we don't make men feel special enough

It also ignores I think, that white men DO get rewarded in leftist spaces too. a lot. Men will get a ton of adoration for saying something vaguely feminist than if a woman says it a lot of the time, and so on a so forth, everyone loves a sweet guy...I think that's something that already happens.

But let's get back to volatile language:

We always say guilt isn't going to help anyone and it isn't about guilt. But I think we need to admit that no, we do try to make people feel guilty and ashamed a lot. And not framing it around that most of the time would do a lot.

I've seen posts straight up saying it's a bad thing to want to survive and live happy lives and take actions to do this because (x) bad thing is happening. You know, the most basic human instinct? And that's not going to win over people. You may not like that, but it's not.

I don't think that needs to center on women helping men feel special about themselves. A lot of us are asked to take care of men all the time and it's exhausting. Men on the left can focus on being more positive about the concept of manhood if they want, but asking women to do the work. is just....yeah that's just the patriarchy.

I do think examining things like black masculinity etc is great though. If you have another marginalized identity, it will intertwine with masculinity in very specific ways that will be used against you, just as it is with femininity or being outside both those concepts (yet the world assigns you one anyway). I totally get that masculinity is used as a weapon against both gay men and gay women, in different specific ways. And I think at least learning about that and supporting efforts to stop this makes one a better person.

On the other hand. it would be insane of me to ask a Black woman to make a Black man feel special and accepted for simply being a man if she doesn't want to do that. Like. absolutely wild.

And it's it's rarely about that, is it? When we say "celebrate men" it's not bringing any unique experience into it. It's about white men. They're the ones who make up most of the alt-right.

Communities in the right are not compassionate but because they offer some form of reward and companionship they can seem like that. As much as people are lured in by "welcome brother" or whatever, those same people will on the right will mock any person who steps outside the strict roles that have been set.

So....we need to abolish to same roles. I think we need to focus on how we talk to people. On supporting people when they're trying.

It also comes off in how we talk to each other about basically I can harshly tell someone who has privilege over me-- a white man or straight person ect ect-- their guilt about their privilege does nothing, I'm not interested in guilt and what we need is action. But let's be real. Telling someone "you benefit from a system that makes other people suffer" is going to make someone feel guilty. And yelling at someone for feeling guilty isn't going to make that better. I think we avoid saying the truth and say what's the core of it-- no, it's not your fault you were born a certain way and now you benefit from something. A society hundreds of years in the making made that happen. And that sucks, that you basically have no choice but to be complicit. And it sucks way, way more for the people who are kept down by that system. So we need to change society. We can do it together. It's not to "make up" for you existing. It's because we care about each other. I want this for all of us, because when we see each other as whole people and are treated equally, it benefits all of us.

This is a not a "men are uniquely punished by the left for being men, we need to celebrate masculinity, stop being so mean" thing. It's a human thing. It's about the way we talk to each other and try to weild guilt towards people in general. People want to feel good about themselves. They want some kind of acceptance. If you're constantly made to feel bad, it can be hard to want to stay. This is something everyone feels, because we all have a selfish instinct.

People don't like feeling guilty. That's just how people are. It's promoting compassion, rather than hatred and resentment, that's going to help us in the end.

But me simply saying that isn't going to change much. Humans feel hurt and lash out too. When horrible things are happening to us, we resent people that don't understand that or are part of that. The paradigm shift will be hard. Not everyone will be able to do it and I don't think that's wrong.

Everyone gets frustrated by a class of people where a lot of them have more power and try to push them down. Nobody wants to talk to someone that's trying to hurt them.

That's why it needs to be someone like me who could explain racism 101 rather than idk. making a person of color say 'well white people don't feel special and accepted for being white. poc we must be nicer. let's celebrate whiteness because the right does and that's why white people are drawn to it, they feel accepted." listen to how ridic that sounds. you are literally asking for a white history month. That's the same thing you're doing when you're talking about manhood like this. The onus is not on the discriminated group to reach out to those harming them. That's up to others in the community.

But as a broader thing...We just need to figure out what the end game is. Do we want to yell and guilt trip, or do we want more people in our corner? What's more important, the end goal or if someone knows all the right lingo or matches up to your opinions exactly? What do we need to rally around? How can we take care of each other? If we're kinder to the community, more people will follow.

Anyway this is the last time i'll say some big thing like this and tag it. I don't like doing this on tumblr for a reason.

[ghostingghosty]

I fear that the anger and disappointment of the left and in US-liberal spaces might create divisions and promote infighting; something which will counteract any momentum that have been growing in progressive spaces the last couple of years (the counter momentum to the rise of facism from the right).

The resentment towards the outcome and those who did not vote for Harris, either in demonstration or out of indifference, should not be carried over to Palestinians or their cause. I understand it's a time for self-reflection and reconsideration of political priorities, but comments like 'I am going to Starbucks RN' or 'good thing I never stopped eating McD lol' are so disheartening to hear. Your support for Palestinians should not be conditional – your morals should not falter because some people chose not to vote. Genocide is genocide; it did not change just because Trump won, and your support shouldn't either. If every single Palestinian signed a letter saying that they despised me, I would still fight for their right to live, cause human rights aren't debatable or conditional.

That said, I have also seen a lot of leftists who did not vote for Harris call the people who are sharing their frustrations with the election Zionists and genocide supporters, which is equally as disgusting. You are not morally better for not voting; you just made a different decision. Voting for Kamala does not make you a Zionist or a supporter of genocide, just like abstaining from voting because of morals didn't cause Trump to win. I also feel like these labels have been especially targeted against black people when sharing their frustrations with non-voters; a group that has historically been, and are, anti-war.

Emotions are high. Don't let the current political state discourage your kindness.

I believe that most of these reactions are coming from a place of hopelessness where we are seeking a scapegoat for the election results (and what that means for the state of the nation) and sharing ones frustration with a genocide that seems impossible to make politicians care about. Infighting is not the call, and it is important to let the Democratic Party know that turning to the right was the WRONG decision, otherwise they will do it again in four years. The Party was the main reason for their loss, as their campaign was tilted to center-right leaning republican middle and upper middle class women, instead of focusing on popular policies, such as free healthcare, and their own leftist base. It was a single-issue campaign on abortion, with an adoption of the right's racist immigration propaganda AND EVEN BEING FRIENDLY TOWARDS THEM to the point of promising republicans a seat in her government??? The campaign was a failure, and it is important to make them recognise their own incompetence and show them that boot-licking the right is bad politics.

PLEASE do not stop fighting for righteousness, even when everything seems hopeless – vote in the smaller elections and be informed on legislators and legislations in your states! Hold your representatives accountable!

[fairycosmos]

Hello

Long time follower. Big fan.

Umm i dont have any "real" friends and i feel like i have to vent about what happened to me with someone so plz bare with me.

Yesterday I was sexually assaulted. Outside my own apartment building by a man that is an "aquaintance" at most. I managed to get away by stepping on his foot and elbowing him in the stomach before it went any further. What sucks even more is that I live in a super conservative middle eastern country that has a society that loves to victim blame. I cant even go to the police cuz i have no proof and the sad thing is this the THIRD time in my life of 30 years where i get sexually assaulted. The first time was my cousin when I was 13 and the second time was someone who was a close friend when i was in my 20s. I feel pathetic and cowardly for not speaking up every time it happened. I know I cant tell my family cuz they are religious and all they care about is my "chastity" whatever the fuck that is and i honestly dont know what to do anymore.

Thank you for listening

🪽

hey angel,

i’m so sorry it took me a minute to see this, and honestly, i'm just fkn enraged that you're even in this position to begin with. none of this should’ve ever happened to you, and it’s so beyond messed up that you’ve had to go through it, and more than once, on top of everything else. first, i just want to say that i’m so, so grateful to you for opening up about it, especially when you’re feeling so isolated. it takes so much courage to even put this into words, and i’m honored that you trust me with it at all tbh. as much of an eye roll it is to hear, you’re truly not alone in this. and you’re definitely not “pathetic” or “cowardly” for how things played out or for not feeling like you could speak up before. the way you’re feeling is real, valid, and so understandable—especially when support and safety feel so distant.

it’s beyond unfair to be in a place where victim-blaming is such a huge part of the culture. to have to carry that, while being made to feel like you have to hide this, is an awful weight. but please know, this is not on you—none of it. the guilt and shame that the world tries to put on you is not yours, even if sometimes that feels impossible to believe. grounding yourself in the truth—that you haven’t done anything wrong, no matter how often you have to remind yourself—can be a solid step. and if you believe that for other people who've been in your shoes, then you must believe it for yourself too. ultimately, the shame belongs to the people who assaulted you and a world that hasn’t supported you the way you deserve. please don’t let their actions shape how you see yourself. your survival, your resilience, your courage etc that’s who you are.

there are a few places that might be able to give you some support, even if it’s from a distance. rainn.org offers confidential chat options and resources, and while it’s u.s.-based, it could still be useful if you need a safe space to talk. another is pandora’s project, a support and forum site specifically for survivors. they have spaces where people from all backgrounds, including those with similar cultural challenges, can connect. <3

if you’re open to it, a counselor or therapist who specializes in trauma and works online might be a good option, too. there are so many who understand the importance of privacy and safety in environments where speaking out can be challenging. the International Association for Trauma Professionals has a directory that could help you find someone who’d really get where you’re coming from and respect those unique challenges.

just remember, it’s okay to take this one step at a time. if all you can do today is share this with someone who cares, or offer yourself some compassion and grace to cry and breathe and be pissed and hurt and numb and upset, then that’s more than enough. i believe in your right to feel safe, supported, and heard, and there are people who genuinely want to help you get there, however and whenever you need.

sending you so much love and strength <3 if you need to vent or if you just need someone to talk to, please msg me any time. i understand what it's like to have your boundaries violated too and i know how lonely and painful it is to contend with it in your own head. x