#appeasement is not progress

[repost-this-image]

This just in:

Apparently knowing queer history and recognizing that we do not conform to homophobes’ ideas of What Gender Should Be is homophobic and transphobic now. As is knowing their talking points so we can dismantle them. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that this person (whom I’ve anonymized for their safety) is probably under 21.

My sweet summer child, it doesn’t matter how hard you try to make us look like the Nice Gays Next Door in a vain attempt to appease the homo- and transphobes out there. They will never like us. They will never accept us. Because that’s what being bigoted means.

Being queer isn’t about being nonconforming. But we still don’t conform to society’s cisheteronormative paradigm. Because that paradigm is bullshit. We are different from what society, which IS actually queerphobic, wants us to be. Some people struggle against this difference, trying to look as Normal as possible. Others embrace the difference, hoping for a time when the new normal becomes an acceptance of the wonderful variety of (non-abusive) ways that people interact with sex and gender.

And if you can’t accept that the movement for LGBT rights started with kinksters, leather daddies, and drag queens, then you need to grow up. Because it did. That is actual history. Marsha P. Johnson was a trans woman and sex worker. Stonewall was a gay club where adult shenanigans were known to happen in defiance of sodomy laws.

Refusing to accept the weirdos among us is just another form of gatekeeping and discrimination. That is, in fact, the fucking point of my original post.

I am a bisexual trans man. I struggled to accept that for years because of the bigotry I saw all around me. I didn’t get comfortable in my own skin until I said “fuck the bigots and what they think; I’m going to be the version of me that I like best, regardless of their hateful opinion.” And for some queer folks, leaning into the camp, or the kink, or elaborate costuming, is what makes them feel best about themselves. They are sticking a nice big middle finger up to The Man and the bigotry that he represents.

Rebelling against bigots is not the same thing as bigotry. Respectability politics doesn’t convince bigots to change their tune. It just makes them say, “Most [demographic] are disgusting horrible degenerates, except for [Name]. They’re One Of The Good Ones.” I have seen it in my own parents.

I just want to say it again for the teens out there:

The “groomer” rhetoric is not new.

I remember when all LGBT people were generally considered to be pedophiles. By most other people. I was y’all’s age.

When my parents were teens, two men holding hands in public could be arrested just for that, because it was “lewd and lascivious behavior.” Having gay sex was a crime. Dressing as the “wrong” gender was a crime. These things were considered pornographic by nature.

Leather and kink were featured in the first Prides, to flout society’s rules. To say, we’re here, we’re queer, and you cannot destroy us.

Again, until I was about 10 years old, there were still sodomy laws on the books in the United States.

And when I was a teenager, when Matthew Shepard was murdered (look it up, but be warned, it is gruesome), most adults still believed that gay men were pedophiles by nature.

The far right doesn’t just hate us. They want to go back to the days when children did not know about us, when adults could go for years without knowingly encountering a queer person.

They want every last one of us dead or in prison. Every single LGBT person in existence. Because to them, saying “some kids have two mommies or two daddies” is pornography. To them, saying “I’m not the gender I was assigned at birth” is pornography. You may as well be giving them a play-by-play of How To Have Anal Sex With Another Dude.

So when you act like the leather pride flag “isn’t a real pride flag,” when you say “no kink at Pride,” you are telling the far-right: “You were right. We are a bunch of filthy degenerate horndogs who shouldn’t exist in front of children.” You are playing directly into their hands.

Fuck that. I don’t need other queer folks doing our oppressors’ work for us.

If you are not for the LGBT community, warts and all, “freaks” and all, then you are against us.

[loremaster]

To Scale (Probably)

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all you know sometimes when you have the urge to eat something specific but you don't know what the specific thing is? I'm having that but for crafting. Like, I feel like I want to make something in a different medium than my usuals but idk what it is??? I'm going to try drawing first to see if it's that, I think. Send me requests/suggestions to draw and I might draw them! I also might end up plushifying them if I draw them?

[ashleyfableblack]

It's important to be mindful that how we perceive others is not necessarily how they perceive themselves and that making comparisons can come across as presumptive, offensive and insulting, even at the best of times. To better grow relationships remain mindful of others' boundaries.

It's also important to recall that no matter how tolerant or friendly they may seem the romantic partner of your friend is not automatically your friend and pushing their boundaries is VERY inadvisable.

...especially if you're a rapey creep who aided in the persecution of your tea-time host's species.

All lessons Cadence was about to become painfully aware of, from the business end of some Big Mama Bughooves.

[dandelionjack]

anybody else really disappointed in ezra furman

oppression of israelis? what on earth are you talking about? where have the radical-judaism-as-philosophy-of-revolution core tenets your lyrics have been suffused with gone?

[tortadecuchufli]

thousands of years of evolution and chains of events have made getting resources as easy as possible as it has ever been in human history and yet here i am struggling to put together a grocery list and find the articles at 2 am on a saturday night

[thethief1996]

Israel has cut water, electricity and food to Palestinians in Gaza. They are buying 10.000 M16 rifles and plan to distribute to civilian settlers in the West Bank to hunt down Palestinians. They're bombing the only way out of Gaza through Egypt, after telling refugees to flee through it, and have threatened the Egyptian government in case they let aid trucks pass through. Entire families, generations, are being wiped out and left to wander the streets hoping they don't get bombed.

Palestinians are using their last minutes of battery to let the world know about their genocide and are being met with a wall of "What about Hamas? What about the beheaded babies? Killing children on either side is bad!" even though the propaganda claims have been debunked over and over again. How cruel is it to ask somebody to condemn themselves before their last words? Or before grieving the loss of their entire families? When there's no such disclaimer to Israelis even though their government has shown over and over genocidal intent? Like who are you even trying to appease? What will your wishy washy statement do against decades of zionist thought infiltrating evangelical and Jewish stablishmemts?

Take action. Israel will fall back if public opinion turns its tide. The UK fell back on its bloody decision to cut aid to Palestine under public scrutiny. The USAmerican empire spends $3.8 billion dollars annually solely on this proxy war while its people suffer under a progressively military regime as well. News outlets are canceling last minute on Palestinian speakers while letting Israelis tell lies unchecked. Palestinian refugees are being targeted in ICE establishments and mosques are already being hounded by the FBI. France and Germany have banned pro-Palestine protests, while Netherlands and the UK have placed restrictions . You have the chance to stop this from turning into repeat of the Iraq war.

I want to do something but there's hardly anything for me to do from Brasil besides spreading the word and not letting these testimonies fall on deaf ears. I'm asking you to do this same ant work from wherever you are.

Follow:

Eye On Palestine (instagram / twitter)

Mohammed El-Kurd (instagram / twitter)

Decolonize Palestine (website with a chronological explanation of the occupation and debunking myths)

Muhammad Shehada (twitter)

Plestia Alaqad (directly from Gaza. Many of her videos are interrupted by bombs)

If there's a protest in your city, please attend. Here's an international calendar of events:

Friday, October 13

ALBUQUERQUE, NM (US) – Fri Oct. 13, 3 pm, UNM Bookstore, University of New Mexico. Organized by Southwest Coalition for Palestine.

BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA (US) – Fri Oct 13, 6 pm, Sproul Hall (Vigil), University of California Berkeley. Organized by Bears for Palestine.

DOUAIS, FRANCE – Fri Oct 13, 6:30 pm, Place de’Armes.

GOTHENBURG, SWEDEN – Fri Oct 13, 5:30 pm, Brunnsparken. Organized by Palestinska samordningsgruppen Gothenburg.

GREENSBORO, NC (US) – Fri Oct. 13, 4 pm, Wendover Village, 4203 W Wendover Ave, Greensboro, NC. Organized by Muslims for a Better NC.

LONDON, ENGLAND – Fri Oct 13, 5 pm, Keir Starmer’s Office, Crowndale Center, 218 Eversholt St, London. Organized by IJAN UK.

MEANJIN/BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct 13, 6 pm, King George Square.

MIAMI, FL (US) – Fri Oct 13, 4:30 pm, Bayfront Park. Organized by Troika Kollectiv.

NAPOLI, ITALY – Fri Oct 13, 4:30 pm, Piazza Garibaldi, Napoli. Organized by GPI and Centro Culturale Handala Ali.

NGUNNAWAL/CANBERRA, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct 13, 5:30 pm, Carema Place.

PERTH/BOORLOO, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct. 13, 5:30 pm, Murray Street Hall, Boorloo/Perth. Organized by Friends of Palestine WA.

PORTLAND, OREGON (US) – Fri Oct 13, 3 pm, 1200-1220 SW 5th Ave, Portland.

PORT RICHEY, FL (US) – Fri Oct 13, 7:30 am, Route 19 and Ridge Road, Port Richey. Sponsored by: Florida Peace Action Network; Partners for Palestine; CADSI

PRETORIA, SOUTH AFRICA – Friday, Oct. 13, 7 pm, UP Main Campus, DSA Building opposite Thuto. Organized by PSC UP.

WITSWATERSRAND UNIVERSITY (SOUTH AFRICA) – Fri Oct 13, 1 pm, Great Hall Piazza, Flag demonstration. Organized by Wits PSC.

Saturday, October 14

ABERDEEN, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct. 14, 2 pm, St. Nichlas Square. Organized by Scottish PSC.

AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, Aotea Square, Queens St, 291-2997 Queen St. Organized by PSN Aotearoa.

DETROIT/DEARBORN, MICHIGAN (US) – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, Ford Woods Park, 5700 Greenfield Road. Organized by SAFE, PYM, SJP, Handala Coalition, more.

DUNDEE, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct. 14, 2 pm, Place TBA. Organized by Scottish PSC.

EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct 14, 2 pm, Princes Street at Foot of the Mound. Organized by Scottish PSC.

FRANKFURT, GERMANY – Sat Oct 14, 3 pm Hauptwache, Frankfurt am Main. Sponsored by Palestina eV, Migrantifa Rhein-Main and more.

GLASGOW, SCOTLAND – Sat. Oct 14, 2 pm, Buchanan Steps. Organized by Scottish PSC.

HOUSTON, TEXAS (US) – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, City Hall, 901 Bagby St. Organizd by PYM, PAC, USPCN, SJP and more.

LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND – Sat Oc 14, 12 pm, Church St. Organized by FRFI.

LONDON, ENGLAND – Sat Oct 14, 12 pm, BBC Portland Place, London. Organized by a broad coalition.

MILANO, ITALY – Sat. Oct 14, 3:30 pm, Piazza San Babila. Organized by Young Palestinians of Italy, UDAP, Palestinian Community, Association of Palestinians.

ORLANDO, FLORIDA – Sat Oct 14, 3 pm, Lake Eola at Robinson and Eola, Orland. Organized by Florida Palestine Network.

TORINO, ITALY – Sat. Oct. 14, 3 pm, Piazza Crispi. Organized by Progetto Palestina.

VALPARAISO, CHILE – Sat Oct 14, 6 pm, Plaza Victoria, Valparaiso. Organized by Comite Chileno de Solidaridad con Palestina.

WASHINGTON, DC (US) – Sat Oct 14, 1 pm, Lafayette Square. Organized by AMP.

Sunday, October 15

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS – Sun Oct 15, 2 pm, March from Dam Square to Jonas Daniel Meijer plein.

NAARM/MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, State Library Victoria.

TARDANYA/ADELAIDE, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, 2 pm, Parliament House.

AUSTIN, TEXAS (US) – Sun Oct 15, 3 pm, Texas Capitol. Organized by PSC ATX.

GADIGAL/SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, 1 pm, Sydney Town Hall.

SANTIAGO, CHILE -Sun Oct 15, 11 am, Plaza Dignidad, Santiago. Organized by Comite Chileno de Solidaridad con Palestina.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced/accidental bonding, subjugation

♡ part one

♡ fem reader

Once you wake up in the morning, you feel… changed.

Your body feels full—as though you’d indulged too much last night—heavy and sticky and sore all over. There’s a strange taste in your mouth—sweet, somewhat salty, and metallic. Geez, you’re head’s pounding—how much did you drink last night? No, this feels different from a hangover—more full-bodied than that—a withdrawal of some kind or another. You must have done more at the party than drink, and yet, you can’t remember having stayed there all that long. No, you left with someone. That’s right. You went with… that overgrown Omega.

Oh no.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He comes in only wearing a pair of snug boxers—body stacked with brawn, not a single hint of Omega-like softness aside from his tousled bed hair. There’s a big toothy smile on his face—eyes are creased in cheer while carrying an overfull breakfast tray. You know you’re hungry, and yet you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but sick to your stomach by the horrid sight of his flaunted neck, decorated by a gory ring of your bitemark.

No. No, no, no, no, no! Fuck! “Tell me that’s not what I think it is…”

He laughs lightly with an awkward smile, apologetically scratching the back of his neck while balancing the tray in the other hand. “I’m afraid so…”

The world stops spinning, and for a moment, you think it might actually never start up again. Your throat snares, and you think you might throw up. How the fuck could this happen?

He sets the tray down next to you, then himself. The whole bed takes waves upon his weight. You remain still—eyes unrest and mouth hung.

“Hey, I know this might not be what we had planned, but…” he starts.

But you don’t let him finish before declaring, “I’ll take full responsibility.”

There’s nothing else to do, you think. The red string of fate has tied the two of you together. It’s sealed.

“There is no going back now.”

His face expresses shock, but if you’d taken a closer look, he’d probably not be able to hide it—the overwhelming sensation of victory. Oh, bless your Alpha pride. He knew you would say that.

He smiles softly. “I’m in your care then.”

It’s a work in progress after that—slow in the beginning, but that’s to be expected. You never pegged yourself to be the type who got caught up in the unmendable mistakes of a one-night stand, but then here you were—mated with a stranger, moving into his apartment because it’s bigger and closer to work, sharing the same bed and eating the same meals and helping each other through one another’s ruts and heats.

He's still no closer to being your type. In fact, he’s the total opposite—too giant to give you even a semblance worth of superiority over him. A couple of days ago, when he’d been searching for the remote in the couch you were lying on, he’d taken to pick you up instead of just asking you to move. It was completely humiliating. He’s so brazen, and it’s starting to become clear he’s doing it all on purpose!

He doesn’t get fussy when you state your claim of being the one on top—no, but what he does instead is somehow worse, going along with it with snide praise, grinning up at you, his big hands weighing heavy on your haunches as you roll them, calling you his good girl. It seems to humor him how it angers you—chuckling behind your hands as you layer them both atop his mouth, growling at him to “Shut up!”

No, he doesn’t mind letting you take charge. He rather enjoys the view of watching you ride—working so hard to appease him while he rests pretty and admires your body—all soft edges and plush curves. You tire quickly, though—poor thing, why don’t you leave the rest to him?

You had rejected it the first few times he’d offered. Your bruised pride simply wouldn’t have it—you’d rather you both stop than let him finish you off. But a couple more nights and you’d quicker come around than either of you expected—perhaps worn down by his constant nagging or simply fed up with your own failure—you let him assist by bouncing you on his lap.

You wouldn’t admit it to his face, never, but you’d enjoyed it far more than you could have ever thought…

Thankfully, your face in and of its own glory told him all he needed to know. It didn’t take long before he’d taken full advantage of it, nor for you to begin allowing it without being asked. Soon you were letting him fuck you against the wall, making the entire room shake—wall creaking and shelves rattling, pictures falling down. You hold your tongue and hold on tightly, arms and legs wrapped around him—moaning sweetly right by his ear. Fuck, you even bite him again.

As time passed, you came around to indulging more and more of his antics. Letting him fuck you from behind—hard and heavy and deep—thrusting into you while grappling your waist. You even go down on all fours when he does it—digging your claws into the sheets.

Lying belly-up beneath him still makes you feel nervous—and slightly ashamed—almost convinced something’s wrong with you for liking it. And yet you can’t help it. You know any other Omega wouldn’t fuck you like this. They wouldn’t have the stamina, the drive, or the desire. Not like him, who does it all like it’s his nature even when it shouldn’t be.

Guess you’re both freaks.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[politijohn]

On Kamala Harris’s defeat

Democrats’ strategy of courting conservative suburban voters failed….as it has done over and over again.

Despite Trump’s platform, Latino voters have swung drastically right, continuing the trend we saw in 2020. It’s like the turkey voting for Thanksgiving.

There’s a dangerous theme among Gen Z men becoming radically right-wing. The Trump Campaign capitalized on this.

I’m not surprised the outdated Democratic Party failed…again. They play a game meant for two decades ago. Fantastic ground game doesn’t matter. Conservative pundits run the airways. Social media is a conservative hellscape. People like Joe Rogan hold significant sway and there is no progressive, or even liberal, counterbalance.

This country has moved right and it’s incredibly concerning. While we had some wins this election, we saw decent progressives ousted in their primaries and status quo politics fail in the general.

The problem is bigger than Kamala. The entire Democratic Party establishment must be dismantled. This has been the case since at least 2015. Liberalism at large is failing and the Democratic Party is incentivized to keep doing business as usual to appease donors (hint: this doesn’t mean you!). We need a true populist left movement if we are ever going to get out of this conservative hole.

[nereidprinc3ss]

relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 

“Hello to you too...” 

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 

“I’m literally offering to help you.” 

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  

But the essay... 

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 

Oh? 

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 

You flush. 

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  

“I made you cum three times, right?” 

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 

“Who’s that for?” 

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 

“Look at that,” he breathes. 

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  

“Feel better?” 

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 

“What kind of tears?” 

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 

[witch-hazels-musings]

seeing you get hit

Genre: angst/comfort NEUVILLETTE x GN reader  |  Anthology warning: the reader is punched in the face, kicked (2xs), mention of pain and discomfort / Mesulines are treated unkindly and spoken too derogatorily / Neuvillette obliterates a guy (oh also you wake up in his bed -- fufu) Synopsis: *character* becomes progressively worried about you not returning - as the hours tick by, they notice a commotion has started and find you in distress as they check it out. Quickly they head to where you were and, well, their reaction to seeing you being accosted by someone in the middle of the city, let’s just say they took matters into their own hands

"Sir, please calm down," you said, raising your hands to appease the irate man waving about. You moved to position yourself between him and the Melusine and could feel her trembling as she latched onto your clothes.

"How dare you raise your voice to me!" he shouted, swatting at your hands, forcing you to shuffle backward toward the canal. With how tightly the Melusine stood beside you, it became increasingly difficult to not trip over her.

"I can see you're angry -"

"I'm not angry, I'm annoyed. I want an apology from that - that thing, now!" He jutted his hand toward the Melusine and she hid further behind your leg. Rage billowed off him like salty wind on the high seas, every transgression equalling small cuts that made you wince. You knew there were those who dislike the Melusines, but you never had the disgusting privilege of meeting one - until now.

"I did say I was sorry, sir," she mumbled, to terrified to speak louder than a gentle caress of water over shallow rocks.

"There, will that satisfy you?" you asked, hand against his chest to keep him from moving closer. He locked eyes with you, shoulders heaving, face flush and red. His stare darted between you and her, back and forth, increasing in frustration. You moved until he couldn't see her at all. "Leave."

His lips curled into a feral sneer. "You think you're bravely protecting it, huh? If it's so important, let it face me-"

"Her."

"What?"

"I'm protecting her."

Rage swept over him and, without thinking, you shoved the Mesuline to the side and took the full force of his blow.

---

Neuvillette made his way through the crowd, chin lifted as he carefully took in the people. Some smiled at him, others bowed their heads in dutiful respect. He minded neither, but returned their gestures with a kind nod.

He rarely had intentions when he wandered through the city. It was typical for him to meander like a slow moving river carving a lazy path to nowhere in particular but today he felt a strong desire to happen upon someone. You. One who had grown rather close to him over the last several months, one who, at times, would come by to, 'check in on him,' while he worked, one who found a habit of leaving bottles of mineral-rich water on his desk when he was away. He found your company, pleasing.

Though, so far, his unassuming searching had come up empty. Did you make mention of leaving Fontaine today? He couldn't remember.

Near the canal, frustrated voices billowed on the wind. A crowd had formed in a rather unusual way. He stared, unable to see through the bunched people when something tugged on his leg.

Neuvillette pushed through the crowd. They jumped out of the way and tripped over themselves to allow him through while he looked ahead at the sight beyond their breach and felt the blackness of the sea consume him.

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" the Mesuline shouted, her eyes filled with worry.

---

"Are you okay?" The Mesuline asked, her face inches from yours as you coughed and blinked through the white. A high-pitched ring clogged your ears so you opened your mouth to clear the noise only to gasp at the pain it caused.

"You stupid -- so desperate to go down with those fucking things? Fine!" The man shouted. You looked his way just in time to see his leg fly toward your stomach. It sent you careening into the stone pathway and knocked the Mesuline halfway into the water. You tried to grab her, but she slipped from your grip when you landed on your arm, it bent unnaturally in your tumble. You cried out but that didn't stop him from slamming his foot into your chest.

Gasping, you rolled onto your back and stared at the blinding sky. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. The Mesuline rushed toward you and you lifted a shaking arm to block them from the man's wrath.

People screamed and rushed forward to grab the man as his foot came down toward you but all you saw was radiant blue rising toward the sky, and from its shimmer came the rain.

A massive wave rose from the canal and covered the land in a shallow, unmoving layer of crystal-clear water. You could make out the bodies of onlookers but they seemed frozen, more like mirages, glistening in quiet stasis. The buildings of Fontaine reflected in the mirror-like water, making your stomach flip, but the hovering figure in the eerie blue turned your skin cold.

"What is - what's happening?" the man asked, panic seeping from him as he searched for familiar ground. He looked at his feet only to shout and stumble onto his backside. "Monsters! I told you! Those things are monsters!" He pointed to the Mesuline who was now securely tucked against your chest. She trembled, buried her face against you and held on so tightly it made you wince.

"You are mistaken," a voice said and the water fluttered, every droplet alight with energy it couldn't bear. "I am the monster you seek."

Through bleary, rain-blinded eyes, you watched the figure descend before the man and, when it was close enough, you recognized its face.

Neuvillette.

Beads of water lept from the basin to reach him like hands pawing to touch even a thread of their so-called God. You could sense the energy in the shallow pool, feel it in every drop of rain that cascaded across your face but none of it touched Neuvillette. He remained - unaffected.

"Iudex ..." the man said, his voice barely audible even in the strange quiet. Senses returning to him, he scrambled to a low, deep bow and splayed his hands beneath Neuvillette's hovering feet. "Monsieur, please, this is all just a terrible mistake."

"Have the rules of Order been unclear to you?"

"I - I don't understand."

"Your crime has been witnessed by many and yet, you stand before me, denying all accusations?"

"P-Please, Monsieur. T-they attacked me, I was just defending myself."

"It appears communication with the accused is going poorly. I shall afford you one final chance before I render judgment."

"Judgement? What-you can't!" The man stood and came up to Neuvillette's hips. "You may be the Iudex, but you can't sentence me! I deserve to be tried. You'll see - you'll see then it was all a mistake."

Neuvillette glanced your way, his eyes narrowing. When he looked back at the man, all the color drained from his face. "By order of -"

"No, wait! Please!" The man raised his hands and Neuvillette did the same.

"I render you, guilty." Power boiled below the surface and set the world rumbling. "Bow your head, and be sanctified," Neuvillette said and with his judgment, a pillar of water burst from below and consumed the man until there was nothing left.

When the waters receded, Neuvillette made his way to you. Each step steady, measured, undisturbing of the waters beneath him. He knelt at your side, laid one hand on your forehead and another on the trembling Melusine who hid further against your body.

"Neu --" you said, pain taking your voice.

"I am here," he hummed and you fell away like the tide.

---

When you awoke, you found yourself surrounded by lapping silk. Cool fabric warmed by your body heat. It hurt to lift yourself up, but only slightly. It seemed your mind remembered the pain of the day before while your body didn't. You touched your chin but it felt normal.

"I see you are awake," a voice echoed in the room but you couldn't see them. Giant rods on each corner of the bed held up a royal curtain that obscured your vision.

You were tempted to slip free from the sheets when the pitter-patter of feet held you in place and from the nothing several Melusines rushed to greet you. Each was more excited than the last. They swarmed you with thanks and laughter, sweeping you up in their joyous voices.

Another being appeared near the edge of the bed, except his presence made you go still. He moved gracefully to sit beside you and instinctually you moved so he had more room. He noticed.

Neuvillette frowned. "I have frightened you," he said, sorrowful as dropped his gaze.

"What? No, I'm not -" You reached for him then pulled back at the last minute. He noticed. "I'm not afraid of you. I swear."

He contemplated your reply for what felt like forever before nodding in acceptance. "I hope you do not mind the accommodations. I had little place else to take you."

You tried to not think about it too much. It was almost certain this was - as you now suspected - his room. "It's fine," you replied and hoped the shadows didn't betray the heat rising in your cheeks.

"I am pleased to hear." Neuvillette smiled and let his eyes drift to the Mesulines surrounding you. "I believe thanks are in order."

"You're the one who saved me though."

"That may be true, yet it was you who protected the Mesulines, was it not?"

Your palm went flush against one of their backs. You didn't think much at the time, it was just - "It was the only thing to do."

"Indeed," he said, his eyes soft, kind, and fixed on your own. You dropped them under the pressure only for your heart to stop when his hand cupped your chin so he could look at you again. "I am grateful."

You looked at him, tried to breathe, tried to force words - any words - through your throat but all you could manage were several shallow nods to which he responded by running his finger across your cheek - leaving you drowning.

[nyancrimew]

also while we're at it, "progressive" doesn't mean anything and doesn't describe any specific ideology and is a cop out term for people who want leftists to vote for them while not losing out on corporate and further right support. meaningless catch all terms for ideologies that exist to appease rich donors result in people like john fetterman getting elected on vague promises.

it has been shown time and time again that committing to actual radical change and standing by it is the way forward and actually a viable way to get elected, making empty promises using vague words that sound radical and then slowly assimilating into the establishment has yet to result in meaningful change

[420technoblazeit]

the thing about jayce is that the same thing that makes him so annoying in season 1 also makes him so endearing in season 2. and it all comes down to his sense of loyalty. he spends a lot of time in the first season struggling with being a people pleaser and a great example of this is the aftermath of his progress day speech. heimerdinger insists that the hextech inventions need more work so he holds off on revealing them to the public, disappointing both viktor and mel. he's constantly being pulled thin by conflicting loyalties. he wants to appease the council so he rubs elbows with them and allows their illegal imports despite just raising security in the hexgates. he wants to keep the people of piltover safe so he puts up the barricade at the bridge even when that worsens the city's relationship with zaun. and when vi storms in and tells him that the best way to hurt silco is to destroy his shimmer factory he goes in swinging

but in season 2 after he quits the council jayce isn't obligated to please them and the people of piltover anymore and has some freedom to choose what he really wants. and it turns out that at his very core his loyalty is to viktor. jayce says it himself, he believes now that his place is in the lab with him, not on the council. that same devotion that led to him going astray in the first season is also what leads him to revive viktor with the hexcore. jayce just can't stand inaction. if he thinks he's found a solution he'll reach for it every time and when it comes to his place on the council that means acting against silco and intentionally or not escalating the zaun-piltover conflict. but when it comes to viktor that means doing whatever he can to save him even to the bitter end. and that makes him a much more sympathetic character because while those choices aren't necessarily morally better than the ones he made in season 1 they're also primarily motivated by his love for viktor

[ayaahh00]

Look at the state of the lesbians subs on Reddit. 95% of them are porn subs for straight men to openly fetishize us and attempt to turn our sexuality into a porn category for men’s pleasure and perversions. While the biggest “lesbian” subs are run by trans identifying males who believe they’re entitled to lesbians attraction and safe space. And of course dyke conversion run by two trans identifying males, it’s sub for men to talk about how much they want to rape and violate lesbians. And any lesbian subs that obviously excludes males get mass reported by them. I genuinely can’t take how tims annihilated any progress lesbians did to appease their male fetishes. And men refuse to accept lesbians are not attracted to men and our sexual orientation is NOT your porn category and we don’t exist for your degeneracy. Why do we have to go through this because simply hetero males are predators!

[wonderjanga]

This is an Intervention

The JL have a serious concern about Marvel. This is because the man doesn’t know when to put down the bottle. Like, at a bar, he’ll just keep drinking and drinking and drinking without a care in the world. The man doesn’t show restraint in the slightest.

Meanwhile, Billy thinks nothing of this because he doesn’t actually know how much adults can drink without literally dying of alcohol poisoning. There’s also the fact that his Marvel form can’t get drunk so down and down the drinks go.

Their final straw was when they were all at a bar and Marvel was just downing shot after shot like it was nothing.

GL: “Uh… Cap? Why don’t you cool it on the shots?” *sounds nervous because how was Marvel doing that without even flinching*

Flash: “Yeah, man. Are you okay? We don’t want to have to carry you back to the Watchtower.”

Marvel: *looks genuinely confused* “Why would you have to do that?”

Speaking of which, despite being the person who drinks the most out of all of them, and that’s no joke, he out drank both Diana and Arthur, he somehow is always the person carrying drunk people back to the tower. He’s also the person who drives whenever Bruce wasn’t there, which now that they think about was extremely stupid to let Marvel do. It’s not even that he’s a bad driver or carrier. It’s just that the man drinks a lot.

Anyways, the point is, Marvel has a problem. A big one. So, as his friends, the JL wants to help in anyway possible. That includes staging an intervention for their friend.

Marvel: *walks into the meeting room, whistling a little tune*

JL: *sitting at the meeting table all looking solemn or grim*

Marvel: “Uh… Hey guys?” *awkward wave when he notices the tension*

Supes: “Marvel, could you sit down with us?”

Marvel: “…Sure?” *hesitantly sits down*

Supes: “Marvel… we called this meeting because we had something to discuss with you.”

Marvel: *looks slightly horrified because he thinks they know about Billy* “Is this you kicking me out of the league?”

Supes: “Wha- No! No, of course not! Look it’s just- Marvel, we’ve come here today because of another problem.”

Marvel: “Oh.” *relaxes slightly* “And that is?”

Aquaman: “Your drinking problem.”

Marvel: *looks extremely confused* “Drinking problem? I don’t have a drinking problem.”

GL: “Eh… Yeah you do, man. Look, there’s no need to feel ashamed or anything like that. We just want you to get help.”

Black Canary: “I can give you the number of a therapist who works in group therapy sessions specifically for alcoholics.”

Marvel: “That’s nice Canary, but I’m still not an alcoholic!”

He ended up going there anyways to appease them .

Marvel: “Well, I guess whenever I just pick up the bottle, I can’t stop. I’m a social drinker though. I only really do it around people.”

Therapist: “Yes, Mark.” (That name’s a reference to this post from a really really long time ago) “Everyone here is and or was a social drinker too. I’m glad you’ve acknowledged that you struggle to put down the bottle. That’s some good progress.” *writes in little notepad*

By progress, he means the fact that Billy adamantly denied that he was an alcoholic, which again, he wasn’t, but just decided to go along with it to get these group sessions over with.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Arcana Interpretations

symbolism for your next poem/story (pt. 1)

1. The Magician

The beginning, the first cause, Mercurial influence

Good: Dexterity, ability, diplomacy, eloquence, convincing ways, an alert mind, a quick mind, business acumen

Bad: A persuasive boaster, an illusionist, intrigue, careerist, politician, charlatan, imposter, liar, a crook, an exploiter; an agitator, a lack of scruples

2. The Priestess

Mystery, intuition, devotion, passive Saturnian influence

Good: reserved, discreet, quiet, meditation, faith, patient, religious feelings, resignation, modesty; necessary inaction

Bad: hidden intentions, dissimulation, hypocrisy, inaction, laziness, sanctimonious, holds a grudge, an indifferent disposition, interest in the mystical

3. The Empress

Prudence, discretion, idealism and intellectual solar influence

Good: Understanding, intelligence, instruction, charm, courteous, sociable, elegance, distinction, politeness; domination by the mind, abundance, riches; servility

Bad: Affectation, poseur, stylish, vanity, pretentious, disdain, frivolity, idleness, luxury, extravagant; sensitivity to flattery, lack of refinement, ways of nouveaux riche

4. The Emperor

Firm, positivism, executive power, Saturnian-Martial influence

Good: Right, rigid, certitude, fixed ideas, realization, perseverance, strong willpower, acts on decisions; powerful protector

Bad: Tenuous opposition, stubborn, hostile prejudice, opinionated, bad government, big risks of failure; tyranny, absolutism

5. The Pope

Duty, morality, conscience, Jupiterian influence

Good: Moral authority, respectability, teaching, good advice, goodwill, indulgent, generosity, forgiveness; meekness

Bad: Papal sentence, strict moralist, strict teacher, small-minded theorist, bombastic preacher; an adviser with a lank of practical sense

6. The Lovers

Feelings, freewilled, testing, double influence of Venus or more exactly Ishtar the war like star of the morning, then amorous as the stars go down

Good: Voluntary determinism, choice, wished, aspirations, desires; examinations, deliberations, responsibility; affections

Bad: To go through doubts and indecision; dangerous temptation, the risk of being seduced, misconduct, liberty, weakness, lack of heroism

7. The Chariot

Triumph, command, superiority, Martian-solar influence

Good: Legitimate success, deserved advancement, talent, health, aptitudes put to good effect; governmental tact, diplomacy, efficient direction, appeasement; progress, mobility, journeys on land

Bad: Unjustified ambition, lack of talent, usurped situation, illegitimate government, dictatorship, harmful concessions, dangerous opportunism, worrying about which way to go, preoccupations, overworked, feverish activity without rest

8. Justice

Order, regularity, method, equilibrium, placid lunar influences

Good: Stability, conservatism, organization, normal functioning; law, discipline, logic, coordination, adapting to necessities, moderate opinions, practical sense, reason, administration, economy, obedience

Bad: Bourgeoisism, submission to users, lack of initiative, slaving over books, functionalism, papers; police station; legal dispute, law suit, quarrel, exploitation of the legal system

9. The Hermit

Prudence, reserve, restriction, Saturnian influence

Good: Isolation, concentration, silence, profoundness, meditation, study; austerity, continence, sobriety, discretion; doctor, discreet occultist

Bad: Timid, misanthrope, mute, exaggerated circumspection, lack of sociability, sullen character; avarice, poverty, celibacy, chaste; conspirator

10. The Wheel of Fortune

Destiny, instability, lunar-Mercurial influence

Good: Sagacity, an opportunist, luck in all undertakings, luck, fortuitous success; spontaneity, an inventive disposition, liveliness, good humour

Bad: Carelessness, speculation, game, insecurity, unserious, the unexpected, gypsy character; unstable situation, sudden change, winnings and losses; adventures, risks, minor fortune

11. Strength

Virtue, courage, Jupiter-Mars influence

Good: Moral energy, calm, intrepid; mind over matter; intelligence conquering brutality; subjugation of passions; success in industry

Bad: Anger, impatience, immoderate enthusiasm, insensibility, cruelty, fighting, war, conquering with violence, a surgical operation, vehemence, discord, fire

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ On Tarot