#but I know that’s in response to the people that are being stupid about it

[that-satireguy]

100% disagree. You're a cishet white man? Cool. I'm a brown trans guy who was raised in a misogynistic cult.

Do you know how easy it is.

For people to fall into cults?

Doesn't matter who they are, or whether the cult likes them or not. Frankly, if the cult just say 'you look tired/lonely... just come to ONE of our meetings. You can rest for a little... no need to think. We like you, we'll take care of you.' And then the meeting has all the wonderful nice little joyful parts, with lots of dopamine rushes for the tired/stressed/lonely person.

And they come back. Of course they do. Thats how its designed. Cults don't go for 40 year olds with stable social circles, happy lives and a nice middle class job. They'll go for depressed mid life crisis people, isolated young men, (new parents interestingly), often young women coming out of abusive relationships, and now with the internet teenagers.

'EVERYONE IN THE GYM CLASS GETS TO DO LAPS NOW.'

Its interesting that you bring this up because there have been hundreds of studies that this is a bad way to get through to people. In fact this is PROVEN to create anger, resentment, and isolation from about age 4-5 onwards. This is a full proof way to get people to leave the gym class, and when they can't (because in this case the gym class is just 'white people') they'll go into the arms of another teacher

'You are a group, and responsible for each other. If you don't want to run laps, make sure no one in the group does something stupid.'- this is collective punishment, and especially in situations where yk, not every white guy knows each other(?) And there are other inconsistencies like economic class and age which makes it very difficult to police each others actions and btw, the larger the group, the less effective this principle becomes.

'In that I hear a desperate fear to drown out the uncertainty of the rich tapestry of a varied human experience with an opiate-like acceptance.'-

Yes. Thats it pretty much. Thats what humans want, you want that dopamine to keep flowing in your head. What you're missing here is though, is that your upbringing and social situation plays a role in this. Your resistance, and even derision to this concept, comes from it not being a consistent facet in your life. This usually happens after isolation and intense feelings of hopelessness. When you don't have people to give you the dopamine and human connection you need... this will happen. Theres no 2 ways about it, it will happen. That is when you get therapy. And before the analysis, before the improvement and work, a therapist will listen. listen and tell you that your feelings are ok, and only after that, will you work on them.

'ou don't have to think too hard about it, as long as that warm blanket of surity hits as they smile'- yeah thats how conditioning and love bombing works.

'Man up.'- dumbest advice i've ever heard. genuinely. when has this ever worked for anyone. 'I'm struggling' 'Just don't'.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[magniloquent-raven]

"Oh, good, you are alive." Eddie says as soon as Tommy opens his front door. He pushes his way into the house without waiting for a response, and leaves Tommy blinking at empty space.

"...Sure, come on in," he mutters.

"Would it kill you to answer your phone some time?" Eddie's standing in the living room, hands on his hips, looking at Tommy like he's expecting something.

And Tommy's still lingering in his own doorway, suddenly very aware of how ripe his PJs have gotten. "It's my day off." It's a lame excuse and he knows it. He turns away to shut the door so he won't have to look Eddie in the eye.

"It's been, like, three weeks, man."

Tommy sighs quietly. "Yeah, look, it's just..."

"Is this the part where you tell me you both love me equally and it isn't my fault mommy and daddy are getting divorced." He's being flippant, but there's anger there. Tension in his voice. Tommy's not sure if it's on his own behalf or Evan's. Either would be fair, probably.

No. No, it isn't. It's not fair. He doesn't get to storm in here and judge Tommy's life choices. It's not like he's happy with himself about this, he didn't want to break things off. It just. Didn't work out.

"We don't, Eddie."

"What?"

Tommy folds his arms across his chest. "Love you equally. He needs you more than I do."

"What happened to me being allowed to have more than one friend?"

You know what happened, Tommy wants to snap, wants to be the kind of person who gets so angry he breaks, bleeds the tension out. He wants to untangle the knot that's been tightening in his chest for weeks.

Instead he hunches his shoulders. "Nothing, you have plenty of friends. A whole station of them." Tommy bites the inside of his lip so hard he tastes iron, and his eyes fall shut for a moment while he collects himself. "I was trying to make things easier for you."

Eddie narrows his eyes. "Yeah, nothing easier than getting ghosted. In fact, I love it when people I care about suddenly stop talking to me."

"You know what I meant. You have to take his side."

"Oh, I am. Breaking up with him like that was stupid, and he's really hurt."

Tommy barely contains his wince.

"But you were my friend before you were his boyfriend." Eddie's expression shifts, not quite softening. "I'm not here to defend Buck's honour, I'm here because my friend isn't making good choices and I'm worried about him."

He cried that night three weeks ago. Held off until he'd made it home and then bawled like a child, curled up in the dark and not bothering to wipe the snot from his nose. He hasn't cried since. Not when he found one of Evan's sweaters shoved between the cushions on his couch. Not when a date night reminder he forgot to delete from his phone dinged three days ago. Every time he wakes up to nothing but empty lock-screen he feels a little more hollow thinking about all the texts he used to get in the middle of the night.

But he hasn't been crying about it. Until now.

He's not sure what it is exactly. Something about Eddie refusing to let Tommy stonewall him. Something about all the things he's gone through alone never mattering to anyone. Not enough to warrant more than courtesy comfort.

"Woah, hey, was it something I said?"

Tommy shakes his head, and wipes his cheek with the heel of his hand. "It's been a weird few weeks."

It has, is the thing. He used to be good at being alone. But six months of borrowed time was enough for him to be in a lot deeper than he thought. He doesn't just miss Evan he misses being invited to his family dinners, and hearing about life with the 118.

"How 'bout I drink your beer while you tell me about it."

"...Okay."

[flowersforbucky]

sucker for you

peter maximoff x reader

word count: 1.2k

i can't stop thinking about how peter would react to reader taking his lollipop from him and putting it in her mouth so here's a little drabble about that

a/n: i should be working on this bucky piece that i started like 3 weeks ago but i just needed to get this out of my system first

warnings/tags: language, use of alcohol (everyone is 21+!!), no use of y/n, peter's pov, and some ✨️tension✨️

Peter didn't know it was possible to get so flustered over a human being.

He's never exactly considered himself to be a ladies man, but around you? He's hopeless. A lost cause. Every time he's near you, it feels like his first very day ever interacting with another person.

From the way that your smile reaches your eyes whenever he makes you laugh with a stupid joke to the way that you always smell sweeter than the candy that he eats too much of, he's been a goner for you since the day he first met you.

And the worst part? You seem to know exactly how to make him blush.

As per usual on Friday nights, yours and Peter's group of friends is hanging out in the woods behind the mansion. You're all lounging around a bonfire that Scott works to keep going strong, talking amongst yourself in pairs.

"You know, I heard Warren telling Scott that he's planning on asking you to the winter gala," Jean snickers to you.

Peter isn't trying to eavesdrop, really. Jean just has zero volume control when she has any amount of alcohol in her system. He'd be able to hear every word she's saying even if you and her weren't sitting right next to him.

"What?" Jean demands when you offer no response other than some giggles and a shake of your head. "You've already turned two people down. You're kinda running low on options at this point.”

He twists the stem of the cherry flavored lollipop that he's sucking on, trying and failing to focus on whatever it is that Kurt's rambling on about. His body is angled away from yours, but he can feel the vibration of your low laughter from where your shoulder rests against his.

Peter had heard that you've been asked to the gala that Charles throws in the name of the X-Men every year. He couldn't lie, he was relieved when he'd found out that you had shot down the suitors - not that he'd ever have the balls to ask you himself. He had no desire to be added to the list of people that you've rejected to a glorified prom.

“So? I can go alone. Going alone is better than going with anyone who isn't the person that I actually want to go with,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.

Peter tenses at your words, his stomach doing a somersault.

“And who would that be?” Jean asks in a teasing voice, almost like she already knows the answer.

Before you can respond, Peter quickly shoots to his feet. Kurt comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a sentence, and both you and Jean turn to look up at him from where you still sit on the old, fallen tree that is being used as a bench.

“Where're you going?” You ask. Peter knows it's probably wishful thinking, but he can't help but think that there's a hint of disappointment in your voice.

“Back to the mansion. I've gotta take a whiz,” he retorts, hoping he sounds casual. Truthfully, he can't stand the thought of having to hear you say some dude's name in response to Jean's question.

“Since when are you above pissing in the woods?” Scott laughs as he piles some more branches onto the bonfire.

Peter shoots him an obscene gesture, about to bolt in the direction of the mansion when he feels your hand wrap around his from beneath him. You begin to get up, and he instinctively helps pull you into a standing position.

“I'll walk back with you,” you tell him as you drop his hand. “I'm going to grab a few more beers.” You smile at him in the orange glow of the fire and he forgets how to speak. He motions as if to say after you and you begin walking in the direction of the mansion.

He's fully aware that he could have the two of you back to the school in a split-second, but despite how nervous he gets around you, he'd never pass up the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with you. Living here, you're both almost always surrounded by other people. If it's not Jean, it's Storm. If it's not Storm, it's Raven or Hank. If it's it's not –

“I just had to get away from that,” you sigh when the two of you are out of earshot from the others. “I love her, but Jean can be kind of relentless,” you add with a small laugh.

“You can say that again,” he agrees, his voice mumbled from the lollipop stuffed between his teeth and his check. “Just the other day she was saying that I should ask someone.”

“Yeah?” You quip, a curious edge to your tone. “And are you going to?”

“Nah,” Peter shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Like you said, it's better to go alone than to go with someone who isn't the person you really like.”

“So what's stopping you from asking her? Is she already going with someone else?”

“No,” he answers, coming to a stop in the middle of the moonlit path the two of you are walking on. “She's not. But she's already turned down basically everyone in the school, so I don't think I stand much of a chance.”

Sometimes Peter starts a sentence without knowing where it’s going, but right now even he's shocked by his words. He's not quite sure where the bravery came from, but he can't exactly take it back now. You're not stupid - he knows you can read between the lines to deduce who he's talking about.

You come to a halt, turning back to look at him. He offers a small, nervous smirk and resists the urge to dash away before you can reply to his confession.

“Three people isn't basically everyone in the school,” you chuckle with one of those grins that could bring Peter to his knees. You take a few slow steps towards him, stopping when your chest is just inches from his. Your gaze flickers from his eyes and down to his mouth before you reach a hand up to his face and pinch the stem of his lollipop between your thumb and index finger, plucking it from his mouth.

His eyes widen in surprise, all but bulging out of his head when you pop what's left of the red lollipop into your own mouth. You swirl it around in your mouth, your plump lips wrapped around the stick.

“But for what it's worth, the whole school could ask me and there's only one person who would get a yes out of me.”

You pull the lollipop from between your lips and hold it back up to Peter's mouth, resting it against his bottom lip until he parts them - to speak or to accept the sucker, he's not sure. But he doesn't do anything to stop you when you guide it back inside his mouth, the flavor of the cherry candy and your saliva infiltrating his senses when it meets his tongue.

“Just in case you were wondering,” you shrug, and turn to continue your walk back to the mansion as if you didn't just make his heart combust in his chest.

He speeds after you, deciding that maybe Jean has a point - maybe he should ask someone after all.

•••••

thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for peter, i'd very much appreciate comments/reblogs 💕

[inamindfarfaraway]

I also like the logo of Eggman looming large behind Sonic, overlapping with him, because though it’s less direct, Surge is raging against Eggman and the cyclical narrative he’s equally responsible for too. After all, without Eggman the Starline who made her and Kit wouldn’t have existed. From her perspective, Sonic and Eggman are not diametrically opposed. They’re united in being the Main Characters who always do what they want, no matter the cost; and being powerful on a level that no ordinary person, not even one with superpowers, can stand up to. Kit was right when he said that they both want him and Surge to conform with their interests (but wrong that Sonic doesn’t also genuinely want the siblings to be happy). They both have their own styles that they won’t change. If you believe that change is the best, most necessary thing, they’re both your enemy.

Adding onto the original point about the gap between Sonic and Surge, there’s a similar gap between Tails and Kit. Tails has extraordinary, exceptional intelligence to rival Eggman’s, and incredible skill in a wide range of scientific fields from astrophysics to biology to mechanical engineering to computer science. His mind is as freakishly capable as Sonic’s legs. If he can dream it, he can do it given enough time and materials. And Kit… just can’t compete with that. Kitsunami, who is canonically a few years older than Tails (Starline assumed Tails was older than he was, because eight is ridiculous; I put Kit at ten), is an extremely intelligent child. But he’s closer to a real-life prodigy than the likes of Tails. He can effectively use his special equipment due to training and has great strategic and digital prowess, but we haven’t seen him show the general mechanical expertise or gifts for other scientific disciplines that Tails effortlessly exhibits. He hasn’t invented any new machines of his own, for example. And remember that Starline taught Kit, while Tails hasn’t had any formal education in science that we know of.

No, Tails didn’t need to be taught. He didn’t need cybernetic implants. He wasn’t his mentor’s intellectual protégé - Sonic knows far less than him. All his friends and allies know less than him. He has natural talent. He taught himself, while he was homeless, while living independently, while regularly busy with heroics. Tails is running circles around Kit at a younger age. Kit would be a kid genius in our world, but in Sonic’s world he’ll always be overshadowed by a fantastical outlier. He isn’t stupid, just as Surge objectively isn’t weak, but by God can the people they were created to surpass and replace to make them feel like it.

Yet another reason, on top of Tails being happy and fulfilled and emotionally secure and confident and having many strong bonds of unconditional love and being a more ‘useful’ sidekick and repeatedly defeating Kit and breaking his trust (even accidentally), why it makes perfect sense for Kit to hate his guts. Tails is everything he wants to be! And thinks he’s failing to be! That’s painful!

I think I like Surge because she's objectively like. Kinda mid? She's like, Knuckles level powerful. She can't even beat base Sonic in a 1v1, you can forget about Shadow or Super Sonic. She's an underdog. And that makes her interesting. She dodges any notion of being someone's edgy overpowered OC because she's up against Sonic the fucking Hedgehog, and Sonic is just that guy. It makes her easy to root for.

[neverthatsirius-jo]

1982, JAPAN'S QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP.

summary — in which james' biggest safety hazard on the quidditch field is not the bludgers but being in love with you.

content — james potter x fem!reader, fluff

word count — ~800

a/n — me posting five days after i said i would never write again and privated all my works: 🤡. thank you @foodiegoogie for reading this before i post <3 (go read her fics, i recommend). no pun in the title this time folks. terrible.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“You’re so stupid.”

You drag the piece of cotton lathered in rubbing alcohol across the considerable gash that covered the length of his left cheek almost entirely. He winces and you have to bite your lip to try and not laugh.

“I think you mean romantic.” He grabs your hips, getting you closer to where he is, sitting on the counter of the hotel room’s bathroom you were in. It was the fifth hotel room you had been in the past month, while you were following him around Japan, where the Quidditch world cup was being hosted that year.

“No, I mean stupid.”

He sticks out his tongue in response.

The grand final, Japan vs. England—the team James had worked his arse off to get into for years—and he’d managed to get injured in the last couple of minutes of the game, rendering him useless for the rest of it and part of the celebrations. He’d had no time to sulk about it; they’d won anyways, and his performance across the several other matches had been nothing short of phenomenal. The media unanimously agreed on that end. The whole of England too, save for a few pretentious gits that desperately needed to set themselves apart from the rest.

“People are allowed to have an opinion, love,” he’d said when you’d finished your rant against them, red in the face.

“Well, not that one.”

The incident plays in your mind again, and now that you’re not worried about his safety you can laugh about it. You don’t, though, instead biting your lip to prevent it. Excited and proud of your boyfriend for scoring—for the who-knows-th time, you’d honestly lost count—, you had yelled his name and waved your arms to get his attention. And gotten his attention you had; he let go of his broom to form a heart with his hands, letting you know he had dedicated the play to you.

You tried warning him about the goalpost he was dangerously approaching but it had been too late and the crowds cheering drowned out your voice. Not that you were close enough for him to hear anyway. He crashed, hitting the side of his head, and fell off his broom. Merlin knows it could have been much worse if one of his teammates hadn’t grabbed him before he hit the ground.

You’d run to take care of a very disoriented James, who kept trying to joke with the mediwizards—keyword being trying; you are still pretty sure nothing that came out of his mouth made sense—, in one of the medical tents they had for such cases.

‘The culprits that make you end up here are usually bludgers, not pretty girls’ James told you, laying on a makeshift bed, slurring his words but seemingly in a moment of lucidity. You grabbed his hand that was poking around your face and caressed it with your thumb.

That was precisely why you now found yourself at five a.m. cleaning his wounds and changing the plasters on his face after the bar celebrations.

You felt guilty, no matter how much he assured you there was no reason for you to feel that way. You were glad he didn’t seem to care one bit that he had been totally out of it—product of whatever potion they gave him to keep him going for the time being and dispatch him quickly—the moment England raised the cup, celebrating their victory.

“You didn’t like my heart?” He pouts exaggeratedly, lowering his face to find your gaze, now completely focused on the placement of the plaster.

“I’m more fond of your head staying in one piece.” You get his face back to its previous position, acting annoyed. “And in place, please and thank you.”

Once finished with the plaster, you grab his head with both hands and plant a kiss on top of it.

“It’ll heal faster,” you mutter before placing another peck, this time on his lips.

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks an eyebrow, his smile widens. “You should be a mediwitch.”

You pretend to think about it for a second and nod in agreement. You stand there staring at the other for a few seconds—you mainly checking if you have missed any wounds—before he throws his head back and groans.

“What is it?”

“Sirius will never let me hear the end of it,” he lifts himself off the counter, and kneels to pick up the wrappers and pieces of cotton he’d dragged with him.

“He should try hitting his head every once in a while, maybe then he will break a scoring record like the ‘promising rising star James Potter’,” you quote the article he’d run to show you last week, the day after the first match.

He laughs as you get out of the bathroom, both of your arms around each other’s waist, and you leaning on him. England, fans and journalists alike, could try to claim him for themselves all they wanted but he was, at the end of the day, unequivocally and solely yours.

thank you for reading, reblogs and replies are always appreciated <3

back to masterlist

[tulippanes]

𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆

v. — catch that dog.. again!

warnings: i've defrosted

prev ➥ m.list ➥ next

Bathing a dog can go two ways. Either successfully or it'll be pure hell. With Hank? It's always the latter option, so it's good to be prepared. Well, maybe you over prepared a little. Just a teeny bit.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Koushi asks as he narrows his eyes.

"I'm taking precautions."

"By wearing goggles, gloves, and a floatie?" He crosses his arms over his chest and raised a brow. Okay yeah, you were definitely over prepared. Quite dramatic too, but it's Hank of all dogs. The little troublemaking corgi that'll probably somehow manage to learn to bury you alive. That Hank.

"The hazmat suit didn't come in time."

"You're bathing a dog," he says in exasperation. He thinks you're being ridiculous. When does he ever not?

"Have you ever bathed Hank?"

"...Just take off the floatie. You look stupid."

"Yeah. Hot mysterious man might see you looking stupid." You flinch when Tadashi randomly pops up from behind you. Turning to look over your shoulder, you glare at him and he snickers. Couldn't he just let that mystery man go? It's starting to make you regret telling them about him. You should've known, especially with the way they all started obsessing about people you've merely breathed around ever since the breakup with your ex.

You like to think you're over him, over that relationship. It's a nice thought to have. But that's all there is to it, just a thought. A thought that aids in trying to push down that aching.

With a sigh you slip off the floatie and step out of it. "Will you stop bringing him up? I don't even know the guy," you mutter. You were about to pick it up before a dog darts over to grab it and sprints away with it. Koushi was quick to run after it, telling the animal off all the while.

"Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Like how you haven't seen him since you met him?"

"Yes, Tadashi. That's what I've been saying." You roll your eyes as you take off the goggles and gloves.

Tadashi stares at you for a moment. He knows you're lying, that's what he believes. Of course you're lying to them about bumping into the guy that caught Hank. You've seen him what, three days in a row after meeting? But if you were to tell any of them that, let alone all of them, they'd go crazy.

"Are you really sure you didn't see him?" Hitoka asks from behind you, causing you to flinch once again in surprise. Damn, what was up with them suddenly appearing behind you so randomly?

You groan, "I'm sure. Don't you guys have dogs to take care of?" You shoo the two away and they let out protests.

"But there's just no way you haven't bumped into him again!" Hitoka says and Tadashi vigorously nods.

They were about to argue some more. Persitant, those two were. That is until Yui walks over and they scurry away. She shakes her head, a sigh escaping past her.

"They'll do anything but work," she mumbles.

She then turns to face you with a kind smile and the slightest glint of empathy in her eyes. "It's grooming day for Hank, isn't it? You don't need any help?" she asks softly. Really, probably the best supervisor you could ever ask for.

You ponder about it for a moment. The first time you bathed Hank, you gave up halfway through and Yui had to step in to help you with the rest. The second time... You don't like to think about the second time. Especially since he'd been unusually cranky that day. From then on, you've done alright. Bathing Hank is in it's own category of dog grooming and you're practically a professional in that aspect.

"I'll be fine," you shrug. She pats your shoulder and smiles in response. She looks down at the goggles and gloves you were holding.

"What are those for?"

"Safety precautions."

Yui opens her mouth to say something but then closes it. She carefully takes them from you. She places her hand on your shoulder again, this time giving it a small squeeze. "You'll be fine," she reassures and walks off.

Yeah. You'll be fine. Everything will turn out a-okay. Speak of the devil, Hank trots up to you with a toy in his mouth. Those beady little eyes stare practically right into your soul and he tilts his head to the side. He really was such a little cutie sometimes. You coo and lean down to grab him but then he dashes away.

He's not cute anymore. Little shit. It's like he has a 6th sense that you'll be bathing him today.

He has you running in circles before Kanoka was able to pick him up when he tried to speed past her. "What're you doing, tiring the poor girl out, hm?" she says as the corgi licks her cheek. She giggles at your out-of-breath form.

"Bath time?"

"Is– Is it easy to tell?" you ask breathlessly.

"He always has you running around before he takes a bath. It's like he knows," she smiles. Oh, so it wasn't just you who thought that Hank somehow knew it was the day you'd bathe him. She hands the dog to you and he squirms in your arms. You huff and take him to the grooming area.

"It's just a little shower, okay?" you say. Hank continues to squirm, even as you set him down in the stainless steel tub he tries to jump out. You grab a hold of him earlier than he could. It's a little feeling but he's probably going to give you a hard time today. Turning on the water and grabbing the shower head, you wet his coat. When you reach over to grab the shampoo, maybe it was a bad idea to let go of him for that one second.

The corgi shakes off the water, which unfortunately gets all over you, and leaps out of the tub, scampering off through the crack of the door.

You thought you fully closed that door.

You were quick to turn off the water and chase after him. You thought you caught him when he couldn't find an escape through the entrance doors of the Bone Zone. But then Tadashi suddenly opens them and comes through after taking out the trash.

Then Hank slips through.

Tadashi watches the small corgi zoom past. He turns to you and notices your wet shirt, awkwardly averting your glower. "Tadashi," you say and he stiffens.

"Move."

"Yes ma'am."

You're going to have to catch that damn dog.. Again.

Hajime leaves his gym a little earlier than usual. Mostly because he had to head to work a little earlier than usual. His phone vibrates in his pocket. He's been ignoring that forsaken groupchat since yesterday. All those three idiots do is get unwanted answers out of him. He wonders if it counts as manipulation of the sorts.

Reluctantly, he takes out his phone from his pocket to read the time. 10:32 AM. He slips his phone back into the pocket of his shorts. He chugs the rest of his water from his bottle, making his way towards his car. In all honesty his day started out okay. His workout was okay. Everything feels fine. Yet he can't get this strange feeling out of his system. It's like an odd sense of deja vu even if nothing's happened yet.

"Hey! Watch out!"

He sees a blur of fawn and white coming right at him. Maybe it's an instinct, if he can even call it that since he's only caught the fast little thing once, but he catches the dog before it could run past him. He grimaces at the feeling of its wet coat, that wet dog smell hits him in the face too. The same corgi he's seen for the fifth time now wriggles in his hands. He holds the dog more securely in his arms even if it gets his shirt a little wet. Guess this is what caused that deja vu.

Then his eyes meet hers. Guess his hopes were lived up to. He hasn't seen her in a day yet it felt like weeks. It's like their first encounter. She jogs up to him, out of breath, a grateful smile on her face. Whenever she smiles at him he always gets a weird tingly feeling. Her shirts wet and it's especially noticeable with the way it clings onto her skin, he notes. Actually he shouldn't be noting that. It's creepy. It's also rude to stare. He's still staring anyway, it's not until she speaks up that his eyes snap back to look at her face. Even looking at her face is hard though. He can't help but notice all her pretty features.

"Hey, you! This is the second time you've caught Hank, huh? I guess I owe you double now?" she says. She takes the dog from his arms and their hands brush again just as it did at their first meeting. It's still electrifying and makes him pull back quickly.

"Yeah. Uh– Wait no, it's fine. It's fine... You don't need to give me anything at all. Nothing." He's stuttering again. He's making himself look stupid again. Will there ever be a time where he doesn't make himself look like some complete idiot in front of her? Most likely not.

"Aw, c'mon. Don't be so uptight!" she playfully scolds. Hajime tenses at her words. Uptight? He's not being uptight. Why would he be uptight? There's no reason to be uptight. Him? Uptight?

...He's overthinking this.

"You're a little silly, y'know," she says with a small laugh. He made her laugh again. There's that sense of pride whirling inside him once more. He only met her last Thursday and he's already acting all giddy about every smile and giggle he can get out of her. He's a goner, he has to admit that he is. Love at first sight only exists in movies, books, TV shows, everything but reality.

Yet here he is, living proof of it. Ironic, really.

Hajime awkwardly chuckles and couldn't find a response. But she always seems to salvage the conversation. "Thank you," she pauses, "I've thanked you a lot, huh? Well, how can I not when you've helped me twice now. Er, three times technically.. If you agreeing to walk with me that time counts."

"It's no biggie. You don't have to keep thanking me," he shrugs. He thinks about his response before quickly backtracking.

"Uh. Not that I mind. It's nice to help you– Someone. It's nice to help someone."

There's that laugh, a bright smile on her face shining more so than the sun itself. His throat goes dry, starting to regret chugging all his water. It's a little weird. Meeting her just last week and already having his hands go clammy whenever she's around. Having his heart race if he stares into her eyes too much. It's weird. But.. He kind of likes it. Kind of.

"Coming from the gym again? You're really persistent! You must go everyday then? Well duh since you have a really physique. You have really nice muscles!" He can feel his cheeks heating up. Didn't she compliment his figure the other day too? She's... Extremely bold. Or she doesn't second guess her words. It makes him feel embarrassed and a little fuzzy inside.

"Were you bathing him or something?" he asks.

She nods, "Uh-huh. Sorry, did he get you wet? He got me a little wet too..." She switches the corgi in her arms to hold it with one instead of both. Then she motions to her shirt. It was dryer than it was before, thank goodness. He quickly shifts his gaze to look at the dog. The corgi's little paws were dirty.

"I'm gonna have to shower him again. Ugh, now he's stinkier than before," she grumbles, nose scrunching. He didn't even notice that he was smiling until she points it out.

"Oh! You have a nice smile. I like it." His face grows hot a second time.

"Are you hot? You're cheeks are all pink," she asks. She just had to notice the stupid blush on his face. He needed to change the topic.

"Yeah a little. Anyway, you were bathing him, right? Do you usually do stuff like that at a dog daycare?" he questions.

"Yeah! Well, kind of. We usually bathe them when their owner schedules for them to. Hank usually gets bathed around every six or seven weeks. It all really depends on the dog! You shouldn't bathe them too much though or–" She pauses and he looks at her confused.

She looks sheepish now and she holds the corgi with both her arms now, it squirms slightly before licking her chin. "Sorry. I'm rambling huh? It must be boring."

He blinks at her, "What? No. I like listening to yo– Er, to this stuff." This time, she blinks at him. Did he say something wrong? Okay, sure, he almost let it slip past that he liked listening to her. It was probably weird to hear from a guy she met last Thursday. Her short moment of silence makes him nervous.

"You're a nice guy– Uhm," she frowns. Now she's frowning right after complimenting him.

"Hey! I never actually got your name. Isn't that weird? We even took a walk together!"

Oh. His name. Right. Hajime doesn't even know her name either. "It's–" He gets cut off by an unknown male's voice, calling out to presumably her since she perks up and turns around. He looks over and sees a gray haired male who stops a few feet away from them.

"Huh? Koushi? Uhm, this is my coworker," she says and nods towards the other male. Her newly introduced coworker looks at Hajime before looking back at her, then going back and forth between looking at the two.

Her coworker looks like he would say something but she beat him to it, letting out a loud cough. "That's my sign to go. I'll get your name next time, yeah?" She waves at him, her coworker staring before she ushers him to walk.

He couldn't even spit out his name before he was interrupted. Still, she did mention a next time. So yeah, next time.

"Is that hot mysterious man?"

"Don't know what you're talking about." You couldn't believe Koushi had to have caught you and the mystery man talking. Right when he was about to tell you his name too. He has horrible timing. Well, maybe the best timing in his point of view. Since he got a glimpse of what he looked like and was full on staring. You were definitely taking too long to come back, Yui probably sent him to go out and check on you if you needed help.

"So you were lying when you said you haven't seen him since the day you met him?"

"You better not tell no one. Keep your mouth shut." Because of everyone were to know that you've been bumping into him almost 4 times in a row, all hell would break loose. They'd lose their shit.

"How many times have you seen him?" Koushi asks. You glance over at him and hold Hank a little closer to your chest. You can feel him squirming, wanting to be let down. He was definitely restless from you holding him for so long.

"...Friday, Saturday, Sunday," you mumble.

"Three times in a row? So what is this? The fifth time? That's practically fate at this point!" You purse your lips at his statement. See?

"He was cute."

"Yeah."

"So you think he's cute?"

"Why do you guys always do that?" you huff in annoyance. You both stop in front of the entrance to the Bone Zone.

"What? You don't wanna date him or something?" he asks teasingly. He was just messing around, but you still can't help the look on your face. The deadpanned expression in which he always mimics back at you.

"No, Koushi. I don't want to date him. I barely know the guy," she says with a huff.

"Are you still stuck on you know who?" You freeze at that question. You know damn well that Koushi was asking if you're still reveling over what happened with your ex. Sometimes you miss the guy. Just thew few moments where he made you feel wanted and wasn't a complete piece of shit. Were you still stuck on him? There was only one thing you can answer that with.

"I don't know," you whisper.

He gives you a soft smile, opening the door for you to enter. He places a hand on your back and gives you a small push. "C'mon. I'll help you bathe Hank."

"Ha! Like you can help with that," you snort. Hank almost jumps out of your arms but you securely hold him. Damn dog, such a cutie but such a handful. He scoffs and enters right behind you, placing his hands on his hips.

"Oh? We can bet."

"25."

"Deal."

ncjf

𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒:

three musketeers miss their gym rat

yes. Kanoka physically dragged you out of the car

#strongbaddie

Hajime folding pt 22893749 (more to come next chapter)

omg ex lore but not really

still don't know each others names sad face emoji (will also happen next chapter)

koushi and you bet but the winner is obvious

can you tell the pov change with the lil dividers pls say yes

a/n chpt 5 now finished omg im so sorry for the 2+ weeks wait this should've been out ages ago but I got super busy i feel like those parents that promise their kid sumn only to never get it for them LMFAO anyway THANK U ALL FOR 100 FOLLOWERS WHAT i feel so famous should I do a special or sumn..... can u guys tell i lwk suck at 2nd person ugh anyway more chapters WILL be coming soon dw this isn't the only one i'll publish this week (hopefully, watch me not post until next month) i'll prob fix mistakes tmr i love u all MUAH

tags

@blueballslock @akaashislovee @shookykookie30 @wyrcan @darling-eos @pelicanpizza @bakugouswh0r3 @mawenskiblue @phoenix-eclipses @s777athv @toorusfangirl @zazathezaer @strawberry-sanzu @oneiratxxia10 @tsukiesimp @yessimo @ghostreader0307 @nifflermini @mochroialainn @bunninio @honeyynuttsss @purple-snowfox @weezerbby @mjustag1rl @iluv-ace @aumarias @madiexuberant @ikisswonbin @thiisisntlovely @idkanymorebuthere @bakingcuriosity

p.s. those in blue couldn't be tagged 😞

[sophieinwonderland]

Many Americans I have seen: *Says they are pro freedom and democracy.*

Also many Americans: *Votes for a guy who doesn't believe in democracy when he doesn't win, and who literally wants to be a dictator and has taken great measures (like what he did with supreme court) to ensure he becomes one.*

Maybe it's just me, but I, a non-American, can't comprehend the logic here lol...

Well, here is one thing that I can clear up. Republicans don't support democracy.

At least not over the past few elections.

You could see this most notably whenever the topic would come up of the electoral college. Democrats would point out the fundamental problems with the winner of the presidency being somebody who lost the popular vote by 3 million votes and how undemocratic it is. A popular response then became that America is not a democracy. That we are a "republic."

This is an incredibly stupid talking point because a republic is a representative democracy. The idea behind a republic is just that the people elect representatives to represent them rather than voting on legislation directly. It does not somehow make it anymore logical to have a president who was elected by a minority of the population.

But the anti-democracy talking points have been big with Republicans ever since the 2016 election.

To get more to the point... Rural Republicans feel threatened by the fact that the country's policies are being decided by large cities. They believe that because they occupy the most land, that they should be the ones in charge of the country rather than these concentrated areas with the densest population.

They view the very concept of democracy as tyranny of the majority. The irony being missed is that what they are actually supporting is a tyranny of the minority.

And let me say... I can understand where some of them are coming from. You come up to rural Oregon, for example, and one of the biggest issues is the logging industry regulations.

Oregon has been a logging state since forever. Heavy environmental regulations have destroyed countless jobs throughout the rural parts of the state. And these regulations haven't been coming from the places that are actually affected. They are coming from the big cities where forests aren't something you live near and around, but are a rare novelty you get to see when you travel.

I am not saying that environmental protections are bad. But the people who passed the environmental regulations didn't replace the jobs they destroyed with anything. If families in rural communities go hungry or lose their homes because logging restrictions destroyed their industries, that's not going to be a problem to anyone living in the city. They wouldn't even know about it, but if they did, they probably wouldn't care much.

So democracy, to Republicans, really just means that people who are living far away from them get to decide what happens to their communities.

But... Having pointed out some of the reasoning for why Republicans feel the way that they do, I also need to point out how much worse they actually are in this regard.

Their problem with the perceived tyranny of the majority isn't the tyranny. It's that the other guys get to be the tyrants.

Because while it is true that decisions made by people who aren't living in the areas affected can unintentionally be harmful to those areas... Much of the current Republican mentality is designed intentionally to hurt people and exert control.

When a Republican area needs disaster relief, this isn't a partisan issue. If part of the country is hurting, we mobilize and do what we can for them. But when people like Trump threaten to cut funding to fight wildfires in California and just let it burn, he is met with resounding applause from his base.

For as much as they claim to be against a tyranny of the majority... Republicans would happily cut off all disaster relief funding from liberal areas just out of pure spite.

As another example of conservative opinions on Democracy and freedom, you might look to this quote which they love to misattribute to Ben Franklin.

“Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to eat for dinner. Liberty is a well armed lamb contesting the vote”

That certainly sounds reasonable... until you spend more than a few seconds thinking about it.

If the lamb is the only one armed, then what is there to stop the lamb from imposing his will on others? For all the flaws democracy has... "liberty is using threats of violence to impose your will on the majority" sounds like the worst form of government. It's a military dictatorship.

There's also another version of the quote, one from the Los Angeles Times in 1992, that conservatives desperately need take a look at.

Democracy is not freedom. Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to eat for lunch. Freedom comes from the recognition of certain rights which may not be taken, not even by a 99% vote.

The point of this quote is that freedom requites acknowledgment that some rights need to be protected and are too important to leave up to the majority.

Freedom requires that those be preserved.

But Republicans aren't a party that care about freedom for anyone but themselves. Much of their platform is designed around taking rights from people. Especially from marginalized communities. Limiting the ability to vote, to marry, to have autonomy over your own body, even to use the bathroom of your choice!

This was a long post, but the TL;DR is this: Modern Republicans openly hate Democracy, and only pretend to support freedom while actively trying to strip people of their liberties.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

for kinktober: Eddie Munson giving oral to a transmasc reader?

ofc, thanks for the kinktober request <3 (I really hope he isn't out of character here)

Kinktober 2024 Day 18: Eddie Munson giving oral to a transmasc reader

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, cunnilingus/oral sex (reader receiving), slight hair pulling, Eddie's a massive tease, swearing

You were over at Eddie's trailer for what was supposed to be guitar lessons. You'd always wanted to learn, and luckily for you the town's resident bad boy not only owned a guitar himself but was also kind enough to offer to teach you how to play. That's what you'd initially planned on doing, anyway, until things got sidetracked in one of the lewdest ways possible.

He definitely didn't expect you to show up wearing cut-off shorts with a spaghetti-strap tank top of all things, but in your defense Hawkins had been having an unusually hot fall and you didn't want to be sitting in a trailer that had no air conditioner for hours on end while you were sweating your ass off.

"Damn, sweetheart. I was going to make a joke about you having to repay me for guitar lessons, but if you're going to show up dressed like this every time I guess there's no need," he lightly teased, letting his eyes linger on your bare arms and legs a bit longer than he probably should.

"Haha, very funny, Munson." You thought nothing of his comments as you rolled your eyes, chalking them up to being nothing more than the usual flirty quips he'd throw out whenever he saw you. It wasn't as if he was attracted to you or anything like that, he just acted like that around everyone his age. That's what you'd convinced yourself, anyway.

"Seriously, you should wear shorts more often. The legs on you are enough to make a man drool," he continued with a cheeky smirk, watching as you flopped down on his bed with a certain sense of casual ease. You'd been over to his place so often you didn't even think twice about it. "And don't even get me started on those arms and collarbones."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it already, you pervert," you lightheartedly complained while tossing a pillow in his direction, which he caught before it could hit him in the face. You hated to admit it, but the playful compliments he was throwing your way was starting to actually have an affect on you. You could feel your face growing hot, and it wasn't due to the weather.

Eddie wasn't stupid, either, despite what other people might think. He knew just how much his words were getting to you, which is why he wasn't at all fazed by your complaints or the way you threw one of his pillows at him.

"Ouch, sweetheart. That really hurts to know a pervert is all you view me as," he feigned offence while making his way over to the bed, setting the pillow back down as he sat next to you. "And here I thought you might actually like me."

"Oh, shut up," you huffed with another eye roll, starting to run out of retorts to his nonstop teasing. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he actually liked you, but there was no way that was possible.

"Make me." He leaned in some, the smirk that was on his face having widened into a grin. He wasn't really expecting you to do anything in response except for maybe giving him a shove before telling him to knock it off, but you were feeling a little bit bold today, bolder than usual.

Maybe it was the outfit you were wearing, maybe it was the heat, but whatever the case may be you were willing to take his dare and run with it. Which is how you found yourself laying back on his bed without your shorts or underwear on, his face trapped between your thighs as he ate you out like a starved man.

"Oh- Oh, my God-" You moaned out loudly as you arched your back up off the bed, your hand finding its way to his hair and giving it a sharp tug. "God, yes- Just like that-"

You could practically feel the way his lips were turned upwards into a smug position at your desperate cries of pleasure, and you had no doubt that he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

His tongue moved expertly throughout your dripping wet folds, zigzagging from one area to another as he slurped happily. The cold metal from his rings dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gripped them tightly, keeping them spread apart.

"God, baby, you taste even better than you look," he mused out loud as he lifted his head up some to glance at you, seeming amused by the way you shoved his head back down with your hand.

"I thought I told you to shut up already." Your words held no real malice to them, but he could tell you were going to be pissed if he kept denying you, so he didn't push it.

"Jesus, baby boy, calm down. I was just trying to give you a compliment, sweetheart, that's all." His mouth met your pussy again, pulling a long and loud whine from you when his nose intentionally bumped into your clit.

"You're doing this on purpose, you bastard," you accused while tightening your grip on his hair, something that made him let out a groan that seemed to reach your very core when the vibrations of the sound hit your pussy.

"Sorry," came out his muffled response as he finally stopped teasing you and got back to work at eating you out like he was supposed to be doing in the first place. You left out a quiet sigh of relief that was shortly followed by a series of needy moans, your fingers lacing through his hair as a grounding mechanism.

Learning how to play the guitar may have been a fun idea, but getting head from the guitarist himself ending up being a much better one, especially when he made you see stars from how good he was at doing it.

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[gelatonic]

Idk if you write for Leo Valdez but if you do!

Him and reader being enemies, like the whole camp has known about it. It’s a whole thing. Kinda annoying atp, like people just want them to get over it.

Chiron wanted the reader to help the Hephaestus cabin with a project and they end up being the last people there. getting stuck in bunker nine because someone forgot about them and locked the door and it was jammed, it was already passed dinner so likely shot was that they’d be found in the morning

One thing led to another, and reader said Leo didn’t know how to fuck. Leo took that as a challenge

(If it’s okay could I be🫀 or🚂 anon? And if you don’t write for Leo, you can switch it up to fit another character!)

leo x f!bratty!reader ꩜ .ᐟ ignore how long this took plz lovie ;3 smut!

it all started when he decided to be a meanie to you

here you were, minding your business and being all cute while you dance at the bonfire for the camp, and Leo Valdez has to go and comment something slanderous towards you!!!!!! yelled something about how he could dance better, and you just couldn't accept that, getting all huffy and puffy with crossed arms as you choose to ignore him forever from then on, except his stupid nagging wouldn't stop! it seems everything you do, he just has to comment on, but you weren't going to take that, no! so you bite back, things escalate, and now here you were with your one and only enemy at camp, Leo Valdez.

everyone else seemed to like you, yeah, so when Chiron asks you to help out with the hephaestus cabin, ofc you say yes!!!! why wouldn't you? all the other kids there besides Leo are such sweeties, you don't mind! but then it turns out its just Leo who needs help, which leads to you being cooped up with him in bunker nine :(

and so inevitably, he just has to say something not very nice to you, so you just have to say something back. but you just look so cute when you argue, when you get up to leave, he almost stops you! but Leo doesn't have to, when it seems you can't yank your way out the door.

you turn back, cheeks all puffed up and tinged pink as you cross your arms at him and stifle back to sitting on the floor, glaring at it. "can't believe I'm stuck with an idiot like you," you grumble, legs criss-cross applesauce on the floor, letting Leo look at the way your already-short skirt rides up your thighs.

"yeah, sweetheart?" he says exasperatedly, setting down his wrench and stopping whatever he's working on so he can get a good look at how upset you were right now, with that stupid smirk on his face! "its not like I want a brat like you here either, y'know."

"brat!?!!?" you yelp back, scrambling to your feet so you can stalk to him, finger pointing sharply at him accusingly, "I'm only a brat to you because you're mean to me!"

"mhm," he hums with an eyeroll, not taking anything you say seriously, "y'know, at least I provide to the camp, make all these things. what do you do, huh?"

"well at least I can fuck!"

ohhhhh no, you shouldn't have said that. now here you are, bent halfway over the cool metal slab of his workspace, getting rutted into from behind. "who can't fuck, huh babygirl?" he's huffing a calloused laugh from behind, pumping you full of his dick. one of his hands goes up to your ass, gripping a handful of flesh and kneading it under his fingers.

"soooo fuckin' bratty, aren't you? what, just need a good fucking from Leo to put you in your place?" all you can do is mewl and whimper in response, legs kicking and hips squirming, making him push on your lower back to keep you still as his hips smack yours.

he's laughing as he watches how your pussy sucks him up whole, balls deep, before he wrenches in and out making you cry. he's leaning his weight down on you, smushing your tits on the table as he thrusts in and out, hand yanking at your hair hard, making your scalp tingle.

"wonder how many times I can make you come before morning. would you like that baby? wanna cum on my dick til you pass out?" he coos, making you babble something unintelligible as your drool puddles on your lips and on the table, glassy eyes half-lidded.

"yeah, you'd like that, huh? all cummed out for me, hm?

he is not stopping anytime soon...!!

[princeclaudia]

I Love You (Merthur)

(I just posted my first fanfic to AO3, so I wanted to share it on here as well. I hope you enjoy this flowery little piece about Merlin and Arthur, from BBC Merlin, being in love)

“I love you.” 

Merlin never thought those words from that mouth could be a fact of his life. 

But, as something plops from the sky and into his chest, out of hope and into certainty, he realises that it is. 

Their relationship has always been up in the air. 

Its one of the only constants in either of their lives, through family, duty and betrayal, they always came back to this; banter over dinner and blankets being ripped away from a sleepy king in the morning. 

Merlin’s magic was proof of that. How it almost had a mind of its own, to reach out to Arthur, just to know where he is, to keep him safe. 

The ten seconds between, “I have magic” and, “I know”, where something Merlin wouldn’t wish on his worse enemy. 

This confession was different though. His magic was a secret, one that became a habit. It was muscle memory to drop the floating broom as Arthur’s familiar footsteps ricocheted off the hallways walls. Though the law change is just around the corner, and the habitants of the castle barely blink at the gold in his eyes, that instinct doesn’t go away overnight. 

But loving Arthur was like a second heartbeat. Non stop, motivating, and without thought. 

Well, now it doesn’t cause him panic. 

Merlin can’t pinpoint the moment Arthur’s closeness stopped making his hands clammy and his thoughts stutter. 

Maybe it washed away as Merlin became further crushed by his own significance, who he is and what he does, and the thousands, millions of people they affect. 

That lovesick fear didn’t need that much brain space anymore. Why waste the time he has with Arthur here and alive by fretting over the cute boy liking him back? 

He was content with what he got. 

Once or twice the thought about what exactly they were flickered insecurity at the back of his brain. Enough to make him spill wine on some visiting noble. Arthur was worried he was ill, conflicting and nurturing Merlin’s heart at once. 

How odd it was to just let what Arthur said wash over him, sinking into his skin, flowing through his blood. 

Because it’s not something that Arthur just gives out, he knows this. 

Too many times he’s had to translate Arthur’s emotions to Arthur, so there’s something intense, and slightly ego boosting, about the certainty that Arthur had as he confessed. 

It was a truly boring scenario for this to take place. 

No big events or victories or tragedies to justify a big declaration. But just them bickering, playful jabs that held underlying compliments. 

Then Arthur pausing, staring for a moment at Merlin. Just as with his own feelings, Merlin doesn’t remember when Arthur stopped looking away when Merlin caught him staring. 

Perhaps around when he was crowned King, and the world crashed down, challenging him to crumple. Luckily Merlin was there, and knew how to pick him back up. 

As Emrys, and soon to be Court Sorceror, draining responsibility was a new thing for the pair to bond over. 

Now when Arthur is caught in the act, it’s soft smiles, and maybe some teasing from Merlin, “See something you like sire?” 

In this moment however, Merlin wordlessly let’s him look, knowing that Arthur doesn’t find the folding of laundry that interesting. 

“It amazes me that you’re here” 

Arthur’s voice ripples through their comfortable quiet, not disruptive, but enough to catch Merlin’s attention, a confused chuckle escaping him. 

“How so? You’re the one who keeps me around.” 

“Well, the fact that you’re alive at all.” That made Merlin blush, an unexpected weight to their conversation. Arthur walks away from the table, forcing a casual slant to his frame.  “That you’re this powerful being. That you haven’t died from whatever stupid mission you barrel into.” 

Merlin snorts, turning his attention to the tunic in his hands. 

“That you keep coming back.” 

Arthur has that face. The face that makes Merlin turn away from the washing basket. Because this isn’t a spur of the moment thought. This has been on Arthur’s mind for a while. 

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” He didn’t want to lead Arthur anywhere, just let him say what he needs to say, afraid of assuming something. 

Arthur sighs, searching for something in Merlin’s expression. “I had fired you.”

This piqued Merlin’s confusion. “I’m sorry what?” 

“Not long after you became my servant. I fired you, told you to leave. But you came back.” Merlin almost rolled his eyes as he smiled. 

“You would have died if I didn’t. Besides that, you believed me. Enough to embarrass yourself in front of your council at least. After that, I figured you were worth my time.” 

Merlin expected some snide remark, at least a huff of laughter, but Arthur’s smile dropped. Merlin’s brows furrowed in response. 

“Every hunting trip, you came back with me, after countless horrible things my father did… or I did to you, you always came back.” 

Merlin was stunned to see Arthur’s eyes become glassy, distracting Merlin from any witty or insightful remarks. 

Arthur’s silent question hung in the air. Merlin thought about recounting his regular speech, ever since he revealed his magic, Merlin has told him multiple times about their destiny, and the once and future king, and so on. But Merlin could feel that this was a different question, and that wouldn’t be the right answer. 

Merlin stepped forward, lifting a hand, placing his fingers on Arthur’s cheek, under his eye. 

“I always will.” 

Arthur’s eyes were glued to Merlin’s as he titled his head towards the careful fingers. Arthur traced a line up Merlin’s raised arm, gently wrapping his fingers around the thin wrist. 

Physical contact wasn’t unusual for them, especially since his magic became an open conversation, but moments like this were still sparse. 

Despite years of Merlin declaring his devotion and admiration of the blonde, Arthur still wasn’t used to it. An awful cocktail of paper thin self esteem and aggressive emotional detachment made accepting his praise far too difficult.

But the phrase, “I always will” is the click of a key in Arthur’s mind. 

Then all at once, everything gushed in, flooding up to his throat, drowning him in memories, and promises and sudden understanding. Maybe for a moment, he can see himself reflected in Merlin’s eyes. 

It’s overwhelming and gorgeous, and bubbling up through his chest is the need to return the favour. 

Though, no matter how many times Arthur has mulled over how to properly repay Merlin for the work he’s done, how much money or gifts he’s given him, it’s never felt like enough. It’s been driving Arthur up the wall, because he just couldn’t figure out why none of that seemed right. 

But right now, he knows what it is, because Merlin is really good at it.

With just a smile, or kind word, Merlin has this, quite frankly, irritating talent to make someone feel so good, so happy and appreciated. 

He’s been the one Arthur turns to on his worse days to process what he’s going through, on his good days to exchange jokes. Merlin has been the one sharing Arthur’s pain, if only to make it more bearable. 

Arthur tries to be that for Merlin, but it’s way more difficult than it seems. 

He’s seen Merlin’s cheery and cheeky demeanour fade over the years. Even before he knew about any magic, he could tell when Merlin’s shoulders were sagging, when his eyes were duller than he remembered, when his breathing seemed more pained. 

It took an embarrassingly long time to confront how useless Arthur was when it came to Merlin’s emotions. Eventually, he used how Merlin treated him as a guide, though that took a lot of trial and error. 

But this moment made him realise that this is it. If he can make Merlin feel as cared for as Merlin makes him feel in this moment, then that would be the greatest gift. 

The words tumble from his tongue without a second thought. When Arthur sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him, and in this moment of blinding clarity, he has never been so sure of anything before. 

“I love you.” 

He doesn’t fear rejection, quickly being validated by Merlin’s fond smile and lax in his shoulders. No battle or decision in court could be as empowering as seeing Merlin’s eyes crinkle with affection was. 

It’s a drop in the bucket compared to everything Merlin has given him, but Arthur so badly wants to chase it. 

So he wraps his arms around Merlin’s waist, bringing a hand up to cup the back of his head, in some show of protectiveness. A clear, no misunderstandings to be had, act of appreciation and love. 

A surprised laugh escapes Merlin as he encases Arthur’s shoulders, burrowing into his neck. 

They stand in the middle of Arthur’s chambers, rocking slightly, with no intentions of letting go anytime soon. 

Slow tears drip onto each other, the overwhelm of Arthur’s feelings needing a release, and Merlin’s happiness boiling over. 

Merlin’s voice cracks slightly as he adjusts his chin. 

“I love you, if that wasn’t obvious.” 

They chuckle into each other, Merlin immediately shutting up as Arthur pressed his lips under Merlin’s jaw. 

Arthur was finding himself becoming addicted to making Merlin happy, feeling his pulse quicken, his muscles ease. 

He wants to take it all away, take Merlin’s burden and pain, but holding him, sharing the weight, was enough for now. 

(I hope you enjoyed! Be good to yourself and others.

Prince Claudia)

[stonathandreamer]

Married!Stonathan with a daughter headcanons to brighten your day ✨

🔸 Masterlist

🔹 You can read part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here

A/N: I have unanimously decided that Saturdays are "Married!Stonathan with a Daughter" days, so here's another set of headcanons!

--------------------------✨✨--------------------------

✨ If you haven't read part 1 of "Married Stonathan! with a Daughter Headcanons," you can read it here, and then come back 😘!

✨ Steve's the type of dad who gets distracted watching a kid's show with Elizabeth, so when Jonathan comes to check in on them, he finds Steve sitting on the floor watching Rugrats and Elizabeth nowhere in sight;

— "What are you doing, Steve?"

— "Watching Rugrats with Lizzie, babe."

— "Uh-huh... And where is Lizzie...?"

— "What do you mean where is she? She's right... Ah, shit, not again..."

✨ Steve's also the type of dad who thinks it's funny to scare their baby daughter, but one time, he inadvertently made her cry, which resulted in him sleeping on the couch for a week;

✨ He's also the type of dad who thinks it's funny when their kids curse. Oh, 4-year-old Elizabeth said "fuck"? Steve's laughing his ass off while Jonathan's fighting the urge to strangle him - because Steve's lack of a baby filter is the cause of this;

✨ Steve thinks of himself as "the cool dad" and Jonathan as "the not-so-cool dad," but, in reality, he's way stricter with Elizabeth than Jonathan is because Steve is aware of what stupid teenagers do. After all, he was a stupid teenager himself - and a pretty stupid one at that;

✨ Jonathan is not as strict as Steve because he trusts his daughter and knows she's nowhere as stupid as he or Steve were in their teenage years;

✨ Steve babyproofed the whole house;

✨ Elizabeth is responsible like her dad Jonathan, and protective like her dad Steve - the best of both worlds!

✨ Also inherited the sarcasm and snarkiness of her Byers dad and irritability of her Harrington dad - the worst of both worlds;

✨ Very domestic Steve & Jonathan! Doing house chores together, like cooking (Steve's not allowed to cook by himself, though), doing laundry, washing the cars, and stuff - which leads to Elizabeth calling them "disgustingly sweet," much to their amusement;

✨ Steve is the type of dad who freaks out over the tiniest things. Like, 7-year-old Elizabeth fell off her bike and scraped her knee? Immediately scoops her up in his arms and runs inside the house while asking her if she's alright, then proceeds to interrogate her and ask if Elizabeth was being reckless and threatening to confiscate her bike;

✨ While Jonathan's just there, smiling at Steve freaking out before telling him to calm down;

✨ Elizabeth gets embarrassed by Steve whenever they go out together because he thinks he looks good on anything, and then proceeds to go out looking like this:

✨ Yeah, he has "the dad style";

✨ Jonathan is the one responsible for teaching Elizabeth how to drive because Steve yelled too much during their 15-minute lesson;

✨ Elizabeth threatens people with the fact that her dad's a cop despite Steve constantly telling her not to do it, otherwise he'll get in trouble at work but Elizabeth reassures him it's fine because her grandpa's the Chief of Police - and the thought of getting into trouble with Hopper makes Steve PANIC;

✨ She's fiercely protective of her dads - no one's allowed to send weird looks at them;

✨ They have dozens of pictures of Elizabeth in their wallets - all taken by Jonathan;

✨ Steve's the bad cop, and Jonathan's the good one;

✨ Though Jonathan is not afraid to be strict if he needs to, and no human being in the entire world is foolish enough to not listen to Jonathan Byers when he's being strict;

✨ Jonathan's a master of saying "I'm not mad, just disappointed," and that's so much worse than all the yelling, shouting, and scolding Steve has available in his arsenal;

✨ Constantly asks Elizabeth about boyfriends - or girlfriends;

✨ Feign shock and disappointment when their daughter informs them she's straight;

— "So, any boys, Lizzie?"

— "Or girls."

— "Dads, I'm straight."

— [dramatic gasps accompanied by putting a hand over their hearts.]

✨ Robin mocks Steve when he starts acting like an overprotective dad. Also calls him "dad dingus" now, much to his annoyance;

✨ Jonathan often asks Joyce for advice, and despite her constantly telling him he and Steve are doing everything right, he can't help but feel a bit insecure and also fearful of turning into Lonnie;

✨ Steve, meanwhile, fears being too much like his grade-A asshole dad;

✨ Elizabeth's D&D character is a Sorcerer - courtesy of her Uncle Will and Uncle Mike, who always played with D&D with Elizabeth when babysitting her for Steve and Jonathan;

✨ Proudest dads in the world who have a whole section of their living room dedicated to Elizabeth's achievements;

✨ Jokingly accuse each other of their daughter's bad behavior;

— "She has your temper, Steve!"

— "Oh, yeah? Well, she has your sarcasm, Jon!"

✨ Both agree that Robin, Nancy, and Dustin are bad influences on their daughter and should not leave her alone with them unsupervised;

✨ Elizabeth has the best parents in her group of friends, but will never admit it out loud because teenagers think it's cringe to say their parents are cool;

✨ Regarding where the Harrington-Byers family lives, I know Jonathan's plan is to leave Hawkins behind and go study photography at NYU (and in my headcanons, he is a photojournalist and a damn good one at that), but let's not forget Jonathan's a teenager and teenagers have all sorts of dreams. Just like Jonathan, when I was 17, my plan was to leave my small town behind and go to the big city to attend college, which I did and then returned to my small town one year after graduating from law school because here's where my family lives and I didn't want to be away from them, primarily because of some family issues. And I think Jonathan would do the same. He wouldn't leave Joyce and Will behind - he'd either bring them along if he could or return to stay with them. The fact Jonathan doesn't want to go to college with that girlfriend of his and instead wants to attend community college to be near his mom and brother is proof of that. So, because of that, I headcanon Jonathan, Steve, and their daughter live with Hawkins, near their friends, family, and other loved ones.

[mesetacadre]

How did you start your political life or more specifically, how did you learn about communism and made it part of your life? I'd love to learn more about communism and how I could help the world and people but I feel like I'm too stupid for that and I just generally don't know where to start, especially since I'm afraid even socialism will fail and hurt people more than help. Sorry for this message but thanks in advance if you decide to answer!

Around the time I began to come out of a year-long+ depressive period, I began to seriously "get into" politics. I suspect one of the reasons which triggered such a long and severe depressive period was the beginnings of a political consciousness, I intuited something was wrong with the world in a fundamental way, especially the education system, but did not have any knowledge or will to get at that more concretely. I did latch on a lot to that "don't go to school" viral video, especially the part about how it hadn't fundamentally changed since the industrial revolution.

The first thing I found after I stopped wanting to kill myself so constantly was anarchism, actually, and specifically vaush videos. I know. but I did start reading some things, like the conquest of bread, and some more "competent" political theory content than vaush, I did really like the idea of market socialism and coops. To my credit, I also encountered georgism and even I could tell it was pretty stupid. Anyhow, I never really was convinced on anarchism, on a fundamental level. I knew the talking points, the common arguments, that jazz, but it was more a superficial belief rather than a core one. After like 6 months of this I decided to contact the party I am now, I had encountered them a couple months earlier but kinda chickened out. The will to do something more than watch vaush and be opinionated about US politics eventually prevailed and I contacted the party, and they were very patient in actually educating me, giving me some responsibility, and in the years since then I've continued to be educated in practice and theory. Generally I'm glad by trajectory wasn't like some other young people in my position that I encountered, who went from fascist to right-libertarian to US democrat in a matter of months, those people wear their lack of principles like a badge of honor.

Anyway, about your other questions, there is no such thing as being too dumb for communism, it's rather a question of a will to learn and a decent enough offline organization with which to apply some principles to your context. Theory is extremely deep, for sure, but there is no minimum theory requirement to start to get organized. This perception exists because often, the only communists who organize as such explicitly are, frankly put, massive nerds, and it gives off the impression that you need to have read all the basics before doing anything. That isn't true.

I get your concern about hurting people, I think it's a legitimate doubt to have, and one that can only really be resolved with an actual 1-1 conversation and not this format, but succinctly, I'd tell you that already, millions of people suffer and thousands die every day from causes related to the oppression intertwined with the capitalist mode of production, especially imperialism. It has killed throughout history exponentially more people than any army could ever do, even the most genocidal and cruel army you could imagine. Isn't the opportunity to end all of this worth the risk of failing? The capitalist class will oppress our organization regardless of what we do, a failed uprising is more of an excuse to clamp down on our class, and less of a cause in itself.

[literallyrants]

sometimes I do need to remember those anti voting posts are not being written about me

[crimeronan]

it's sometimes so silly to look in the notes of a polyamory art/post and see people like "is this cheating art....?" when the characters in canon are all extremely close friends. i know it's not malicious because most people think of monogamy as the default and anything outside that Must be cheating, but truly i'm always like. guys. guys Please.

please think about this for like 2 seconds.

under what circumstances do we think this non-canon couple might hold hands directly in front of their canon partners. and under what circumstances do we think the canon partners might be okay with this. do we Truly think this is a secret relationship. do we Truly think these guys would sneak around behind their canon partners' backs when all of them are extremely close friends with a high level of trust and commitment to each other.

would assuming that these extremely close friends have actually communicated with one another Exactly The Same Way They Do In The Canon Source Material perhaps cause less despair.....

[dykedvonte]

I think acting like Jimmy’s struggles on Earth were like legal or related to being a criminal are so odd. Not in a bad way but just odd.

Like don’t get me wrong, I personally believe he’s had a run in with the law but I feel like it’d be minor, not even something that would get him a record. It could’ve, but it was dropped, not worth the time to pursue someone that down on their luck, probably not a dime to his name.

He’s a bad guy don’t get me wrong but it’s seems like his issues were with not being well-adjusted? In the whole sense, he’s snarky and unnecessary rude. He’s quick to anger and says things to pit people against each other. He likely doesn’t have many friends and we know he’s not financially well. I think tacking on bad traits diminishes the fact of what he did. Trying to fit him to that obviously evil arch type is a little bland to what he actually is. He’s normal enough to be a minor blip on the radar and that’s how he gets away with what he does.

Jimmy is ultimately scared of being in trouble. He gets into it but panics. He hates being confronted and he just doesn’t do things were he knows or perceives a bad outcome will happen to him.

[spitblaze]

Transfems are not 'privileged' for being forced to live in hostile panopticons and transmascs are not 'privileged' for being forced to live at the bottom of isolated wells and any 'benefits' that either incidentally incurs are canceled out if not outweighed by the drawbacks. Are we done here. Can we all please just go home