#but it was a LOT of people fighting over that and they had so much hatred for each other over this lifestyle choice

[jji-lee]

jeno breeding/impreg kink

(MDNI)

jeno wants babies ofc , everything is consensual , jeno has a big dick ofc , unprotected sex (wrap that dick up pls) , rough sex , pet names, a lot of bad words , lil bit of ass slapping , face down ass up, not proof-read cause my writing makes me cringe , requested here !

as jeno watched you from across the room he couldn't help but notice how natural holding a baby was for you. your soft hands caressing the baby's face, a slight pout to your lips as you spoke to him. you had this sort of glow to you, a motherly glow, and in a sick twisted way, seeing you like this made his pants tighten.

why did people say you had to wait to have children? right now all jeno could think about was you, full and plump with his child, breasts swollen and skin glowing. he could make you his completely. forever.

"hi pretty girl."

jeno's arm's snaked around your waist, pulling you into his chest before leaning down to plant a kiss to your forehead. you smiled up at him,

"hi jen, thank you for coming by the daycare today, the kids love you."

he left out a soft hum in agreement, hands traveling down to grab your ass lightly, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he planted light kisses to your neck. you giggled, trying to push him away, his arms holding you tighter,

"i like going, like seeing you like that."

you relaxed into his arms, his teeth nipping at your collarbones,

"like what jen?"

he bit at the skin lightly, hands moving up and under your shirt, goosebumps rising on your body as his cold hands rubbed your back.

"like a mother, can't stop thinking about filling you up with my babies, fuck- you'd look so good."

his hands moved forward to rub at your belly, his bulge growing impossibly harder. you moved you hands down to squeeze the front of his pants, smiling as he moaned softly,

"why don't you do it then, hm? what's stopping you?"

you watched as he let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes shut,

"don't do this to me baby, this isn't a funny."

you brought your hands up to hold his face, his eyes fluttering open to look at you,

"who said i'm joking?"

that was enough confirmation for jeno as he leaned in, kissing you harshly. the kiss was messy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting. you'd never seen jeno this desperate, his hand roaming your body, grabbing, scratching, getting a hold of anything he could.

he pulled off your shirt, quick fingers fumbling with you bra,

"jen slow down, baby what's the rush?"

he looked up at you, breathless, his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink,

"can't wait, please, want you baby, need you- fuck- why won't this thing come off."

he pulled at your bra, clips snapping off with his force. you gasped as he picked you up, rushing to get to your shared room. his movements were rough, but he looked at you with love in his eyes, hands soothing any skin he grabbed too hard, lips kissing any mark he left.

he kissed down your body, removing each article of clothing as he went. you stopped his movements as he reached your core, lips hovering over your heat,

"jen please, need you in me, now."

he was quick to comply removing all of his clothes before lining himself up at your entrance, his hands shaky as he slowly slid in,

"fuckkk, baby- fuck, so tight, sucking me in so good."

you moaned as you looked down, watching as his length disappeared inside you, your walls burning at the stretch,

"jen please, please fuck me, need this so bad baby please."

he grunted as he flipped you over, hands gripping your hips as he pulled your ass up. you winced as he gave your ass a light slap, his length pressed right against your core.

"you asked for it baby, now be good and take it."

you back arched as he slid right in, your juices coating his length. his pace was slow but harsh, hips snapping roughly against your ass, his grip on your hips deadly.

"shitt baby, wish you could see yourself, so fucking wet baby, like the idea of my filling you up that much, hm?"

you nodded your head, hair scattered against the bedsheets, hands pulling tightly at the fabric,

"yes jen, fuck- yes, want you to fill me up so good- fuck."

his thrusts picked up in pace a moan leaving his lips as you begged him to fuck you full,

"gonna fill this pussy up baby, get this belly full with my babies, fuck- you like that huh? feel you squeezing around me pretty girl."

your mouth fell open into a silent moan as jeno pounded into you, his tip poking at that sweet spot inside you.

"jeno, jeno, fuck, 'm gonna cum, oh my- jen, please don't stop."

he chuckled at your disheveled state, drool spilling out of your mouth and your hair a mess as he fucked you into the mattress, pussy tightening around him as you came undone.

"just like that baby, shit creaming all over me, so fucking dirty."

he slapped your ass again before pulling your hips towards him harshly, your legs trembling at the feeling,

"fuck yourself on me baby, like you want it, mhm good baby, keep going."

you used your last bit of strength to push your hips back onto his, his hands keeping you steady as you moaned softly at the sensitivity.

"jen please fill me up, want all of it, wanna have your kids, please."

the growl he let out was animalistic as snapped his hips into yours, a yelp leaving your lips at the force. his pace was inhumane, his loud grunts and the sound of your wet heat filling the room.

"you're so perfect baby, shit, i'm gonna cum, holy- fuck baby."

you squeezed around him as his cum coated your walls. a string of curses leaving his lips as his hands left bruises on your hips. his large hand rubbing down your back to soothe your shaking figure.

instead of pulling out jeno kept his hips flush against your ass, leaning down close to your ear.

"gotta make sure none of it goes to waste right? promise i'm gonna make you mommy."

you always wanted to call jeno daddy anyways.

[postalignments]

Spreading this for my American followers! As an American myself, I know that things look hopeless, but we can get through this! If your education is limited, feel free to reach out to me for help with any math as long as it's algebra 1 or anything simpler than that (I'm still learning geometry). And I personally don't know much about the history they'll deem important to stop teaching, but I do know a lot of ancient history and mythology, so I can help with those on the chance that you need assistance.

Stay strong, everybody. It's in the Constitution (Amendment 22, section 1) that he can't serve any more terms after this. And to change the Constitution, you would need 2/3 of the Senate, 2/3 of the House, and at least 34 states to approve. Remember that out of over eleven thousand proposed changes to the Constitution, only 27 have passed this!

Study up on civics. Learn about your government. Find out why it works the way it does. Read the Constitution, it isn't that long. Know your rights. It'll be harder for them to violate our rights if we know we had those rights in the first place. These people thrive off the ignorance of the public. So don't be the ignorant public.

Learn to cook. Start biking or walking instead of driving if gas prices get too high, both to save yourself the expense and because we all know what excessive unnecessary driving does to the environment. Do everything you can to reduce your expenses if you must.

Women who think this will be needed, stock up on birth control and anything you can use for an abortion before Project 2025 bans it. Everyone, do research on Project 2025, as much as you can, find out how it will affect you and your loved ones (because unless you're a cishet middle or upper class white man, it will affect you), and take initiative to do as much as you can to prevent it in the time we have left.

We just need to push through for four more years. It sounds long, but trust me, it's not. Four more years, and we can attempt at fixing whatever he ruins. Hell, we can start now. Do whatever you can to fight this, and if we're relentless enough, they'll have to give in eventually. The one good thing about this country being run by old men is that as of 2021, the life expectancy for men in the U.S. is 73 years. They'll be gone soon. Let's outlive them so we can make a better America that will hopefully learn from its mistakes for once.

If by some miracle sweet potato Hitler doesn't win come the end of the week, this won't be necessary, but should he win here are some of the first things to be aware of or do.

If you know a trans person, no you don't. Respect them as best you can in private but you know nothing in public.

Be aware that TikTok will likely be banned, find new platforms to spread information. Fuck Twitter and what ever tiktok replacement he's working on.

Learn to Garden, even in winter so you can feed yourself should prices skyrocket

Get an air purifier. The Clean Air Act is likely to be stripped of its power with the EPA deregulated, air quality is going to suffer

Should you have kids, try to supplement history/social studies education. That's the first place they will attack, if you need help ask, history teacher will help

Try and do what you can to be aware of your health before January.

Help one another. That's the best way we can move forward and make change in the future.

[go-fornicate-yourself]

Every day I am in the trenches fighting for my life defending this poor man. He was going through so much and people online demonize him and say he's as bad as his abuser

(I've got a lot of thoughts about this so I'll make sure to separate things to make it easier to look at lol)

Curly is a victim of abuse. Jimmy is his abuser. This is something that I feel a lot of people tend to brush over or don't acknowledge it often.

And I'm not just talking about post-crash. Jimmy's abuse of Curly is there pre-crash too. The party scene where the crew learns about the company going under is a huge example of this. Jimmy verbally abuses him, he gaslights him, he blames him for their (his) misfortune. Jimmy accuses Curly of thinking he's better than everyone (better than him), that he doesn't care about them (about him). That he's going leave them (leave him). Which is not true. Curly tries to explain himself but Jimmy shuts him down and he just takes it.

The fact that he just allows this to happen makes it seem like he's used to this... That this kind of behavior is a recurring thing with Jimmy. And the fact that nobody else tries to defend him or stands up to Jimmy just normalizes it for him. When Anya tells Curly what Jimmy did it catches him off guard. Bc he genuinely didn't think that his friend was capable of that. It wasn't something that was obvious to him. There were absolutely many red flags in the past but they were subtle enough for him to not see them bc he cares for Jimmy, he trusts him. Jimmy's the only one he feels he can open up to, who he can let his guard down with. Jimmy's his home. That's how close they are.

Because of this deep love for his friend and the subtlety of Jimmy's cruelty, he doesn't see the constant verbal and emotional abuse as what it is: abuse. Which is why he finds Jimmy's abuse towards Anya so shocking and jarring.

He isn't a man covering for his rapist friend bc of the 'bro code'. It does look like that from a certain angle and it's understandable why people see it that way but that's not what his character is really about as much as it makes sense otherwise.

He's essentially a battered housewife who's still in love with her husband but is realizing for the first time that the man she loves is a monster. That the man she loves and devoted her life to has been hurting her this whole time and she didn't even realize it. That the man she loves and spent so much of her life caring for has gone and hurt someone else. That he's most likely hurt others before and she's been utterly unaware of it the entire time she defended him and made excuses for him when he wasn't the best or the fairest or the most responsible or when he screwed up yet again solely bc of how much she loved and cared for him.

And Curly barely had any time to process ANY of that before Jimmy decided to try and kill them all to avoid the consequences of his actions. It was ultimately a selfish act even if he thought he wasn't just doing it for himself. Jimmy is selfish and needs to be in control or he loses it. He cares for Curly. He loves him. Curly's done so much for him. Curly's the only one who understands him, who doesn't hate him. Curly's his home. He resents how 'successful' he is but that's only bc he thinks so highly of him. He constantly puts himself down and put Curly on a pedestal and worships him while simultaneously mistreating him.

He treats his best friend like shit, he's awful to him. But he's not aware that this is the case or maybe he's in denial about it. He can't or just refuses to see how he's doing all of what he does for himself in the end. He justifies his attempt to kill them all (to himself and to Curly) by claiming he's doing this for them both. That if they were to get back to earth it would all be Curly's fault, that it'll ruin his life and career... despite the fact he had basically nothing to do with Anya's abuse. Jimmy's shifting the blame on him while acting like he cares for him. Well, he does genuinely care for him but clearly not nearly enough to not mistreat him or use him as a scapegoat for his own guilt.

Jimmy is the rapist, Jimmy is the one who does all of these horrible things. And yet it's highly likely that Curly would just blame all of it on himself bc that's exactly what Jimmy did to him. He's in so deep he can't see the facts of the situation.

It takes abuse victims so long to come to terms with their abuse. It takes time and reflection to see things with an unbiased and healthy perspective. Abuse (especially years of it) isn't just something you can just escape. It consumes you and can twist your reality. Curly had about a week or less to process all of it and then take action in a way that protected his crew and abided by Pony Express' guidelines. Dealing with something this serious in a setting that makes resolving it extremely difficult in a practical sense is already hard.

There were no locks on any of the doors except for medical and the cockpit. They couldn't just kill him. There was nowhere they could detain Jimmy that wouldn't involve corporate potentially penalizing the entire group. They could have used the cryopods but then there'd only be three available for any actual emergency and there were already five crew members and four pods in total. Also, I doubt corporate would be 'okay' with them using the cryopods for anything other than their intended purpose. Hell, even if they were able to make it back to earth without any incidents there's a good chance that corporate would consider the situation 'poor team synergy' and collectively punish the entire crew for Jimmy's actions.

So on top of having to deal with an already difficult situation, Curly has to grapple with the realization that Jimmy a: abused Anya, b: has been abusing him as well (for a very long time too), and c: has probably abused others before Anya and he had no idea about it. He needed to act but he didn't and it doomed all of them.

But it's so unrealistic (maybe even cruel) to put that much pressure on someone, force them through an utterly earth-shattering realization, and then expect them to do the correct/right/responsible thing in that moment. It's a little ironic how people vilify him for that when other characters do the same thing that nobody blames for it.

Anya is the ship's nurse. Curly is the ship's captain. They both have duties and responsibilities on board the Tulpar. She has to keep the crew healthy and safe and is the only one with enough medical knowledge to do so. He has to make sure that everything goes well and goes according to procedure. He's responsible for the crew, the cargo, and even the ship itself. Both positions are integral and require a lot of responsibility to do properly

They're both put through distressing and traumatic situations where due to them being human people with emotions and fears that make them essentially avoid their responsibility/doing what's required of them.

Curly has a freeze response and doesn't act when he should have when it was crucial to have done so. Anya has a fawn response and essentially puts her patient in danger and harm's way. She knew full well what Jimmy was capable of. She experienced it herself and she witnessed it happening to Curly as well. And yet she allows Jimmy to be alone with Curly while being fully aware of how dangerous he is. Which she shouldn't have, that wasn't the 'right' thing to do. Keeping him safe was her responsibility.

But Anya's human. She's going through a lot at the moment. She's terrified of Jimmy and she's trying to appease him so he doesn't hurt her again. It's a natural very understandable thing to do even if it's not the 'right' or 'responsible' thing. They failed each other when they needed each other most and I think that's the most tragic part of it. If anything, all of them failed each other in some way, shape, or form.

So it's incredibly frustrating to see people give Anya so much sympathy and grace for doing something so human yet still 'wrong' but then turn around and give Curly none of that for doing essentially the same thing she does.

I don't know for sure if it's actually because Curly is a man or if it's only part of it or maybe some people just lack that sense of awareness but it's depressing and frustrating as fuck as a male victim of sexual violence and abuse to see this kind of behavior and this much victim blaming towards a character who is undeniably a victim of abuse like I am.

[7s3ven]

MAFIA AU! TASK FORCE 141 x MOB BOSS GF! READER

( head cannons / might turn into a series )

Feel free to to request more scenarios with this au LOL

Notes: poly, reader is described as on the shorter side, age gap, daddy issues (reader has a bad father), inappropriate jokes/themes mentioned

YSL, red bottom shoes, sugary cocktails, leopard print, faux fur, y2k, mcbling, lana del rey, cigarettes, mob boss wife…

- When people join the mafia, they expect tough muscled men, maybe a few scarred women carelessly waving around guns. What they don’t expect is you

- You’re an interesting sight, perched on Price’s lap like a little trophy, freshly manicured nails tapping away at your phone screen as you play a game

- You don’t care about whatever meeting you’re in, you aren’t even listening to Price’s rather gory plans. You’re too busy deciding what to have for lunch

- Nobody can look away from your pretty pout as you discover your favourite drink is temporarily out of stock

- Price was the one who found you first. Your father was indebted to the mafia and what better way to force him to pay than taking his precious daughter? Price found it strange how you were so willing to leave your father but it made sense when you told him the truth

- Your father wasn’t a good man. He had blood on his hands and he never cared much about you or your mother. You were thankful to find a way out, even if it meant going with a strange (but equally handsome) man

- You belonged to Price first but his property was Simon, Kyle, and Jonny’s as well

- “Jonny, is this skirt too short?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

Jonny glanced up from his phone, shrugging. “Nah. It’s all good, bonnie. I can fight. ‘Sides, shorter skirts makes it easier to bend ya over.”

- Simon loves sharing his cigarettes with you, especially when you kiss him and transfer the smoke into his mouth. The best part is seeing your lipstick stain the end of his cigarette

- Price buys you lots of clothes and accessories. You’re never not draped in the most expensive jewellery he can find. Gaz is the one buying you heels. For some reason, he has a knack for choosing the best shoes

- Seeing you waltz around in your short skirts, lace tops, and clicking high heels is enough of a reward for the four men

- The rookies love the sight of you but you’re forbidden fruit. You belonged to their bosses who did not like to share

- When there’s talk of a rat among the mafia, your four lovers do not take it kindly. They need someone to infiltrate whatever plot is brewing up. Luckily, they have you. Nobody in their right mind would pass a chance on being able to get a taste of your strawberry-flavored lipgloss

- “Oh my gosh, it’s giving office siren.” You say, excitedly tugging on the tight, short-sleeved blouse that Ghost is shaking his head at.

“It’s too short.” He mutters, “Ain’t there a ‘nother size?”

“It was the only one. Sorry, baby.” You sheepishly smiled at your lover’s displeasure. “Anyway, how do I look?”

Clad in that damn white blouse, a short pencil skirt, and thinly rimmed glasses, you were a vision.

“You look like you’re ’bout to get some action when ya get back.” Kyle says, nodding over at Soap who’s staring at you shamelessly.

“How ‘bout this, lovie?” Price steps forward, “If you do a good job, we’ll give you a little reward. Sound good, yeah?”

( please note that for the cod tag list, you will be tagged in all the cod fics i post, not just this one lol )

COD TAG LIST (COMMENT TO BE ADDED/REMOVED):

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Longing Looks to Something More

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> You and Tyler have been friends for a long time, but one day things begin to change.

Disclaimer: Steamy moments, swearing, fluffy moments, oblivious idiots in love, love confessions (kinda), lots of pining. Not Proof Read.

You heard his boots scuffing the barn floor before he pulled out a chair next to your desk. 

“Here.” Looking up, you found where he’d placed a fresh cup of tea beside you. “It’s too late for coffee, and Cathy said it’s good for sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep.” You lifted the mug. “But thank you.”

Tyler sat back in his chair, watching you as you went back to your work. You’d been sitting at that desk since four o’clock in the afternoon, and that hour was long gone. 

“When was the last time you got some decent shut eye?” Tyler asked, picking up a folder you’d finished looking at so he could make the conversation feel less like an interrogation. 

He smiled as he saw the small scribbled in the margins. 

“Before college properly.”

He shut the document. “I’m being serious, Y/n.”

“So am I,” you said, holding in a laugh. But then he gave you the look. 

Sighing, and relaxing your shoulders, you leaned to look at him. “I appreciate your concern, Ty, I really do. But I’m okay. I promise.”

He watched you for a moment before taking half of the scribbled notes from you and using the folder as something to lean on. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him. 

“Helping.”

“Tyler-”

He looked at you. “You need sleep and I’m not leaving until you do. And that won’t be until you finish. Twice the people, half the work.”

You would have fought him on it, but in truth, you’d spent so much time looking at the calculations and data you thought you were starting to think in them, instead of words. 

And he was right. 

Whatever work you’d been distracting yourself with was as wrapped up as it could be until you gathered some more data. And by the looks of it, the tea was working. You’d been giving into your yawns rather than trying to fight them off. 

Tyler had seen you do this for years. He was just glad they had Kate’s barn to work out of when chasing. You all finally had a home base now. 

“Right, come on.”

Tyler practically hauled you from your seat. 

“Bedtime.”

It was easier than previous nights to get you to move away from your work and head down to the farm house. There were three places to sleep on the farm. Inside the main house, which was where Kate stayed with Cathy and someone else would take the guest room. Then there was the guest house, with a couple different rooms which everybody had slept in at least once. Whoever fell asleep first, got the first pick of a room. Then there was the smaller guest house. It had one bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, a small sitting room and enough of a wooden stand in the back to be considered a porch. 

That was where you and Tyler would be tonight since you were the last to go to bed. 

“I brought your stuff down here earlier. I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” you yawned. 

By the time you’d gotten dressed in your pyjamas, these days consisted of a random t-shirt which you were sure had belonged to one of the boys at some point, and cotton shorts. You joined Tyler in the bathroom, brushing your teeth whilst he washed his face. 

Turning off the bath tap, he wrung out the face cloth before throwing it over the towel rail to dry. 

“Come on.” 

Finally rinsing out your mouth, you heard the clink of your toothbrush in the cup and wiped your mouth. 

Tyler’s hand hovered by your hip as he led you out of the bathroom, turning the light off behind him, across the small living room and into the bedroom. 

By that point, Tyler had practically wrangled and tucked you into bed before laying down beside you. For years, you’d shared a bed. You’d both shared a bed at least three times with each member of the crew. There was always a motel somewhere that didn’t have enough space. 

So it didn’t freak you out to think you’d be sharing a bed with Tyler. 

By the time the lights cut out, it wasn’t long before you were fast asleep. 

When you woke up, you felt secure. Like you’d been wrapped in a weighted blanket. Only when you opened your eyes did you realise it was Tyler’s arms. With your back against his chest, his arms held you securely against him. He was fast asleep. His breathing even, soft snores coming from him as he held onto you for dear life. 

It took you a minute but you eventually pulled yourself from his arms and headed for the bathroom. By the time you’d finished, you could hear him walking around the place before you heard the pans being moved around. 

He was making breakfast. 

“Hey.” 

Tyler looked over his shoulder as he scrambled the eggs. “Hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Good. Better than college.”

Tyler smiled. “Good. Eggs’ll be done soon.”

“Thanks. Want some coffee?”

Tyler nodded and you started brewing it from the pot, grabbing two mugs and setting them beside each other. 

After breakfast and coffee, Tyler headed for a shower and you got changed into some fresh clothes. You’d also found his inside one of the closets so, after pulling back the bed covers, you laid his clothes out at the foot of the bed. 

“Hey, Ty? I’m gonna head up to-”

You’d been focusing on tying the bottom of your shirt up as you walked the short distance out of the bedroom and past the sofa, ready to call through the door to him. However, without looking up, you ran into something. 

At first, you figured it was the door, but when the door suddenly grew arms, steadied you and spoke, you realised what had actually happened. 

Stood, his waist wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping a little from the water, Tyler had opened the door. 

And there you stood, suddenly dumbfounded, in his arms, unsure of what to do. 

“Uhh, sorry. I-I didn’t.” Your mind seemed to take a mental picture of the Tyler that stood in front of you in that moment, and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why. 

“You okay?”

Clearing your throat, you stepped back and out of his grasp. “Yea-yep. Yes. All good. I was just gonna…”

You forced yourself to look at his face before he thought you were checking him out. 

“I was gonna head up to the barn. I’ve, uhh, I’ve left your stuff in..in the bedroom.”

You started to make a break for it towards the front door and Tyler remained in his position, watching you. 

“Sure you’re okay?”

You nodded firmly. “Just peachy.”

Tyler couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched you leave after getting so flustered. But, shaking his head, he turned back towards the bedroom. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, but something inside of him was glad it did. 

The rest of the day, you tried to keep your mind focused on your tasks rather than constantly replaying what had happened that morning. Tyler. His arms. His grip. His body. His eyes. His voice. Him. 

None of that was helped when you saw him walking up the small hill towards the barn, his wranglers being filled in all the right places. 

“Stop it.” You told yourself over and over and over again. Even more so when he leaned over you from behind your chair, asking about the data collection. How was it that a man could still smell so good hours after taking a shower? Immediately, your mind projected the towel-wrapped image of him from that morning. 

“Stop it.”

Tyler hummed a response, not having heard you. 

“Nothing,” you brushed it off. And he just shrugged. 

However, you weren’t the only one confused by your sudden replay of the morning going over in your head. 

“Stare at her any longer and somebody might think you’re in love.” 

Tyler turned and looked back at Dexter. “What are you talking about?”

Dexter smiled. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at her. If you’re not looking around this barn for her, you’re looking at her.”

“No, I’m not.” Tyler tried to laugh it off. But then he found himself looking back at you. Your reaction to him coming out of the shower kept playing on his mind. As did the feeling of you being in his arms this morning before he woke up again. 

Standing and leaning behind you as you sat at your desk allowed for your shampoo to fill his senses. And it took him right back to being in bed with you after ushering you to bed. He’d woken up just a little before the sun had come up. His arms were already around you, but he wouldn’t have moved in fear of waking you considering you were holding his arms to you. 

Calming himself down, your shampoo filled his senses and imprinted the feeling and image of you in his mind. So, when he stood with you, that feeling came right back. 

He must have fallen back to sleep, too, because when he woke up, he heard the sink running in the bathroom. 

“Dex, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. So long as it’s not how to read Y/n’s handwriting. What does this even say?”

Leaning over him, Tyler read it. “Continued on page five.”

Dexter nodded, a little shocked. “What’s your question?”

“When…” He looked back at you for a moment before tearing his gaze away. “When do you know something is changing?”

“Is this about you and Y/n? Because I have to say, I think you might be the last to know.”

“What?”

Dexter started listing things off. “The way you look at her? The way she looks at you? The fact you’re the only one she’ll listen to, or you’re the only one who can read her handwriting?”

Tyler shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. But, I…”

“Did something happen?”

Tyler shook his head. “Technically, no.”

“But you wish it had?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know if I did or not. We’re friends. We’ve only ever been friends. Why would things start changing now?”

“Maybe now is the time.” Dexter said. “It’s like you say, a tornado is part science, part religion. Some things, or at least part of them, can’t always be explained. You and Y/n have a deep connection. You’re friends. Maybe now it’s time to explore things further.”

Taking one final look over at you, Tyler didn’t know what to do. 

“Maybe.”

Tyler wrestled with the idea for a week or more. You’d both been friends for a long time. And, sure. Maybe he’d checked you out once or twice over the years. He wasn’t blind. You were beautiful. Why you were still single baffled him. And, yeah, maybe he’d felt a little jealous when someone from a bar would ask you to dance with them. But that didn’t mean he was catching feelings, did it?

Except, the longer time went on, the more he could feel them becoming more noticeable. He kept catching himself looking at you throughout the day, His heart and stomach kept doing a weird ‘hop, skip and jump’ thing every time he saw you. Except, it had started to be whenever he even thought about you. Whenever he saw you in one of the guy’s t-shirts that wasn’t his, he felt a pang in his chest, but when he saw you in his…he had to leave the room for fear of the extent of his emotions showing up in front of everyone. 

And just when he thought he was getting better at hiding his feelings, Boone asked him a question. 

“When are you gonna ask her out, dude?”

Tyler, who had been on the roof of his truck since you got back from another tornado chase, stopped what he was doing and looked down at Boone. 

“What?”

Pausing where he was in the book you had given him only a few hours ago to keep him occupied, Boone looked at Tyler. “You’ve been watching her all day.”

Tyler looked back at his work, rather than back at you. You were a short way across the farm, helping haul some bags of feed from the truck and into the barn. 

“No, I haven’t.”

Boone just laughed. “Come on, man. We all see it. Hell, I’ve seen it since you first met her. D’you know you get this funny look on your face when you look at her? Had it then, have it now. Just louder.”

Tyler just shook his head and mumbled; “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This time, Boone stood up. “You’re my brother, Tyler. So I’m gonna tell you straight. You’re in love with, Y/n. So rather than sitting here, thinking about her. Go over there and do something about it. Or else Me and Lily are gonna have to start watching Parent Trap to take some more notes.”

Tyler looked back at Boone. “More notes?”

Boone cleared his throat and shook his head, scuffing his feet on the ground. If Tyler or you knew the lengths they’d gone through to get either one of you this far…

“Dude, just ask her out.” 

As he went and sat back down, he watched Tyler look back down the field towards you. Except, that was interrupted by Dani and Dexter heading up the road. 

It was from their announcement that everyone found themselves getting dressed up to head to the local bar for a night of country dancing. 

However, that caused one problem. 

Tyler. 

Smelling just as he did a few weeks ago when you ran into his freshly showered, towel-wrapped body. 

Filling out his jeans in all the right places. 

With a crisp white t-shirt. 

And you caught him from the moment he’d taken his backwards cap off his head, throwing it onto his dash and pulling his cowboy hat out, fixing it onto his head. 

And the way he was looking at you as you walked down the steps of the house, dressed in your only pair of denim shorts that didn’t need washing, a t-shirt you’d borrowed from Kate since the one you planned on wearing still had motor oil on from when you were helping Dani with the camper, and an oversized checked shirt, along with your cowboy boots; it was giving you more ideas than you needed in your head when it came to Tyler. 

 “Ready to go?”

Tyler had to look away from you, letting his gaze land on his feet as he nodded and opened up his passenger door for you. “Yep.”

For a moment, you could have sworn he looked nervous. But considering you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him any longer than a second and a half in fear he’d see exactly what you were thinking when you looked at him, you couldn’t be sure. 

And when he grabbed your hand half way through the night to bring you onto the dance floor, holding you close to him as you both two-stepped across the old wooden floor, those feelings that had been bubbling inside you for weeks; you could feel them pouring over whatever container you tried to shove them into. 

The feeling of his hand on your lower back, the feeling of his hand in yours, the feeling you got when he looked at you, and the way his voice sounded, so close to your ear. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” 

“It’s kinda personal.”

You were confused. “Okay?”

Now he just had to find the last shreds of courage to ask you. “Is something…has something…between you and me…is there…”

Each time he said a word, your head rushed around the million different things he was trying to ask you. 

“Just spit it out, Tyler.”

“Do you like me?”

No. I love you. 

“How’d you mean?” You asked. 

Tyler had a few seconds to think how to phrase his question as he spun you out before pulling you back. 

“Like, more than usual.”

Now he was starting to confuse himself. “I just…am I imagining things here, or is something…different? Between us, I mean.”

It was your chance to think. Had he been feeling it too? The way the room felt a lot more claustrophobic, in the good way, when it was just you two? Did he feel your touch as strongly in his bones as you did? Did he…did he love you the same way you did for him?

“It’s just…I feel like I woke up one morning and…I don’t know. You’re the person I’d talk to about this kinda stuff, so…I just thought I’d ask you about this, too. Is there…Is there something changing between us?”

The song slowed and you were completely against Tyler, standing in his space as he stood in yours. Looking up at him and meeting his green eyes, you told him the truth. 

“I think it already has.”

From the table in the corner, the others watched you and Tyler slow down and just simply look at each other. 

“Think he finally told her?” Lily asked, turning to the other hoping they saw what she did. 

“I think she told him.” Dani said, grabbing a handful of chips. 

“I think they’ve just told each other.”

Everyone looked at Dexter before turning to look back at you and Tyler on the dancefloor. 

You watched as Tyler registered everything you said and after an eternity, he looked up and around the room. You didn’t know what or who he was looking for, but after another moment, he grabbed your hand. 

“Come with me.”

You led you towards the back of the bar and out of the doors, the cold air hitting both of you all at once. The sound of the music and people drowned out as the door swung shut behind you both. 

“Ty, where are we-”

Swinging you around, you felt Tyler stop you in your tracks before he looked at you. Really looked at you. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

From day one of meeting Tyler, you knew you could trust him. And you knew you always would. 

Brushing the hair from your face, he seemed to finally breathe. And you slowly leaned into his touch. “Y/n…”

He swallowed nervously before asking the question that had been on his mind since the first time he’d woken up with you in his arms. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Drawing his eyes from your lips, he looked into yours. You knew if you said no, he would walk away. He wouldn’t question you, he wouldn’t push. 

But you wanted him to. 

“Yes.”

“Are you su-”

You cut him off, standing a little higher on your toes, you took his face into your hands and pulled him in to kiss you. His hands held you steady at your hips before snaking around your body and holding you flush against him whilst your own arms did the same around his neck. 

Parting for a breath, Tyler’s hands were quick to lift you up and you locked your ankles around his hips before your back was up against the cold brick wall. 

A small moan left your lips which forced Tyler to pull his lips from yours for a moment. 

“Are you okay?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Cowboy.”

Tyler smirked with a small chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

One hand holding you under your ass and another pushing through your hair, Tyler kissed you as if your life depended on it. 

You died with his kiss, and he brought you back with the next. God, you never wanted it to end. 

However, it was forced when you both heard the back door to the bar swing open and crash against the wall before a pair of drunk laughs getting closer. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t anyone on the team. Otherwise you and Tyler would have been caught in a very compromising position considering you could feel all of Tyler against your body at that moment. 

Looking back at you with a half drunk smile, which you were sure you owned the other half to, Tyler kissed you quickly once more. Before giving you another, and another and another as you slowly unhooked your legs from him and he lowered you to the ground. 

“We better get back inside.”

You smiled. “I think the others already have an idea on what we’re doing out here.”

“Still. If we’re gonna go any further, I’d rather make love to you someplace that isn’t behind the back of a bar.”

You blushed. “Make love?”

Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, Tyler leaned down and kissed the shell. 

“Would you prefer for me to fuck you? Because I can do that, too, Sweetheart.”

Tyler watched as your cheeks heated. He didn’t have to look at you to know what you were thinking about. Because he was thinking about it, too. 

“Come on. We better get inside.”

Pressing a final kiss to your lips, Tyler took your hand and led you back into the bar. You were pretty sure after his question, your brain had been completely fried with thoughts of Tyler fucking you. 

Not helped by the fact that when he walked you back inside, he pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands on your waist. “I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?”

You still couldn’t speak so just nodded. 

Tyler smiled a little and kissed your temple. “You keep thinking about my question, Sweetheart.”

You felt his hand tap your ass lightly before he walked away and towards the bar and you were left to walk back to where the team had been sitting in the corner. Thankfully, most of them apart from Dexter were up dancing. 

“You two finally talk?”

You felt yourself blush. You were glad most of the lights were directed onto the dancefloor or behind the bar. “A little more than that.”

Dexter smiled before taking a sip of his drink and handing you a small sketch. 

“Dexter, you’re the only person I know that brings a pad and pencil to a bar.”

He smiled. “Never know when inspiration will strike. Plus, I think you’ll like this one.”

From his pad, he pulled a small piece of card, no bigger than a beer coaster. In the middle stood the outline of two people. 

You and Tyler. 

Just moments ago, when you were standing on the dancefloor together. 

“Dex…”

He smiled. “You keep it. I’m gonna go to the gents.”

Standing up, Dexter walked away just as Tyler reached the table and handed you your drink before sitting beside you with his arm over your shoulders. 

“Look at this.”

“It's us.”

You smiled as you watched Tyler take hold of it and examine it for a moment. You could hear the cogs turning in his head but you weren’t sure why. But then he removed his hat and fixed the picture in place on the inner band. 

He fixed the hat back onto his head. “Well?”

You smiled. “You look handsome.”

Tyler smiled before leaning in to kiss you, and as he pressed his lips to yours, you both heard the hollering and whistles being blown by the rest of your team on the dancefloor. 

You felt yourself blush and chuckle, Tyler doing the same except as you hid your head for a moment on his shoulder, he waved his hands at the other to get them to stop. 

Looking back to you with a rested smile on his face, he leaned down and kissed you once more. 

“Ready to go home?”

You nodded and went to stand. 

“The offer still stands, Sweetheart.”

This time, as he remained seated, you turned back and pressed your knee into your chair, leaning over him as he looked up at you. 

“I want both,” you told him. Then you leaned in closer. “But if you’re gonna fuck me, you better fuck me like you mean it.”

It was his turn to blush, but you didn’t get away with not for long because Tyler’s hand came to your hip holding you steady when you kissed him. 

“Think you can take me, darlin’. Might need to get you ready first.”

You felt yourself smirk. “After those words and everything that happened outside, I’m already halfway there.”

Considering another tray of drinks made their way to the table in Dexter’s hands, Tyler told Tyler the others wouldn’t be leaving for a good while.

Tyler pressed one last kiss to your lips before he stood and took your hand in his, leading you back through the bar and towards his truck. 

“We’ll have to see about that.”

[whatswrongwithblue]

As a queer woman in a red state, I needed to see this today. I still love my state. This is my home. Where I was raised, where I went to school, where my wife and I were married, where I work, where we bought our house, where we started our little farm, where my baby will be born, where my friends are. Where my entire communkty and safety net is. I'm so happy here. I love my life here.

Please stop saying "fuck red states."

My dad is one of the most die hard Republicans I know. He voted for Trump and yes, it breaks my heart. It makes me sick and at time makes me feel unloved. And I have to remember this is the man who basically took a bow of silence about me coming out for the first year. THAT man cried happy tears and gave the most moving speech at my wedding. He adores my wife and calls her is daughter now. THAT man's beliefs have changed in what for him is a hugely significant way. It's not enough YET but he reminds me that a lot of people who voted for Trump DO care, they just don't get it. Unfortunately we'll all learn the hard way now but it also means there are allies within the enemy, they just don't know it yet.

Please stop saying "fuck red states."

My in-laws have been so die hard Republican their entire lives and voted for Harris this year. Willing to get into loud family arguments and strain family relations over it. It's a change I had given up hoping to see and yet, it finally happened this year.

Please stop saying "fuck red states."

My tiny town is largely made up of migrant workers. Every business here is bilingual. Including the grocery stores, post office, and city hall. This town wouldn't exist without migrant workers. No one knows more about how much our farming communities NEED migrant workers more than the tiny farm towns in red states. I promise you, in my state, it's the Republicans in the cities here that are pushing for mass deportation, not the farmers.

Please stop saying "fuck red states."

I voted for one republican this year. Yep. An Asian American woman who grew up on a potato farm, married into the family of another potato farmer, ran on a campaign to halt rent inflation, allocate more state funding to education and foster care, and supported controversial decisions in the past to protect the environment. She was an incumbent and she won. She's playing the long game of knowing which party she can win running under in her home state and she's making a damn big difference in her little district.

Please stop saying "fuck red states."

There are young queer closeted kids here. I was one of them. I was voting and protesting for gay rights before there were any and I'll fucking do it again if I have to. Because over 1/4 people here DID vote for Harris and every single one of us have to stay and fight and be visible for the next generation of scared closeted queer kids because if we all left for blue states, who would be left to fight for them?

Please stop saying "fuck you" to the people I love and the home I've built. The future I see slowly building here can still happen. I still have hope. But if those fighting the good fight in red states give up now, if they say too say "fuck red states," then we really will have lost that future.

I love you everyone in red states right now.

I love you everyone who has family that is/will celebrate a Trump victory in your state.

I love you everyone surrounded by loved ones actively voting against your rights.

If you voted, you for Kamala, you did everything you could and you should be proud.

All of your frustration and anger is justified, understandable, and fair.

I’m sending you all love and peace.

[yanmuffins]

asks 2.

context.

here are some more asks i'm replying to in a bulk about phineas and ferb reader!!

my favorite part in dc. vs vampires is when reader comes together with damian and damian to build a silly machine that un-vampifies people in like half a day so they can defeat the vampire king. it is canon.

@amethystjellyfish

perry really is reader's number #1 stan. they're his family, reader's had him since he was a small platypus baby!

he does his best to keep reader safe, which is why he doesn't like the batfam much. he keeps it professional on the rare occasions they go on missions together, but that's it. he hates how dismissive of reader they are in the beginning, and he hates them later on when they star showering them with attention because they found out about their inventions.

not tired, anon! i love seeing people enjoy my concepts and interact with them!! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

and i'm sure this has happened. more than once, actually. the power of coincidence is strong with reader. the life-saving laser beam comes from a situation involving reader's latest machine they built and tested with the help of jon.

unfortunately, one of his lasers richochets on the machine during testing, not only causing it to save batfamily's life, caught in a dangerous situation in a completely different location, but also destroys the machine so there's nothing to link it to reader.

ah, well. they'll just have to keep looking.

reader, seeing them run past her: oh! there's perry :)

i love how we have established tim is terrified of this platypus. nevermind the other pets in the manor, it's the platypus with its googly eyes that drives him insane. they don't get it, he got up to drink water at 3 a.m. and the thing was just there, looking at him. menacingly.

jason would though. meanwhile, perry is wishing he could just go back to metropolis. he didn't have to deal with reader's siblings in metropolis. he doesn't get enough hazard pay for this.

hm... good question!

i like to think that, much like with phineas and ferb, luck is on reader's side most of the time, so i don't see reader getting injured by their own inventions.

but, let's suppose they do: it's a nice sunday afternoon, the batfam has decided to gather around the living room and hang out, watch a movie, lots of popcorn and soda. they don't have to think about criminals or fighting, tim and damian are bickering, jason is around, peace reigns the manor.

until they hear an explosion. they run to the garage only to find reader on the floor, unconscious, bleeding, and an assortment of destroyed metal components to a machine they can't decipher. damian doesn't even feel good about reader finally being busted.

later, when reader is back home, awake and out of risk but with a bandage around their head and their leg in a cast, they're in for the biggest (and probably first) scolding of their entire lives. reader tries to play it off. it wasn't that big of a deal, they're fine, aren't they? and they're genuinely optimistic about it. but the entire family is talking over each other at first, until bruce signals for everyone to shut up and leave the room. he has a very serious talk with reader, and makes it very clear they're not to come near a toolbox ever again.

but he understands. it's partly his fault for not being attentive. he won't make that mistake again.

ofc reader is really upset. dick comes next, then stephanie, then cass, then duke, then barbara and they all try to convince reader in a much more amiable tone that hey, it's fine. who needs to do all that whacky stuff to have fun? just hang out with us. they can get another hobby, and this time they can make it a family thing! how's that sound? not fun? don't be like that... they're sure reader will come around.

tim is pretty much the only one who congratulates them for being awesome pulling all those stunts, one per day, it's impressive. but now it's time to step back a bit. who knows? try being careful and bruce will let you work with a welding tool again. one day. maybe.

damian and jason's reactions are more similar to bruce's. in other circumstances, damian is on reader's side and helps them sneak around to continue their shenanigans, but in the case of reader getting hurt he just wants them to not do that. any of that. ever again. and jason has to hold himself back not to snap and ask them what the hell were they thinking?! they could have died! he ends up just telling them to quit it. they're just a kid who shouldn't be messing around with that sort of stuff.

anon, i wouldn't go as far as say he'd use venom against them, but he's bit batfam before. as stated, he does not dig their vibe at all!

anon, that's a great idea! though i think p&f! reader is much too motivated by the creative process and experience that their inventions bring more than just willing them to come to life.

they have the power to create whatever they want, but what's the fun of it? what about hte process? the building? the friends they make along the way? the memories? i think reader would find the ring awesome at first, but the novelty would wear of in less than a week.

anon...

because i dig the idea of reader being friends with dipper and mabel. reader talks about their crazy inventions, and loves hearing about all the cryptids they came across during vacation.

reader invites the twins to the manor, they share their most recent summer memories. reader talks about that one time they built and drove a massive monster truck with their brother damian, but jason only comes into the room in time to hear about dipper and mable talk about the weirdmaggedon. he has several question marks around his head. aren't those kids a a little too old to be making shit up? or maybe... no, there's no way. or is there? no... he would have heard about this... but weirder things have happened. but what if...

@randomlyappearingartist

you are so right. to be honest, i don't even think the batfam would even know of his existence, since he's pretty much a very minor villain acting in metropolis. after perry joins the league, or in the rare occasion of dr. doof teaming up with another minor gotham villian like condiment man, is when they get to know he exists.

and since perry seems to have him under control, they don't even acknowledge the guy.

i love love love this sm!

they assume it's just flash mobs. it's got to be. flash mobs with really weird themes, like an entire musical number dedicated to the squirrels in damian's pants. that was strange. bruce patrolling in the middle of the night and this new crime lord just burst into a song with a band and hired back dancers, because it's apparently a new trend a minor villain in metropolis started.

and what about that one time dick took damian (and reader) to the library and some guy just started singing about how he doesn't have rhythm? and damian just started playing a trumpet? and reader started singing? i mean, it was a bop and he started dancing, but it was weird anyway.

but now i'm thinking of damian and reader singing the "summer" song together (he sings the "it's noticeably warmer" and that's it) though! wholesome.

@lazyandannoyng

not annoying at all! you're good ⸜(˙꒳​˙ )

i have this little idea in my head that reader doesn't take the wayne name when find out bruce is their dad and move to gotham, and bruce is pretty secretive about this new kid of his for purely privacy and safety reasons. so when reader does their networking, it's often not obvious they're a wayne. not sure if this will make it into the fic, but it really resonates with this concept!

it's also funny to think that a lot of people don't even know reader and the waynes are related. even if they do know reader is related to the batfam, nobody really talks about them by name (just "your sibling"), and all of those little details like never asking about where the gloves came from (because why would he) or the misunderstandings where one party means one thing and the other assumes it's another (dick has many siblings! too many!) just end up helping reader not get caught. and i just think that's neat.

[icarusredwings]

Getting deep into the x men fandom means seeing ships I don't agree with, so I don't interact, seeing posts that mischaraterizes one of the deepest charaters possible, so I don't interact, Seeing people actively say things that are blatantly wrong, so I don't interact.

Getting a large following is also kind of frustrating (Im not complaining I love you guys!) But I've had to block 2 people already today because they keep leaving rude replies to my comments on OTHER peoples posts or purposly come to my blog to tell me that how I view a charater is wrong. Had someone tell me that the stuff that happens in MY au is dumb because "that would never happen" like yeah bud. The writers at Marvel are too much of cowards for it to happen, hence why i'm here.

So my thing is... if im chosing not to interact with all of this- why is it still on my feed?

I feel like the more I ignore it the more I see and I do not wish to be the type to block someone simply because they make one post about a ship that personally isn't my cup of tea.

Also- I think Im starting to see the different sides of extremes, especially when it comes to one specifc charater.

Logan.

I have seen dozens of lovely stories, lovely rants, lovely head canons about this man-

But something that feels weird (to me at least) is people who are 45+ yelling at people who aren't even 18 that their story/headcanons are trash because they've "been enjoying Logan for 40+ years" as if this gives them any right to tell a 17 year old that they shouldnt write a charater how they see them.

It's also weird to me that there seems to be two sides.

Logan IS an animal and that's perfectly okay.

Or

Logan ISN'T an animal, and everyone who headcanons him as animalistic is fetishizing his mutation and are insulting him.

I get not liking a certain trope, but sir, that person is young enough to be your child. You have to accept that we all grew up with different versions of each charater. I Personally didn't grow up with any and get the luxury of indulging in all sorts of media all at once- therefore getting to see him from multiple sides and pictures.

I completely understand if you grew up with the original series and are upset to see that kids are headcanoning your stone cold angst biker man as wearing bow clips and 'making biscuits' on a pillow while watching gilmore girl with his boyfriend, and wearing pink fluffy hello kitty pants and a tight shirt that says "Milk"

I completely understand if you grew up with the movies and see him as a sexy gruff hot buff man and you love to write lots and lots of steamy x reader about him.

I completely understand if you LIKE logan wearing hello kitty pants and don't agree with the idea of him being a dark edgelord, lone wolf charater.

Do you know what I don't understand? Fighting over a charater when different timelines have been canon since the 80s. The Time Variance Authority (TVA) first appeared in Thor #372 (October 1986) which means ALL of your logans are the correct logan. Just not all the same.

Do I think Wolverine Orgins Logan would wear pink hello kitty pants? Nah.

Do I know that Deadpool and wolverine Logan is a whole different universe then Orgins Logan? Yes.

That's why people tag different logans and different aus. So what is all the fuss about?? What happened to the more the merrier?

Theres so many different versions of comic book logan, too, so don't even go there.

Feel free to ask my personal opinions but as far as I stand I could never be foolish enough to seriously go into someone elses post and genuinely be upset at them for how they perceive a charater. I get second hand embaressment when ever I see ANYONE doing it.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk. I don't care if I lose followers for this. Let the door hit you on the way out. There aint no reason to be harrassing folks.

[nokingsonlyfooles]

If you weren't scared until Tuesday night... *hand over eyes, pause to collect self* You are collectively in an abusive relationship with your government and I know lots of people don't have any other experience with that kind of situation, or haven't applied it at scale. I have been there and I know I can't just yell at you to stop enabling the people who are killing you slowly, and killing a lot of other people quickly, right now. That will not get me the behaviour I want to see.

However, if you were able to ignore the danger until Tuesday night, not just the danger to yourself but to your friends and families and communities, or if it seems way worse now, you have been in a privileged position and you need to understand that not everyone watching you vent your anxiety is in the same place.

(Personally, I believe my high horse pancaked right about the time they put a for-profit child prison in my town. It's still there. I'm sure Biden and Harris would tell you that makes them feel very sad, and they will fight so very hard to close it down, but it's still there and there are still children in it. I'm just not there anymore, that's why I'm spelling "behaviour" with a u in it. This is also a privilege, but it's not so much of one that it kept us from understanding what was happening.)

And, if you're speaking where someone with loved ones in Palestine (or Lebanon, or Syria, or any immigrants at the southern border, or a family who had someone gunned down by the police, or anyone else who's subjected to the real bad stuff), you need to be prepared to apologize. You were not paying attention. The US government has been an existential threat for a long time. I'm sorry the threat has become obvious enough for more of you to see it, that's not fun for anyone, but you're going to need to approach that with humility and listen to the people who've been surviving it already. They know what they're doing, we've been failing to kill them for a long time, just ask.

i've been feeling incredible anger and frustration lately with these posts lamenting what the next four years will look like in the u.s., how much "worse" things will get under the trump administration, as if we haven't been witnessing a holocaust for the past year funded by the biden administration. if you have seen a single video from gaza, a single picture, read a feature from a gazan journalist, spoken to a single person in your inbox when they plead for your attention and help, words like "worse" or "better" turn to ash in your mouth. just yesterday my friend hilda texted me that even when her family manages to get food, smoke from the fire needed to cook aggravates her sinus allergies, making it difficult to breathe. this is how she's been living for the past year and a month, under a democrat-funded genocide.

below is a small fraction of the palestinians who have reached out to me for help with their campaigns. it is a huge source of shame to me that i can't keep up with all of the people in my inbox. please go to their accounts and read their stories. and please give what you can spare.

hilda @hildanasr1 / GFM - 5%

dina @dina179 / GFM - 33%

yousseff @youseffamily / GFM - 92%

suad @suad-khaled / GFM - 51%

nada @nadamd44 / GFM - 1%

asma @asmaayyad2 / GFM - 62%

shehab family @reemshehabnew / GFM - 90%

yahya @yahyabkheet-blog / GFM - 21%

mohammed @mohammed-hassouna1 / GFM - 19%

abdulrahman @3bdulra7manosama / GFM - 9%

mai @abuhamdasblog / GFM - 5%

ibrahim @aburakhiaibrahim / GFM - 22%

mona @mansh99 / GFM - 13%

ahmed @najah-meshal5 / GFM - 16%

noor @noor-yashour / GFM - 10%

*ALL CAMPAIGNS ARE VETTED*

[passengerprincessblog]

“Intern”~ pt. 1 Max Verstappen x reader

Disclaimer: Reader doesn’t have to be blonde! The images is just to show she’s working for the team!

Warnings: degrading? Mean max.

Summary: The series follows Y/N, a fresh and slightly timid media intern for the Red Bull Racing team, who is thrown into the chaotic, high-stakes world of Formula 1. Her job quickly becomes challenging not only because of the high-pressure environment but because of Max Verstappen, the star driver with a talent for making her feel small and flustered. Max’s arrogance and relentless teasing leave her feeling out of her depth, yet strangely captivated. Despite his condescending demeanor, there’s an undeniable pull between them, a tension that seems to simmer just beneath the surface.

I sit quietly in the corner of the motorhome, tapping nervously on my phone as I check my messages. The whole atmosphere here is intimidating, even more so when Max Verstappen and Checo stroll in, laughing at some private joke. Their easy confidence is almost tangible, filling the room with a sense of belonging I can only hope to someday feel.

Max’s eyes land on me for a split second, and I quickly look away, pretending to be engrossed in a message from my boss, Adam. I can feel my cheeks heat up just from that brief eye contact. It’s silly, but he’s… well, he’s Max Verstappen. There’s something intimidating in the way he looks at people, like he’s sizing them up and finding them lacking. And, of course, I’m not immune to his scrutiny.

The only time he’s spoken to me before, he’d made a throwaway comment that left me red-faced. He wasn’t even trying to be mean—it just slipped out, something about me “looking lost.” The memory of my blush and his faint smirk is still fresh, and I can’t seem to shake it.

My phone buzzes with a message from Adam: Can you come to Meeting Room 3 ASAP?

With a deep breath, I make my way to the meeting room, hoping Adam’s request isn’t something beyond my skill level. When I arrive, he looks a bit frazzled, glancing up from his stack of papers with an apologetic smile.

“Y/N, I know you’re still new, and I haven’t had the chance to train you properly…” he starts, running a hand through his hair. “But we’re short-staffed this weekend, so I need you to help the media team cover for the missing people. Think you’re up for it?”

I swallow hard, my nerves tightening at the idea of being around Max and the rest of the drivers more than I already have been. But I don’t want to let Adam down; he’s been nothing but encouraging since I started, always pushing me to do better, to learn more. It’s why I like him so much as a boss.

“Of course, Adam,” I reply, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “What do you need me to do?”

He hands me a tablet and goes over the details. My main job will be to record the drivers’ answers during interviews, ensuring we have accurate records. I’ll also assist Andrew with media release forms. It’s straightforward, but the thought of messing up in front of Max makes my stomach churn.

Later in the day, Adam decides it’s time for a proper introduction. He drags me into the garage, where Max is leaning against one of the cars, arms folded as he talks with a mechanic. When he sees us approaching, he raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if he already knows I’m way out of my league.

“Max, this is Y/N,” Adam says cheerfully. “She’s helping us out with the media coverage this weekend. We’re a bit understaffed, so she’ll be shadowing you a lot.”

Max looks me up and down, his gaze almost clinical, as if he’s evaluating whether I’ll be a help or a hindrance. He smiles, but it’s the polite kind—the one people give when they’re forced to interact with someone they don’t particularly care about.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says, offering a brief nod. “So, they haven’t trained you yet, huh?”

My cheeks flush, and I look away, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. There’s something so arrogant about him, the way he stands there, completely sure of himself. Why does he have to be like this? He’s just a driver, after all. A very talented one, sure, but still just a person. But his energy—the way he carries himself—makes it clear he’s used to people fawning over him.

“Not yet,” I reply, managing to keep my voice steady.

He just chuckles, clearly amused. “Well, I’ll break you in.” He says quietly enough for me to hear.

What? What did he just- I blink and smile at him.

A few hours later, we’re on our way to the media pen after qualifying. I’m clutching the tablet tightly, going over my mental checklist to make sure I have everything. Just as we reach the interview area, I realize with a sickening jolt that I’ve left the team phone back in the motorhome.

I take a deep breath, feeling the embarrassment already creeping up my cheeks. “Um… Max?” I ask hesitantly, trying to keep my voice steady. “Do you mind waiting a minute?”

He looks at me, eyebrow raised, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You forgot the phone, didn’t you?” he says, not even bothering to hide his smirk. “Let me guess—you didn’t think you’d need it?”

I nod, my cheeks heating up further, and I try to apologize. “I’m sorry, it won’t take long—”

“Oh, don’t worry, intern,” he says, emphasizing the title like it’s an insult. “I know you’re new, but I figured you’d be a bit smarter than that. Or is this your way of making sure I remember your name?”

His tone is light, but the words sting. I try to laugh it off, but it comes out more like a nervous squeak. “It’s just… I thought I had everything.”

He leans closer, making me meet his gaze, his expression full of condescension. “Don’t look so nervous. I’m asking you a question,” he says slowly, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable I am.

“I… I know. I just—”

“Didn’t think?” he cuts me off, chuckling to himself. “It’s fine. Go on, intern. Fetch the phone. I’ll wait here, seeing as you’re so eager to do a good job.”

I nod and practically sprint back to the motorhome, my mind racing. By the time I return with the phone, my cheeks are still burning, and I can tell from the look on his face that he’s pleased with himself.

During the interviews, I focus on recording Max’s answers, refusing to make eye contact. I can feel him glancing at me every few moments, as if he’s waiting for me to make another mistake, something else he can latch onto. But I keep my head down, determined to finish this task without another hitch.

Later that day, Adam calls me aside, a slight frown on his face as he glances at a form in his hands. “Y/N, I need Max’s signature on this media release form. Looks like you forgot to get it earlier.”

I feel my heart sink. Another mistake. Another opportunity for Max to remind me just how out of place I am here. Swallowing my pride, I head to his driver’s room, my hands shaking slightly as I knock on the door.

“Come in,” he calls, sounding a bit exasperated.

I step inside, holding the form and pen. He’s lounging on a chair, scrolling through his phone, barely sparing me a glance. “Um, Max… I just need you to sign this release form.”

He finally looks up, an infuriatingly smug smile on his face. “Intern, I thought we went over this,” he says, leaning back with a mock sigh. “Didn’t I tell you earlier to get it all done at once?”

“I… I’m sorry. I just—”

“Forgot. Again,” he interrupts, looking like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. “Is this going to be a habit with you? Or should I expect you to keep knocking on my door every five minutes?”

I can feel the embarrassment flooding my cheeks, but I hold out the paper and pen, refusing to let him see how much his words sting. “It won’t happen again,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

He takes the form from me, signing it with a flourish, but not before giving me one last smirk. “Let’s hope not. I don’t have time to babysit, intern.” he says, clearly enjoying himself.

He doesn’t hand the form back to me. Instead, he holds onto it, his fingers curling around the edges, teasing me as I reach out, waiting for him to relinquish it. But he makes no move to do so. His smirk only widens, and I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach.

“Maybe,” he begins, his tone dripping with mock thoughtfulness, “maybe I shouldn’t give it back to you. Maybe you should learn from your mistakes.” He pauses, watching as I grow visibly more uncomfortable under his scrutiny. And then, with a single, swift movement, he crumples the paper in his fist.

My mouth falls open in shock, and he raises an eyebrow, clearly pleased with himself.

“Do you need a babysitter, Y/N?” he taunts, his voice soft but laced with condescension. “Is that what you’re asking for? Because that’s what it looks like to me. Someone to hold your hand, make sure you don’t make any more silly mistakes.”

His words sting, each one hitting me like a small slap to my pride. I can feel frustration bubbling up inside me, the urge to snap back at him nearly overwhelming. But I bite my tongue, swallowing the retort building in my throat. I can’t risk my job, no matter how badly I want to put him in his place.

Instead, I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “No… I’m sorry,” I mumble, trying to keep any hint of annoyance out of my voice. It takes everything I have not to glare at him, but I keep my expression as neutral as possible.

Max’s smirk only grows at my response. He seems to revel in my discomfort, enjoying every second of this little power play. He lets the crumpled paper fall from his hand, watching it drift to the floor near his feet. “If you’re so sorry,” he says, gesturing to the paper on the ground, “then pick it up and make it work. I’m sure a little crease won’t stop an intern like you, right?”

I hesitate for a moment, the indignation flaring up again, but I bite it back. He’s baiting me, waiting for me to snap so he has another reason to belittle me. So, without another word, I crouch down, reaching for the paper that lies just near his feet. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time, that smug satisfaction radiating off him as I pick up the wrinkled form and straighten back up, clutching it tightly.

I want to say something, to tell him off, to make him realize how unbearable he’s being. But all I do is nod, the words caught in my throat as I straighten the paper as best I can. Max watches me, one eyebrow raised in clear amusement, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Say thank you,” he commands, his tone soft but dripping with authority.

I clench my jaw, every fiber of my being resisting the urge to roll my eyes. But I know better. I swallow my pride, forcing myself to look up at him, though the words feel heavy on my tongue. “Thank you,” I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He tilts his head, that smirk growing, clearly pleased by my forced gratitude. “See you tomorrow, intern,” he says, his tone dismissive, as if I’m nothing more than a minor inconvenience in his day.

Without another word, I turn and leave, clutching the wrinkled paper in my hand, his mocking gaze burning into my back as I step out of the room.

——————————————-

Thank you for reading! 😇

Remember, liking and following let’s me know you want more writings! 💜

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do �� so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[aurae-rori]

okay so hear me out i have a genius idea

yanqing in sumeru. (yes, the obvious option would be to put him in liyue, but i honestly don't feel like writing that right now).

yanqing and cyno interactions.

YANQING AND WANDERER INTERACTIONS.

now that i've caught your attention-

yanqing falls through a wormhole or something. ends up stranded in sumeru. like, right in sumeru city. he wakes up in an alleyway and is like genuinely, what the mcflipping fuck. so he wanders through sumeru, talks to a few people who have NEVER heard of the xianzhou luofu, and eventually, someone reports him to the corps of 30 because there is an unsupervised foreign child who keeps on talking about a xianzhou luofu, what the FUCK is a xianzhou luofu.

they take him in to the matra, he answers a couple of questions, EVERYONE involved is confused as shit, so they pull out cyno. yanqing talks to him and hes like. you remind me of my dad. hahaha. and cyno is like. okay this kid is telling the truth. so we're gonna have to keep him around until we figure out a way to send him back to the luofu.

(this gets really long)

he does not want to go into a fucking rainforest, so he ends up rooming with kaveh & alhaitham after spending a few nights with nahida and bonding with her (i believe they r friends,,,) and she reccomends that he go to stay with them. yanqing is very polite and doesn't make his prsence known a lot because he is genuinely kind of afraid of the two of them even tho they are really nice to him, and one day he goes out and he just wanders through the streets of sumeru and bumps into the wanderer. he introduces himself as 'hat guy' and a friend of nahida's, so yanqing is like, oh, cool. wait, what? your name is HAT GUY?

cue bullying wanderer. and wanderer is like, this kid doesn't know who he's fucking talking to wtf and maybe they end up sparring or something. i think they would bond over fighting and yanqing would pick up a few tips and tricks from wanderer, who probably is secretly like, 'this kid has talent what the fuck where did this child even come from'. eventually after they spar for a bit yanqing ends up telling him more about the xianzhou and from that interaction with wanderer, he starts to come out of his shell more. he eats dinner with kaveh and alhaitham, and gets used to their bickering. he goes to see cyno again and meets tighnari and collei, even faruzan who probably takes a liking to him. people take him to nilou's shows. when candace and dehya visit from the desert he gets to meet them too.

and slowly, over time, they start to get to know him more. he tells them stories of the high cloud quintet, from their rise to their fall. he tells them about the borisin, and hoolay, and feixiao. he tells them about jiaoqiu and his bravery, sushang and her determination, huohuo and tail. he tells them about yunli's bravery and brashness, about jing yuan's patience and slyness, of moze's shennanigans and loyalty.

he tells them broken bits and pieces of stories and then, he tells them about the xianzhou history. he tells them about mara. he tells them about how he's had to cut down soldiers so much older than him that he wouldn't even know when they were born.

he tells them about the disciples of abundance, in little, clipped stories.

and they listen.

he draws his friends, too. he's not too great at it, but he draws them, and tells cyno that he reminds him so much of his dad. he plays tcg with them, joins them for game night. drags wanderer into social interactions, explores sumeru, watches the sun set from the trees.

he makes them little mementos of himself. he commissions someone to make a little bird charm out of materials he gathers up. and then he gives them to his friends, and when jing yuan inevitably comes to see him home (he wants to go back, he loves it here but he loves his home more) they will be able to remember him.

yanqing learns that defeat is okay. he learns that he can be loved. and that people are really complex, and that love can be shown in different ways. yanqing learns that he can love, too. :)

wow this turned way longer than i thought it would so uh. hope u enjoy my nonsensical ramblings!

[clini-calia]

It's tough. It is.

I'm a 30-year-old transgender man. From ages 16 to 23-ish, I was stuck in the alt-right pipeline, as well. I watched all that stupid bullshit with "feminists getting owned!!!1!" and what the fuck ever else. I think what pushed me towards it was how people on Tumblr used to be upset over EVERYTHING and would belittle me for my masculinity. I remember seeing a post that had a gif of a scene from some anime, I dunno which one, and it was of a naked girl laying down. People were complaining about her breasts not being realistic - it wasn't the size, it was that they weren't sagging or drooping, and that men need to be portrayed with rock hard dicks that never soften or whatever. But I was just sitting there thinking, "She's laying down... lol. Gravity is literally pushing her breasts against her chest, not pulling them down."

Anyway. Posts like that, but they got worse. I've had a lot of people on the left question my gender. "Why would you want to be a man? Women are the better choice." "I don't know why you'd want to do that, why give up your femininity?" I got into a small argument with a woman once on it, basically saying that it felt like trans men weren't really counted much and were largely ignored in the trans community, along with non binary people, who are usually just treated as "Women Lite." She got so angry that she told me, "You probably just wanna be a guy because you're too ugly to get one for yourself."

That's what tipped me over to the right for a bit. Until I realized they cared even less about me and that if given the chance, well. What happened on November 5th would happen, and they'd look for any excuse to strip me of my rights.

For cis, straight, white men it's not so easy to get out of. They're welcomed with open arms, there's no looming threat of having their rights taken away. So the pull of some "brotherhood" is more enticing. I was groomed and sexually assaulted by a man, but I was also sexually assaulted and groomed by a woman. I'll always believe that, no matter what, humans are just humans. White, black, gay, straight, trans, cis, man, woman - humans. And humans can be good, and they can also fucking suck. So I'll never say "all men are trash" or "all women are garbage" or anything like it ever again.

I see men's issues with mental health. I wish they would understand that it's the patriarchy that ultimately fuels those issues, and I wish some women would see how they also contribute to it. I see a lot of younger women these days placing men's entire values on their income, their careers, their appearances, what they can buy for them... I've seen a tweet of dudes just chilling and playing video games, showing off Pokemon cards or some shit and a woman quote retweeted it and said, "Men used to fight in wars. 🙄" Yeah. That'll stop toxic masculinity - tell men they're not real men unless they go to war and give up what makes them happy. Nice...

The patriarchy hurts women by enforcing the idea that they are to submit to men's wishes, stay at home, clean, cook, have babies. That's all women are allowed to experience.

The patriarchy hurts men by enforcing the idea that they are to overwork themselves, abandon any non traditional masculine interests and basic human emotions in favor of that work, and go to fight and possibly die in wars.

These ideals were put into place as soon as different tribes, races, countries and so on realized that, "Oh. There's OTHER types of people, and I want to be the most powerful and rich so they don't take what I have. Hmm. Better make sure women can only spit out plenty of babies and that plenty of those babies are men to be my soldiers and workforce."

If you're a man that supports any of those ideas, fuck you. If you're a woman that supports any of those ideas, fuck you, too. I'm sick and tired of generalizing people. I'm sick and tired of having to give up pieces of ourselves in order to put more money in billionaire's pockets. I'm sick and tired of men being told they're "too feminine" to be a man over being into stuff like sewing, baking, dolls, fashion, cozy games and I'm tired of seeing women being told they're "too masculine" to be a woman for being into coding, mechanical work, FPS games, science and I'm tired of seeing non binary people being told they're too much of one or the other to be non binary.

I'm tired of seeing men put down other men for having a fucking emotion other than anger or goddamn numbness. I'm tired of seeing women put down other women for being more attractive or not attractive enough. Just... stupid, petty bullshit that should have been over and done with decades ago, why the fuck are we STILL here?

It's tough. Because I love men and care deeply about men. But I also don't think we need to baby them and pat them on the back and say, "It's OK that you joined a fascist group of people that openly and proudly call themselves Nazis." And if a man ever tells me or any woman or AFAB person that it's "your body, my choice," I will grab the nearest blunt object I can get my hands on and beat the snot, shit, and blood out of them.

But I do think we need to work harder at not alienating our CIS, straight, white, male allies. We need to stop generalizing everybody and correct our language when talking about people. And we especially need to make it clear that the alt-right only seeks to divide for their own benefit, not for anyone else's. It's money and power that they want. Men, unless you are wealthy, you are just a vote and a pawn to them, nothing else. We need Democrats in the USA to stop rolling over and blowing kisses to Republicans in the hopes that they'll play nice and cut us some slack. It's not going to happen, not in meaningful numbers. And we NEED to crack down harder on alt-right online spaces. I don't give a fuck no more, get rid of that shit, I don't care if it's seen as too extreme or censorship, if you give these dangerous people a place to commune and feel safe with their harmful ideologies, then it WILL spill over into other spaces. And parents of young children: you need to BE BETTER at monitoring what your kids are seeing and doing online. Take it from someone who no-lifes online games: they are going into these spaces and saying heinous, horrible shit. They are being groomed, they are saying slurs and sexually harassing women, they are even seeking sexual attention and guidance from adults and strangers, and some of those adults are sick enough to take them up on their offers. One little trip into a few public instances of games like VRChat will be all the proof you need. I love the Internet, I really do, but I also see how its anonymity has done harm to us and has severely damaged how young people interact with each other, online and offline.

Anyway, sorry that was so long. I've been pissed the fuck off since I saw that Trump "won" the election and this shit has been on my mind for years, just even more so now.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[gingersnapwolves]

so I had some thoughts on the burnout post but didn't want to hijack it so this is just my own rambling attempt to process the feelings I've been struggling with for two days which obviously not everyone wants to read, thus my putting a read more

I've been crying off and on for the past couple days which is really no surprise, and I've been trying to avoid political news and political posts. In fact, after this I plan to hide the political tags for a while, heavily curate my Reddit experience, and then do I don't even know what with all my new free time

because I don't talk about it a lot here, this is my fandom space, my casual space, and I'll sometimes post about personal stuff but almost never politics, but I am actually very political. 'member of multiple political mailing lists, have marched in many protests, write postcards to swing state voters' political. and I want to talk a little about why this defeat feels different. because this crushed me in a way that 2016 did not.

the thing is. over the past few days I've seen a lot of people talking about how if you didn't realize Trump was going to win, you live in a bubble. and I think to a certain extent that's true. we all have our little echo chambers. but for me, at least, and a lot of the people I know, it wasn't just that. it was this core certainty that Trump would not win, could not win, because surely our country wasn't like that. surely our fellow Americans were not like that. it wasn't about competency or about policy. it was about basic human decency. and that's what I feel like we lost. not an election. but any remaining belief we had that people are basically good.

because it seems they're not. at least not around here. the cold hard fact at the end of the day is that the majority of our country looked at a senile, racist, fascist criminal grifter [eta: how could I forget rapist in that description?] and either actively wanted him to hold the highest office in the land, or just didn't care whether or not he did. they know exactly what he's going to do, and they're fine with it. and that hurts so much that it is nearly unbearable.

how do you move on from that? how do you cope with the fact that there's something so deeply rotten at the core of your fellow man? how do you deal with that? how do you fight back?

I am full of so much grief that I literally don't know where to put it.

so I don't want to fight anymore. I'm tired. I'm nauseated. I'm angry. But most of all, I'm sad. I can't do it right now. and I think that's probably okay. I think in six weeks or six months I'll feel differently. but right now I just can't do it. and I think the most important thing really can be to take a step back and focus on something else. because I know these feelings are not productive. I know that there are still good people out there and there are still things worth fighting for. but right now, all I feel is this aching chasm where my faith in humanity used to be.

so I'm unplugging - not from fandom or tumblr, but from politics and news - for at least a little while. sometimes that's the most important thing to do if you want to still be able to get out of bed in the morning.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 23: Comfort/Crying

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Comfort/Crying (🌼)

Summary: You’ve had a shitty couple of months, trying to hold on for the sake of everyone around you, but you can only take so much…

Warnings: Angst, crying, slight allusions to depression, self-loathing, hurt/comfort, not proof-read

Word Count: 982

A/n: This prompt hits differently now than it would have when I intended to post it, but now it also comes at the right time because I do feel like we have all cried a lot lately. I know I have, and I could use some good old Matty comfort right about now. Like, a hug would be enough.

Read Me On AO3! (coming soon)

You’re tired. 

You’re so tired.

Life has had quite the habit of beating you down lately, and you are so exhausted you just want to disappear. You are expected to function, but how can you when you’re already falling apart?

“Hey,” Matt says softly from the doorway. “You okay?”

You don’t look up from the onions you’re cutting. He just got home from court; the last thing he wants is to listen to you bitch and moan about what a shitty month you’ve had. 

You have to function because there are people who depend on you. If you’re not strong for him, what is the point? In your mind, at least, that makes sense, twisted as it may be—and it is incredibly twisted.

“Yeah,” you lie. “Just… making dinner.”

The vegetable’s gases burn in your eyes. You’re shaking, but that must be all the caffeine you had after yet another sleepless night. Matt is gone so much, during the day as this kindhearted lawyer who fights for the rights of the innocent, and at night as Daredevil, he doesn’t know how you keep tossing and turning when he’s not there. You can’t blame him for having his own shit to deal with; he’s a good boyfriend, and you love him to pieces, but you can’t talk to him. 

You don’t want him to worry because you know he would burn the world down if it meant you could be free of all this pain. He would find a way to exorcize the hell out of the demons in your head, wrap you in cotton, and keep you safe from the storm raging outside. He would let go of everything just to be with you, and you refuse to let yourself be this fucking selfish. Because people depend on him, too. 

But oh, you are truly falling apart at the seams. Too much to feel, too much to think about—it is a painful weight on your chest threatening to crush you. There is no reason behind it, just a myriad of disasters balled into one, and the avalanche is about to take you away. 

Matt reaches out, fingers brushing your shoulder. “You sure?” he asks. 

You swallow the lump in your throat. 

“You’re crying.”

“It’s the onions,” you say. “The, uh, fumes…”

“Okay.” 

He doesn’t have to acknowledge the fact that you’re crying to know something is wrong with you. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you flush against his chest. 

He’s your sanctuary. 

His hand hovers over the one holding the knife.  “Let go,” he says. “Let go…” 

Your fingers loosen around the handle. Matt catches it, wasting no time to place it aside before you can hurt yourself on the sharp edge of its blade. His voice is a mere breath against your heated temple. “That’s it. It’s okay.”

You can barely breathe, your arms flailing around helplessly. Matt doesn’t dare let go of you, afraid you might fall apart if he loosens his hold, so he squeezes his arms around you until you are enveloped in a cocoon of him, and the world outside disappears.

He shushes in your ear. Gentle whispers of, ‘You’re okay. I’ve got you,’ course through your veins like a balm for your weary soul. You’ve been holding on for the sake of the people around you for too long; it rolls over you like a boulder. You can no longer stop it. 

His hands find yours, intertwining your fingers as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Let it out,” he says. 

The tears run down your cheek in an endless flood. It’s ugly, messy, and feels like too much, but Matt doesn’t pull away. He stands there, absorbing every bit of it, trying to work as a sponge to soak up what’s hurting you. He would rather have you take the pain out on him than suffer through any of this alone.

When you finally manage to suck in a deep, shuddering breath, you’re exhausted—wrung out. Wrecked. But there is a sudden emptiness where the crushing weight of the world on your shoulders used to be. 

You finally lift your head, tearful eyes staring back into his. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

He shushes you. “You needed to cry. It’s okay.”

You whimper at the tenderness in his voice. 

“It’s okay to lean on me.” He turns you around to him, pressing your face into his chest. “Just promise me you’ll come to me next time.” A kiss melts against your temple. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

A sharp breath burns the tender flesh of your lungs. “No, I–” you stammer. “I have t–”

He cuts you off, his own voice on the verge of breaking. “You don’t. You’re not alone, sweetheart. Not anymore.”

The dam might be breaking, but he is right there to pick up the pieces before they can get lost in the current with the shards of your broken heart. He patches you up the only way he knows how: with his hands and silent declarations of his undying love. 

And it really is undying, you realize. He loves you when you’re put together, and he loves you when you’re broken. He loves you without a doubt or second thought. He loves you unconditionally, wholly, and he would go to the ends of the earth for you. 

You’re not alone. You might have been once, but not since you met him. Not since he walked into your life and turned it all upside-down. 

You filled each other’s empty hearts like it was the only thing to do.

You don’t have to deal with these demons on your own anymore because Matt will always be there for you, no matter how much you loathe your miserable self. He will always be there to pick up the pieces, and you will never have to be alone again.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[werevampiwolf]

Also, people can change from how they were raised. My parents are low-key white supremacists (low-key in that they'd say they weren't if you asked, but if you read them some talking points with no context, they'd agree with them). Consequently, I had to unlearn a lot of things once I got old enough to understand what was going on (and was allowed to access outside information, because I was kept extremely sheltered and isolated for most of my childhood). I did need people to give me some level of patience and space to possibly mess up as I learned. I'm not talking about saying the N-word or something; that's not something I ever liked. I'm talking like "wow, you're really pretty for a [insert thing here] girl" or asking to touch someone's 4C hair. I wasn't taught as a small child that that was rude, and was actually taught that things that were a lot more "macro" than microagressions were okay, so I had to learn where the line is. I like to think that I would have still powered through in learning not to be how I was raised if people were constantly jumping down my throat for every little thing, even though I was trying my best, but I can't actually say that for sure. I'm only human, after all, and I was just a teenager at that.

(I'm not exaggerating on what my parents are like, either. My parents made me promise when I was 8 (in 2004) that I would never date or marry outside my (white) race, and my parents still defended that the last time I brought it up, because "no one wants mixed babies.")

And I'm also a disabled trans queer who's also a leftist, and the only person I've ever been in a relationship with was mixed race. You obviously can date a person of color and still be racist though (also see "i have a black friend"), but my point is that even though I didn't keep the agreement, I can't change the fact that I did still make that agreement in the first place. Though I don't blame myself too much for that particular incident because I was 8; I wasn't even really conceptualizing dating in anything but the broadest of strokes yet (and I ended up being demi ace). Also, I really wouldn't have had the option to refuse, and doing so would have put me in danger. I didn't know it at the time, but my mother had already planned to kill me a few years prior for being "difficult" (AKA having autism that they refused to let me get diagnosed with). I'm pretty sure the only reason she didn't was because she wasn't sure she'd be able to overpower me without help from my dad, since I was always big and strong for my age, and my mother has had a severe back injury my entire life.

This isn't just a me patting myself on the back either. My point is that people can actually change, but you do need to let them. You don't have to forgive them, but no one is ever going to get better if they feel like they're not allowed to. They may be taking a real risk by even considering "disloyalty". You think neo-nazi groups let you just walk away and become a leftist without a fight? They don't. And even if they're not putting themselves in physical danger, it's still very isolating to leave behind your friends and family and start over. (I never had to leave a neo-nazi group, though I know someone who did, but I have experienced the isolation from leaving everything behind.)

Just... try and be patient with those who are fighting with you, who are still learning but are trying their best.

Never forget that acceptance of far-right ideals (ie tradwives, terfs, casual racism) in liberal spaces is a huge part of why today’s radicalization is so widespread and unquestioned