#even if I don't actually do much with it or have much

[isa-ghost]

Maybe this is extremely incorrect or narrow of me to think in some way, but

When you learn about Hitler's takeover in school, I feel like you always imagine it being so much bigger, even bigger than it already was, like more... I don't know how to explain it. Like it stopped every single other aspect of life for everyone ever. Because like. Y'know, gigantic historical event. Like unfathomable degrees of impact on a global scale, even if that was only the case after years of damage.

And yet here we (Americans) are, living through something that has terrifying amounts of parallels to the start of all that, and like... Nope. Life doesn't freeze, not everyone feels an instant tangible change for the worst. People are still living out their daily lives, doing whatever their version of mundane life is, whether it's working for less than minimum wage at a shitty retail job, doomscrolling on the toilet at home, seeking out somewhere to stay warm and safe, etc.

Like no matter what life is like for them, everyone is acutely aware one way or another that this is happening and ongoing, but chances are it probably isn't completely derailing their average day (I'm having a hard time wording this in a way that emphasizes there's an element of privilege involved in this and keeps the people who will be impacted ASAP by things like ICE raids and such in mind but the sentiment is there, sorry).

Like. This is the next 4 years of our lives. I'm a poor, queer, neurodivergent woman. And I'm still more privileged than some people despite being quadruple disadvantaged (for a lack of better term). But I feel like I'm living a death sentence despite that privilege. And you'd think that, given I feel that way, what's happening today and will be happening for the next 4 years would feel more real than it does right now? Like I wouldn't be sitting in my home completely objectively fine, casually posting here on Tumblr feeling existential and spending an embarrassing amount of time trying to word what I'm thinking in a way that isn't/doesn't feel ignorant in some way.

But no. We're on the precipice of god knows what and it's not consuming very single American's life including mine in every single conceivable way like how you (or at least I, I guess) imagine it was for every single person back before/during WWII.

I dunno, I guess I'm just really feeling like this meme right now.

And it's all only made worse by the fact that like. The election was rigged (said by Trump himself btw) and there are a million other blatantly obvious reasons this shouldn't be happening. And yet it is. Like not only do we have to endure unimaginable amounts of dread for years to come, but we have the knowledge that this should not be happening to begin with but everything is so fucked up and the people that could do something to stop it are so fucking stupid and only out for themselves that it's happening anyway.

Edit: Can't believe I have to add this, but zionists and neo-nazis get the fuck out of here. Please choke to death, actually.

[ozzgin]

Ozz, we're about to be left without TikTok. Pls do something ;-;

I don't think you have to worry about that anymore, anon. Let me offer you an alternative, though, just in case. :) content: gender neutral reader, good ol' human kink trope

You eyed the name suspiciously, index finger hovering above the screen. You'd never seen this kind of writing before. Some sort of foreign language? Why was this in your recommendations, even? With a shrug, you gleefully ignored the eldritch runes and downloaded the cursed app, much too curious to ignore it.

Somehow, perhaps through some fateful glitch of the Universe or your own exceptional clumsiness, you'd accidentally stumbled upon a social media platform belonging to the Monster Realm.

At first, you wondered if this was some bizarre fetish website, or a community you weren't aware of: all videos, without exception, featured monstrous creatures and abstract aberrations. Tails, horns, hundreds of eyes, tentacles, fangs the size of your head. Above everything else, the quality of these costumes was phenomenal, as realistic as it could get.

With mild hesitation, you decided to post your own introductory video, humorously calling yourself a lost wanderer. The few comments you received were of utter confusion; what creature were you supposed to be? Was this some sort of disguise?

You assumed the members were appalled by your lack of participation, so you replied to one of the baffled viewers with a proper explanation and apology. You weren't into this kind of cosplay - just an average human, really - so you hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

That's all it took. The next day, you nearly dropped your phone from the shock of seeing tens of thousands of followers, comments, direct messages, requests. You scrolled helplessly, staring at the never-ending stream of notifications. "Wait, is this actually a human?", "Can you post more videos of yourself", "Do you take tips", "Would you be interested in being interviewed by us", and the suggestions and pleads kept going.

Even worse, you watched in terror as hundreds of videos discussed your arrival. Monsters trying to track you down, hoping to meet you in person, others proudly declaring they'd soon make you their mate.

Was it too late to log off and pretend it never happened?

Your ears perched up at the sound of scratches against your entrance door, and you prayed you hadn't been found by one of the blasphemies already.

[lamtfluff]

A few years ago I had a phase of being REALLY into digital privacy, using tor, duckduckgo, etc before suffering some burnout because I was trying to be 100% secure. So I'm by no means a expert I'm just relaying experience.

The culture of a lot of left leaning and "fandommy" sites (tumblr, twitter, etc) tends to fear/dislike (or just not know about) a lot of the IT stuff used by people into online privacy because they asscoiate it with "techbros". ESPECIALLY anything even remotely involving cryptocurrency. But if Trump is going to start censoring things and making morning after pills harder to get now might be a VERY good time for Americans to get into online privacy and how to avoid being tracked as well as avoiding censorship. Perhaps even some crypto to buy things discretly (or perhaps if ICE agents start caring about cash?) and because many activists groups also take donations in crypto. Never dealt with crypto myself but from what I know Monero was designed to be more untracable than Bitcoin. Don't know how succesfull that is though. Definetly get into privacy in general though.

I'll leave some useful links to get started. Words of advice:

Don't install a fuckton of privacy extensions on your browser, your unique combination of extensions will give your browser a unique fingerprint. Instead read up on and pick a few commonly used ones.

The BIGGEST annoyance for me was acedemic/proffesional settings because noone wants to switch over to some software they never heard off for one group project. Personally I use some normie software for exclusivly proffesional purposes with NO other information on me and do my actual browsing/leisure computer use more privatly.

https://www.privacytools.io/os: General software/browser/etc recomendations.

https://coveryourtracks.eff.org/: Test how private your browser is.

https://www.torproject.org/: THE gold standard for privacy focused browsers. Also obscures ip. Might not always be practical. Has the disadvantage of being notoriously slow and is blocked by some services/websites to avoid people bypassing ip bans and whatnot. Probably don't use this as your everyday browser but if you ever need to look up anything without censorship use tor.

https://tails.net/: Install a portable mini operating system on a usb stick to browse privately from any computer.

https://www.eff.org/ Electronic frontier foundations website.

https://mastodon.social/explore Don't have experience with it myself. But open source social media that should be much harder to censor.

Tumblr probably won't like me talking too directly about this because of ties to piracy but for people interested in banned books https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadow_library should be an interesting read...

[eroticnekoisa]

Beginner Yoga Class

M!Reader x Aespa Karina

Around 2,750 words

tags: sex, blowjob, titfuck, cumshot, reader has big dick, little bit of fluff, my first smut so don't judge me too harshly please

Recently, you decided to commit to a healthier lifestyle and to try new things. So you thought "Why not do both at once?" and began pondering what kind of activities you could do.

After pondering and searching for a few days, you ultimately decided to sign up for a yoga class. You haven't tried yoga before, plus, it would bring both the healthier lifestyle and new experience you desired. So why not?

When looking at the class options, you found a 1:1 class. Considering you have never done yoga before, you find it more appealing to be alone with the teacher. More focus on you and fewer people around to notice your mistakes, also leading to much less embarrassment from your cluelessness on the subject.

Just you and the teacher. No one else around.

You happily sign up and wait for the days to pass.

Entering the building, you instantly notice the atmosphere change. You proceed as you normally would, the receptionist greeting you before guiding you to your destination, it seems her nametag displays the name "Minjeong". As you enter the room, the receptionist let's you know that you can take one of the candies on her counter when you leave, as she returns to her place. How nice of her!

The kind receptionist shuts the door for you. You notice a dark haired woman standing next to a chair on the opposite side of the room, she appears to be fixing her hair in one of the mirrors on the wall. She doesn't seem to notice you. You approach her and greet her.

"Hello?"

startled by your voice, she quickly turns. "Oh! You're here for the class? You're early." Until now, you didn't notice that you are actually about 10 minutes early. I guess you didn't check the time.

"Sorry, I guess I didn't check the time."

"No, no. It's fine!" she says, "We can start early, just give me a minute. You can sit if you'd like" she offers with a kind smile on her face as she does something in the corner. You can't quite see what she's doing since her back is turned towards you.

You sat on the chair just as she suggested you do. You let her do what she's doing in peace, so you don't talk to her until she's ready. Your eyes wander around the room, eventually focusing on your yoga teacher. You admire her healthy looking hair, her pale skin…You begin to look at her clothing, wearing a fitted tank top, mildly baggy sweatpants, though not baggy enough to hide the curves of her hips and shape of her round ass.

You aren't looking at her with lust, just learning her features. Right? Your eyes seemed to have stopped caring about the room once you saw her ass. She turns around and smiles at you, raising one finger to tell you that she will only be one more minute! You quickly look at her face, hoping she didn't notice you staring at her ass.

She didn't notice anything when looking back at you. However, you did notice something. You noticed her large breasts held by her tank top. You couldn't help it, your thoughts were beginning to go exactly where they shouldn't. You began to think about what her body looks like underneath her clothes, how soft her skin would be, you even wondered what her pussy looks like for a few brief seconds. How dirty of you.

Your thoughts turned you on so much you could practically feel the blood rushing downward, you feel your cock getting harder, bigger, thicker. It's such a bad time to be turned on. You remain sitting in the chair (almost) successfully hiding the bulge in your pants.

"Okay. Can you move the chair now?" Karina says, with her back still turned toward you.

"Fuck." you thought. Just as you stand up, Karina turns around and drops a pen and her phone.

She gasps from seeing her phone separate from its case, she instantly bends over to pick up the items she dropped.

You can now see directly down her top, getting an almost complete view of her large, soft, breasts. Moving slightly as she moves her arms to gather the items she dropped.

Now standing up, you feel your cock firmly pressing against your pants. You can't possibly hide it now, especially considering your size. You hear Karina talking, but you don't seem to be listening. You just continue staring at her big tits, with endless sexual thoughts racing through your mind.

Smiling, Karina quickly stands up to finally get started with the class. She was excited to teach someone new.

"I'm sorry, I'm clumsy!" she says with a laugh, while looking at your face.

Just as you try to gain composure and act natural, she looks down at the chair beside you, but something else caught her attention.

"I really think I-I-" her jaw drops for a few seconds as she stares at the large bulge in your pants before realizing what she was doing, looking up to speak to you. "U-um-heh. Um. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

You turn your back to her, apologizing out of embarrassment. Though her directly looking at it turned you on even more.

"No, I'm sorry. Give me a minute, it's just-"

She interrupts you, saying "It's fine! It's totally fine!" trying to silence her awkward giggle. Now her thoughts were racing.

Awkward silence fills the room for what feels like forever. Karina looking at the floor, trying not to make you feel embarrassed. You don't notice, but she occasionally glances at you in the mirror, trying to get another look at your big cock print.

You hear her walking towards you, you feel a hand on your back and another hand on the side of your arm. She breaks the silence with her pretty voice and says,

"Can…….Can I see it..again?"

You feel so shocked to hear these words come from her mouth, you instantly turn around to look at her. Accidentally giving her exactly what she asked for. "What?!" you exclaim.

The second you face her, she looks directly at the bulge in your pants and covers her mouth in awe. Her eyes focusing on your cock made it twitch, bringing a very sexy looking smile to her face as she bites her lip.

She gets very close, putting one hand on your chest and the fingers of her other hand on the band of your sweatpants. Her face inches away from your own, her tits touching your chest as she leans in. She whispers,

"I want to see more. I….want..I want to touch it…"

You are completely lost and overwhelmed by the situation, you didn't believe it was actually happening. Karina was shy, but she was also very, very horny in this moment. She looked into your eyes, biting her lip even harder as she started gently tugging your pants downward.

You nod to give her permission. She smiles and puts both of her hands on your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear.

Your cock finally released, springing upwards. You feel your heart beating hard, just like your cock that Karina is staring at. She stares with a look of yearning on her face.

She slowly and gently grips the center of your cock with her small, soft, hand. The sight and feel of your cock turned her on so much, she couldn't stop there. She needed to stroke it, suck it, feel it deep inside her.

"Oh my god…it's so….big.." she said slowly, feeling how hard you are, she playfully asks "What got you so excited? Huh?" still holding your cock.

You smile and chuckle, not knowing what to say. She seems to have an idea, but she still wanted to tease you.

She begins stroking your cock, slowly pulling your foreskin back and forward, back and forward. The expression displayed on her gorgeous face clearly shows how aroused she is. It feels so good, you start to breath heavier. She likes the sound of that.

She lets go of your cock and with a devious look on her face, asks "Do you want to sit in the chair now?" hoping you understood what she was hinting at. You understood, but were in disbelief. You sat down in the chair, bringing her much joy.

She gets on her knees in front of you, putting her hands on each of your thighs. You don't believe what's happening, but that's okay. She doesn't mind.

You see Karina staring at your big, hard cock sticking straight up towards the ceiling. Now only inches away from her small, delicate face.

She grabs your cock, pressing it against her face and feeling how hard she made you. You both love the fact that your cock looks huge on her face, making both of you even hornier.

You feel her breath on your cock as she exhales with a soft moan, "Ahhh~"

She holds your cock still as she gives the tip a deep kiss, wetting her lips with your precum before she begins to open her mouth wide to take your sensitive tip in her mouth. You feel her wet, glossy lips sliding down your cock as it glides across her tongue.

You moan as she sucks and licks your cock, feeling her fingers start caressing and massaging your balls. She takes your cock deeper and deeper into her warm, wet mouth, sucking harder and harder. Feeling her saliva mixing with your precum, running down your cock from her lips. She tries to take it deep into her throat, but she can only handle the head entering her throat before she needs to stop.

She lifts her head up, looking at you while breathing heavily. Her lips and chin wet with your fluids. You feel frustrated, since you were right at the edge before she stopped all stimulation. But that's only because you didn't know what else she was planning in that pretty little head of hers.

Still on her knees, she smiles and slides her hands up your shirt, feeling your chest and stomach, brushing your nipples with her soft fingers. "How did my mouth feel?"

"Amazing…I can't believe this. We shouldn't-" you respond as she denies your logic.

"Shhh~ Babyy~" she says, "We have plenty of time, relax~" as she briefly stands up to give you a kiss before returning to her knees.

"I know what you want…" she teases as she removes her top, exposing her black bra. "Right?"

You respond with a "Yes…." and hear a cute yet sexy chuckle. She removes her bra, fully displaying her big, gorgeous tits you were peeping at earlier. Her nipples hard with excitement, as she caresses and softly squeezes her tits for you. Biting her lip at the pleasure and the sight of you.

She moans softly as she pinches her nipples, "And what about this?~"

She moves closer to you again, this time positioning your cock between her tits, pushing them together. She loves the feeling of her large tits surrounding your big cock, sliding up and down, making her swear.

"Fuck….is this what you wanted?" she asks, as if she wasn't the one to take your pants off.

"God…you're so pretty. It feels so good" you couldn't get any harder, the contrast of your hard cock and her soft tits turned you on even more.

Again, as you begin to feel like you'll cum any second, she stops touching you and stands up. Your cock begging for more as she ignores it, moving her body closer to your face. She puts her arms around your head, putting her beautiful tits in your face.

You begin to feel her breasts with your hands, squeezing, kneading, rubbing. She breathes in and out softly, yet heavily. She feels you begin to lick and suck on her sensitive nipples, bringing an involuntary moan out of her.

She continues to make lovely sounds as you play with her perfect tits, before putting her hand on your head and saying the following words

"St-stop….okay.."

You stop, thinking she has had enough and your luck ran out. She takes a moment before speaking again, as if her shyness returned.

"I need….I need more.."

She removes her pants completely, revealing her black panties.

"Please…….stand up.."

She couldn't take it anymore, she needed you to fuck her. She needed to feel your cock inside her pussy. She's been thinking about it since she first saw you.

You stand up as she removes her panties, you can't help but stare when you finally see her shaved pussy. It was a beautiful sight, even more beautiful than you imagined. You take a look at her panties that now lie on the floor, noticing the inside completely soaked with her fluids.

"Come on…" shyly encouraging you as she gets on the chair, her knees on the seat and her arms resting on the back. Bending over, giving you a complete view of her ass and pussy. She was so turned on, even her inner thighs were wet. It was a heavenly sight. The chair was positioned in a way that you can both see each other's faces in the mirrors on the wall.

You rest your cock on her ass and lower back, caressing her upper back with your hands, moving down to her waist as she watches in the mirror. Moving her hips back, pressing her ass onto you, she says "Please.."

Now that she was the desperately horny one, you decide to tease her. "Please what? What do you want?"

"I want it…"

"You want what? I want you to say it"

She looks at you from behind her shoulder, saying exactly what was on her mind "I want you to fuck me with your big, sexy cock. I need to feel your cock deep in my pussy. Please, please, fuck.."

You feel a wave of extreme desire flow through your body, hearing her speak those words. You have no choice but to give her exactly what she wants, after all, it's exactly what you want too.

As you prepare to penetrate her, you see her fingers already rubbing her clit, making her breath shaky. She couldn't resist, and now you can't resist either.

You slowly penetrate her warm, tight, wet pussy, it feels heavenly. Karina moans loudly as your cock travels deeper inside her, stretching her pussy. Her tits moving as you speed up, hitting her hips with your own, her ass jiggling subtly.

"It feels…fuck…so good.." she says between her moans and whimpers, rubbing her clit faster, causing her to arch her back.

"Harder….please!"

You give in and fuck her tight pussy even harder. You feel it squeezing your cock, she's in complete ecstasy. She physically cannot stop making noises.

"I'm so close…fuck. I'm-I'm gonna-ah!" she says loudly, before her legs begin to shake. Hearing those words brought you close once again. However, you were in control this time. You start fucking her faster, preparing to cum, just as you hear Karina loudly exclaim..

"I'M CUMMING"

She breathes heavily, moaning and shaking. You her pussy tightening and contracting around your cock, with her juices flowing out of her. You feel your orgasm approaching, it feels unbelievable.

As Karina watches in the mirror, you almost fail pull out of her perfect pussy as you cum, shooting large, thick ropes of cum on her ass and lower back. She softly moans, as she feels your hot cum covering her.

You both take a moment of silence to catch your breath, before you speak.

"That was…..insane."

Her shyness returns, she answers in a nod, hiding her face "Mmhmm.."

You grab towels to clean her up, and gather your clothes. Wondering about the actual yoga class, you ask her "Can I….still come again for yoga?"

Getting dressed, she answers with a giggle "Yes, next week."

"This was the weirdest class I've ever done, but…."

"…Yeah?" you ask, curious about what she was going to say.

"Um…nothing. It's time for you to leave, class is over!"

She awkwardly chases you back into the lobby, shutting the door. The receptionist glances at you as you walk by, her face very red. She asks,

"Is…uh….everything okay?", with a weird expression on her face.

A little embarrassed, you respond "Yeah, it went great!"

You don't stop walking to save yourself from the awkward and confusing situation that remained in the building. You proceed to travel home, realizing that you did not take the free candy offered by the kind, blonde receptionist.

Thank you for reading if you made it this far~

[erwinsvow]

you'd never really put this much effort in at other houses. while you're scrubbing the countertops to remove every last bit of evidence that someone—anyone—had made a mess there, you think about the other houses you used to babysit for.

used to, since there was no need to babysit anymore. mister cameron, who will always remain mister cameron—no matter how much he reminds you to call him rafe—actually pays you double what your other families did. he's a busy guy. you know this for a fact—single dad and some big business guy that people in town used to talk about all the time when you used to listen—so he'd have last minute emergencies and random business calls all the time.

his exact words had been something along the lines of "don't wanna share you with anyone else," but even thinking about that encounter makes your face burn with so much intensity that you think you're going to collapse. that's not what he meant, obviously, he was trying to tell you in nicer words that it was annoying when you replied to his texts explaining how another family had booked you already for that night. so when he upped your rate and said that he'd even pay to say no to others, just in case, you would have been really stupid to say no.

you don't hear much about him anymore, when you're out and about. you spend so much time at the cameron house that your own little apartment seems like nothing more than a bed and a place to get ready before leaving. you practically eat three meals a day with the baby, so even your grocery shopping is in that part of town—all organic, expensive places where you talk to the baby and try to get her opinion on which vegetable puree she'd like to try this week.

it's kind of like playing pretend. no, it's really like playing pretend. you used to dress in the normal, comfortable clothes that were sufficient for babysitting every other family—overalls and sneakers—but now you don't fit in unless you're in a pretty dress and nice sandals. you stay in one outfit from when you show up before mister cameron leaves to when you drive home at the end of the night.

that's the other thing—your car. you've made it work with the same one since you could first drive. it's a little rusty, a little dinged up, but safe as can be. it's nothing fancy but it got you around. but now you do other things for rafe that you never did for other families—grocery shopping and errands and the occasional doctor's appointment if rafe really, really can't make it. you don't mind at all—it's fun to play pretend and you love her like she's your own, but mister cameron tries to make it to every appointment himself, because he really cares about his daughter. it's admirable because you don't see it in every single household.

you hadn't thought there was anything wrong with your car until one day you couldn't get the air conditioning to work, and the back window got jammed and the baby looked so uncomfortable that you had to skip out on whatever you were supposed to do that day. when mister cameron came home that night you apologized so much that you started crying—because really, you never thought there was something wrong with your car and you didn't want to make the baby drive in the heat, just in case. you think he'll be mad, there's no groceries and his suit is still at the cleaner's, and the lotion that you use every night after bathtime has ran out and there'll be none for tomorrow—but he's not.

he's not mad at all. he seems... tired. he seems worried. the first thing he asks that night is if you and the baby are okay. when you nod, afraid that this is the calm before the storm, he sighs.

"good. that's all i care about," and the way he says it—you believe him right away. maybe that's the night your little crush on mister cameron started forming. it'd always been there in the background, you'd be an idiot of massive proportions to deny it. but it felt different somehow, watching him roll up his sleeves and pulling out whatever ingredients there were left over to make dinner with, something that you normally tried to have done every night for him, while telling you to take a seat.

that night he asks about your car—how old is it, when'd you get it, how many miles. do you like the model? would you want bigger, smaller, a different color? it's just conversation—he probably likes cars with the way there's a really nice in the garage under a sheet and a nice but safer one that he takes to work everyday.

(while he's cooking pasta and cutting vegetables, you try to get up and help, but he meets your eyes and shakes his head. wordlessly, you obey and sit back down.)

that's the first night things felt different. you drove home a little giddy, later than normal, stomach full and heart a little too happy that you found it in yourself to finally have a real, nice conversation with mister cameron. you're as shy as they come but your interactions with him are limited—before work, a phone call at lunch (though recently, his first question hasn't been about the baby... it's been how are my girls?), and after work before you leave.

it feels good to know that you're doing something right, that you're good at this even on your bad days. you make a point to leave your place extra early that week, stopping at the pharmacy and picking up the lotion so it's one less thing to worry about. your window still won't roll down and you'll have to figure out how to get the groceries delivered, crossing your fingers that it doesn't cost that much more.

you show up a couple minutes early and go inside to sort out the stuff for the baby before she wakes, when you find mister cameron in the nursery.

"good morning," you say quietly, though it comes out a little above a whisper. she's still sleeping, even though you haven't glanced in the crib, you know her schedule like the back of your hand.

"hey, kid," he says, and your heart starts to thud a little faster. mister cameron's nicknames for you don't make an appearance everyday but for some reason, it has today. he hovers over the crib, watching the baby's chest rise and fall with each breath. you go over to join him, placing the lotion on the dresser. he notices the bottle and turns back to you. "you didn't have to do that."

"she needs it," you reply quietly. "it's the only one she likes. and i was up early anyways."

"thank you." it comes out with such sincerity that you're a little taken aback.

"of course, mister cameron. it's nothing," you smile up at him. he glances back at you, smiling and then turning to his daughter again. "i'm gonna go start on her breakfast."

you make your way to the door when he says your name.

"there's keys on the kitchen counter, and the car's in the garage. i'd like it if you started using that car instead."

and really—how are you supposed to respond to that? you stammer out an 'of course, mister cameron' and go downstairs, crossing your fingers that he made a mistake, or that he wants you to drive his car until you fix yours and he'll take the nice one tucked away in the garage.

but when you make it to the counter, and then head to the garage, your eyes nearly fall out of your head. a brand new pair of car keys, to match the brand new car in the garage. your arguments fall on deaf ears—this is way too much for anyone. yes, you're pretty much throwing money away by still paying rent and the cost of getting your car fixed could probably be enough to start paying for a better one, but this is too much. way too much. it's not normal. right?

but you have no one to ask. the baby's not old enough for playdates, and the girls who replaced you at your old houses are pretty much all high school seniors. on mister cameron's side of town, there's only nannies and au pairs, and they'd probably think you're crazy for turning down such a nice gesture.

and it is a nice gesture. mister cameron listens to every word you say, even when you're not paying attention to your own sentence. the car is exactly how you described—the color you wanted, the size you said would be nice one day incase there's ever a playdate or another baby or whatever the case may be. it's shiny and brand-new and completely undeserving of you. but he doesn't listen.

somewhere along the next month, you realize you could get really used to this. mister cameron does have a point—you're taking care of his daughter every day, so it only makes sense to make sure she's as safe as can be. you make a mental note that if you ever—for whatever idiotic reason—choose to leave this perfect job, you'll make sure he gets the car back.

there comes a point where the relationship... makes its way to the next level. at the end of every week, you have to settle the bills. co-pays at appointments, grocery receipts, the invoice from the gardener that didn't go through so you had given him your own cash so mister cameron wouldn't have to deal with it from work. it adds up, so once the baby is asleep on saturday night, the two of you eat dinner and go through everything.

but this time, he hands you a card instead. a shiny black credit card that spells out his name on the back.

"makes it a bit easier, right? just use this instead. we won't have to settle every week anymore."

"right," you agree, your smile fading quickly. you try to put on a front, a false expression so he doesn't notice your disappointment. saturday nights with mister cameron—him with his beer and you with a glass of wine—once the baby is asleep, sorting out bills and making conversation that almost felt like you belonged here, had unknowingly become your favorite part of the week. sometimes it would go until midnight, talking about things that were neither here nor there.

it's how you learned why he's a single dad, what he does for work, how he feels about his job and how much time it takes away from his daughter. it's why you started sending him photo and video updates everyday so he wouldn't feel like he's missing out on as much, it's why you make sure to craft the baby's bedtime routine around him coming home, so they have their time together.

"somethin' wrong?" he asks, after taking another sip of beer. you're snapped out of your thoughts, focusing instead of how rafe looks today. tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, fingers curled around the beer bottle.

you don't know how any woman on earth could have walked away from this.

"n-nothing. no. thank you, mister cameron, this is great. i'll make sure-"

"it's rafe from now on—remember, kid?"

"yes. sorry, i-"

you couldn't get out of there fast enough that night. it's almost a subtle reminder from the universe—you're not part of that family. you're the nanny who got too attached, who pretended that she fit in too much to a family that's not hers.

you still wear your nicer clothes, you still drive around his nice car. but you try to remind yourself every now and then that this isn't your real life.

the next day, it's like the universe has decided that it's mad at you for coming to this conclusion.

pouring rain the second you get into the car. your raincoat and umbrella and a sensible pair of shoes remain inside your apartment, and if you sit in idle any longer, you're going to be late to mister cameron's. he'll want to leave early since it's raining, so he's probably expecting you any minute.

the roads are a mess—it's monsooning for no reason and people forget how to drive. you honk no less than three times at idiots on the road before getting scared that someone will road-rage you. when you pull into the garage—because yes, mister cameron insists that you park inside and that he can park outside— you're frazzled and sweating and your day hasn't even started yet.

rafe's almost ready to leave, which is another damper on an already bad morning—if he has time, the two of you eat breakfast together. you tell him to drive safe and apologize for being late when he rushes past you, leaning in to kiss your cheek and telling you that he might he home late today, and to have a good day. you don't realize what's happened until he's gone, the door closing behind him.

you stand in the foyer with your mouth open until you hear the baby monitor. from that point on—it's one thing after another. the baby is fussy today, which is the most unusual part of the day. she's never like this, and you conclude that she must be getting sick or something. it's just as well, because there's no reason to go out or to take her out in this weather. she cries, and you try to help, even cave and put on some episodes of little bear to see if something would distract her. but the poor thing just doesn't feel good, and has no way to tell you how.

the hours fly by, and your head even hurts a little from the crying and the overthinking about the kiss from this morning. in all the rush, you eat about two bites of lunch before the baby needs something else.

and then at the end of the day, right around when rafe should be coming home, he doesn't.

you feed the baby and rock her to sleep. she fusses ten minutes later, and spits up all over you and your hair, and then knocks out. you even spend twenty minutes hovering over the monitor, making sure she's okay while drying your hair. rafe's still not home, so you get dinner ready and warmed for him, eating yours alone in the silence. and as if you could handle another thing, you spill sauce all over your dress while trying to put away the leftovers.

you were going to wait until you were back home, safe in your tiny apartment to cry and shower and scrub your skin raw from the day you've had, but it can't wait any longer. you take the monitor into the bathroom with you at full volume, and decide to shower in the bathroom closest to the baby's room just to be safe.

it's not until you're naked, wrapped in a soft towel and waiting for the water to get scalding hot, racking your brain for the location of the extra clothes you had once brought here that you realize the shower closest to the baby's room is the shower in rafe's bedroom.

you haven't been in here before—looking around at the expensive cologne on the counter and the dark blue towels and the hamper full of yesterday's dress shirt. it's not a good idea to be in here, but you need to shower and you can't wait another minute. for all you know, mister cameron could come home in another two hours. your dress is spinning in the washer—and your plan is set. throw it in the dryer, find something to wear for the next fifty minutes, and leave as soon as he's home even though you can hear the raindrops on the roof and the thunder outside.

the shower is what you have been needing all day. you wish you had your body wash and shampoo, but his aren't too bad. you inhale deeply, realizing you're submerging yourself in his scent. you could stay in there forever, but you don't—he's gonna be home any minute or the baby could start crying, and you need to go home.

but he smells so good. you've noticed it before, it just feels amplified now. the towel you wrap yourself in is his, meaning he's dried himself with it before. all the clothes smell like his cologne, and the house is a little cold and your clothes are still washing, and though it's probably the worst idea you've ever had, when you get out of the shower, you head to his dresser and pull out the first clean t-shirt you can find.

it's big on you, you knew it would be. it's soft and warm and smells undeniably like mister cameron. you're completely clueless, exhausted because the baby barely napped and you barely got any sleep yourself, and it's way past your own bedtime right now. he might not even come home, you think, with how the storm sounds. you check your phone but there's no messages, just a flood warning.

yesterday's socks and underwear are still spinning in the machine—how long does this thing take? what setting had you put it on?—and you begrudgingly leave rafe's warm bedroom with the baby monitor in one hand, and his navy blue towel in the other, drying your hair. you turn on the television, watching whatever's on while you pat your strands dry, bending over to wrap your hair into the towel so you can sit for a couple minutes, when you hear the door open.

you snap back up, looking at rafe's face stare back at you—he's drenched, hair wet and suit dripping, wiping his forehead with his hand when he looks you up and down. oh god, you don't even know what he just saw, you were bent over and-

"is that my shirt?"

[shouyuus]

Hiii, I’m the person screaming crying throwing up every time you post, love ur stuff!

Anyway… I’m thinking mechanic!vi prolonging the time it takes her to fix your car just cause she wants you coming around the shop more and then when she does eventually fix it she kinda worries you’re not gonna stay over at hers as often but u decide to ask her if u can move in or smth like this?!?

Idek tbh my brain is so fried from over consuming Vi content

all you have to do is stay

mentions of sex, but no explicit scenes, car mechanic!vi au oh she absolutely would; there's actually so much stupid domestic bliss in this wow

and sure, the hookup was good in the beginning, but she liked it when you came around, liked it when you'd show up at her shop, all shy and wide-eyed, asking her if you could watch, and who's she to turn down such a pretty girl, right? and honestly, she thought it was kinda cute, how you'd try your best to ask her about this or that, and she'd find herself rambling about her favorite kinds of pinon brackets, or talking you through a chassis restoration for another vintage car that was brought in.

it shouldn't take a whole-ass month to rig a crossflow radiator, especially since the rest of your car's actually in pretty good condition, but she keeps on picking out other things to do, insisting that she's already here anyway, sliding out from under the car with a crooked grin, asking you to pass her another cold beer.

but there's only so many things she can make up before it's obvious, even to you that there's not much else to do. so when the day comes, she's quieter than usual, tallying up the extensive list of repairs that she's both done and made up for herself to do (you'd insisted that you at least pay for the major ones, and if the smaller ones came with a dinner-date and dessert in bed afterwards... well.)

"and... i think that's all of it, sweets."

she hands you the receipt, immediately tucking her hands into the pockets of her light-wash jeans. her shoulders shrug up as you look down the list. it's way less than that she should be charging you for, but you peer up at her, frowning at the pinch between her brows and the tension clear in her muscles.

"vi? what's... wrong?"

"ah -- it's nothin' sweets, don't worry your pretty little head over it."

she teeters forwards and back, as if she can't decide if she wants to move closer or back away. but you're already reaching for her, closing the distance between you with your head cocked, your eyes bright and questioning. and she could never resist it when you looked at her like that, so toe-curlingly trusting. as if there wasn't a thing in the world she could do or say to drive you away or upset you.

sometimes, she'd lay awake and wonder if you knew how dangerous that kind of trust is -- how someone less scrupulous would take it and twist it into something foul. but she'd never let that happen -- at least not while you wanted her around.

"violet... we might not have known each other for very long but... you're not a very good liar," you say, reaching up to cup her cheeks, coaxing her eyes back to yours. she laughs -- it's a tiny, helpless sound; it shakes her open in a way that startles even her, the way her whole body wants to fold over you, into you.

"geez, sweets... that's... that's not really fair of you."

she lifts her hand to press them over yours, hands over hands, petaled around her cheeks, and it occurs to her that perhaps this is what it means to live up to her namesake -- violet. you'd said it was a beautiful name the first the she told you what vi stood for.

"you're not really fair either, vi... but that's never stopped you, has it?" you ask, a mischievous glint in your eyes, your lips twisted up on a fox-hole smile.

vi sucks in a breath. something feels like it's clawing up the length of her ribcage and burrowing through the hollows in her chest till she can taste it pitter-pattering at the back of her throat. it takes her a full three seconds to realize that it's her own traitorous heart, beating so strong she can taste it on her tongue.

"fuck."

and then she's kissing you, pulling you to her, fingers harsh and desperate, her touch lingering like month-old grease-stains the way they dig into your delicate skin. you gasp open for her, against her -- you let her tug you into her till there isn't a part of you she can't reach if she wanted to.

the kiss breaks like a dam bursting open, and a few seconds later, she's got you hoisted up on her workbench, wrenches and old receipts scattering to the floor as she slots herself easily between your legs. it's a familiar place to be, after all -- after all this time.

you hiss, fingers fisting in her hair; it's longer now, than when you first met. and she'd be lying if she said her letting it grow had nothing to do with your offhand comment once (over yet another impossible banana sundae) that you liked it long.

"vi -- vi -- please -- you --"

"hm? what is it, pretty girl?"

"you c-can't just try to distract me w-with sex every time --"

and she can't help the grin that hitches over her lips at the way your chest is heaving, your eyes blown dark, the way your thighs shake on either side of her hips. but she can see the flicker of worry in your eyes and her stomach twists with uncertainty.

"i -- i don't --" she tries, but a breath puffs out of her and she sags against you, "it's... just... now that the repairs are done... there's not really much reason for you to come around... and..."

at her words, you heave a sigh that seems much too big and weary for your body, pulling back to fix her with a surprisingly sharp look.

"you really thought i was coming around here to listen to you talk about my car repairs?"

vi does her level best not to pout; hearing you say it out loud, it does sound... a bit childish. instead, she leans forward and digs her nose into your neck, wrapping both arms around you till she's got you cocooned in her chest.

"what? you weren't interested in the new pressure washer i got just so i could get that really stubborn stain off your back bumper?"

you trail your fingers through her hair, letting your nails graze along her scalp. a shiver washes down the length of her back and you giggle close to her ear.

"sure i did... but you could talk about... dunno... your favorite dish rag, and i think i'd still wanna listen -- because i like listening to you talk about the stuff you like... because..." and its your turn to hesitate, her turn to pull back and fix you with a look -- one that's equal parts pleading and disbelieving.

"because what, pretty girl?" she asks, her voice low and husky, a thumb running across the round of your cheek.

"b-because i -- i like you, vi."

your eyes flicker away and color seeps into your cheeks like dye across clear water -- the shade blooming into you till vi's sure there's no color so beautiful as the one that you are now.

"mm... well, thank god for that cause..." she leans in to press her forehead to yours, "i was starting to wonder, what with all the multiple orgasms and midnight munch sessions and --" she laughs as you squawk indignantly at her, your eyes flashing wild and wide.

"t-that's not what i -- you know that's not --"

"oh? so you don't like those?" she asks, the tease now so obvious in her voice that you flush several shades darker. vi thinks she may have to amend her previous decision on her favorite shade of you. and you're outdoing yourself today.

she lets her free hand wander to the bend of your hips and she gives you a squeeze.

"i --" you steady yourself in the solidness of her, reaching down to lace your hands with hers, "of course i -- i like those things too but i -- i like that you're the one doing them to me and --" you swallow; vi tries not to be to distracted by the hummingbird flutter of your pulse as you struggle to find the words, even though both of you know full well by now exactly what you're trying to say --

sometimes, just sometimes, words speak just as loud as words need to. and the actions are just there to back them up.

sometimes, there are certain things that people just want to -- or need to -- hear said out loud.

"i -- i wanna come over even when there's nothing for you to fix... i..." you steady your breathing and vi nearly drowns in the certainty that settles between the pair of you, an ocean full of of unsaid words (the ones that don't need to be said to be understood), drifting like sunlight over shifting waves -- their brightness made no less real by their shimmering reflections in the water, "i guess i just... wanna be wherever you are. like... all the time."

vi's eyebrows hitch; her breath follows shortly after.

"all the time?"

you bite down on your lips, "yeah but... i know it's only been like... a month or whatever --"

"no, no god -- sweets, i -- i want that too -- more than anything -- it's just --" she motions at the shop, and you nod, catching her hand in yours mid-air.

"it doesn't have to be right now," you say, smiling and giving both her hands a firm squeeze.

"yeah?" she asks, a rare quiver to the shape of her voice.

you nod, "yeah." and your voice is just as solid as she needs it to be. you lean in to kiss her, and she sighs open against you, as you've done so many times for her.

"we'll -- we'll make it work," you say, in between harsh, nipping kisses, even as vi groans and trails her mouth along the line of your jaw. you gasp, letting your head tip back, "w-we'll t-take it s-s-slow -- mmngh -- vi!"

vi hums as she sucks a dark hickey into the side of your neck, feeling savage wanting plume open in her chest. she looks back up at you with darkening eyes and a hunter's smile.

"dunno if i know how to take it slow, sweets --"

"w-what about all those t-times you told me t-to wait --" you keen high in the back of your throat as she drops to pillow her cheek to your thigh, flipping up the bottom of your skirt to dig her nose into the damp triangle of your panties.

vi scoffs, rolling her eyes as she glances back up at you with a playful smirk.

"oh fuck you."

you lick your lips, reaching down to sink your fingers into her hair again, pulling just hard enough for the an ache to gather in her belly.

"thought that's what you were trying to do."

vi stands up, pulling you bodily forward till your ankles are linked at the small of her back, her palms holding up the plush of your ass as she walks the pair of you back into the house and up the thin flight of stairs to her room.

it's a good few hours before either of you are coherent enough to talk about any of this again, but by the time you are, the twilight is budding along the far horizon, and vander's texting to ask vi if he should pick anything up on the way back from the bar for dinner.

"you wanna stay for dinner?" vi asks, twisting to glance at you in bed, her face illuminated by the digital blue of her phone.

your pillow your cheek on your hand, "yeah, i'd love to."

"cool, what do you want?" she asks, her eyes turning back to her phone.

you lick your lips, "how about... you ask vander to pick up some tomatoes? i can make one of my grandma's old soup recipes. you have potatoes and cabbage right? and... i think i saw some pork bones in the freezer the last time i was here."

you cast your eyes up at the ceiling, ticking through a mental list of ingredients.

you only turn to shoot vi a glance when you realize that you can no longer hear the rapid pik-pik-pik of her fingers on her phone.

she's staring at you with what could only be called wonder in the halfway dark.

"you... remember what's in our fridge?"

"well i -- there's not much in there --" you say, almost indignantly.

she laughs, shaking her head, "no, it's just -- i didn't think you'd ever notice something like that, i mean, pardon me for thinking that you've never set foot in a kitchen in your entire life, what with you being daddy's little princess and all," she goads, nudging you with an elbow even as you squirm away from her, pouting.

"i'll have you know that i'm actually a really good cook, okay?" you tell her, "when -- when i was little, and my grandma lived with us, i'd help her in the kitchen all the time. and... after she got too old to make stuff... i was the one who cooked for her, because she said it tasted like stuff she'd eat in her childhood so..."

vi shuffles closer to you under the blankets, nuzzling her nose into your cheek.

"and just when i thought you couldn't get more perfect," she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you giggle, allowing yourself to be tugged back into her chest.

"i told vander to pick up tomatoes... and to invite silco and everyone else he can round up over for dinner."

you squeak, shooting up, "what?!"

vi grins, pushing up with a soft yawn, "you can't just tell me that you've got grandma-level cooking skills and not expect me to invite my whole entire family, right?"

you tumble out of bed, nearly tripping over your panties, still caught around your ankles. you pull them up, scrambling for one of vi's big shirts to toss over your body as she watches you from the bed with an indulgent smile before swinging her legs off and standing up to pull you back into her chest.

"calm down, sweets -- i'll help you, kay? now, tell me what you need."

you nod, pulling on a pair of her jogging shorts and twisting your hair into a haphazard bun out of your face as you start listing off ingredients, hopping the last two steps onto the first floor landing and fluttering into the kitchen.

by the time vi rounds the doorway, it's to find you with vander's massive apron already tied around your waist, an several pots and pans stacked on the countertop.

"i need three onions, and a head of garlic and... a few bay leaves, if you have them. it's okay if you don't --"

vi fights back a grin (it's a losing battle, she thinks, but it's one that she's considering losing for the rest of her goddamn life if it meant doing this every day with you).

"sure, sweets -- whatever you need."

you nod, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt as you set to work peeling the potatoes. a few second later, vi pops up from the fridge, frowning.

"looks like we've only got one onion, but i found some shallots... not sure how good they are though... they were kinda shoved into the back." she holds up the bag with a grimace.

you blink at her, and for a moment, vi thinks that you're going to be angry, or at least a bit frustrated. but then, your face breaks into a sweet, helpless sort of smile, and you reach out to take the shallots from her.

"it's okay," you say, in a voice that sounds just a little too much like coming home, and vi has to swallow passed the peach-pit suddenly caught in her throat.

your fingers brush against hers as you point her towards the half-peeled potatoes, and she gets to work without you even having to ask.

you lean up onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to her cheek, your eyes bright as fallen stars when she turns to look at you.

"it's okay," you repeat, smiling up at her with that smile that just might rhyme with forever, "we'll make it work, okay?"

vi licks her lips; there's an entire ocean of saltwater words caught behind the tombstones of her teeth that she does not know how to say. but she thinks, as she looks at you and you turn back to fussing over the one onion and handful of shallots, that you probably know it all anyway.

"okay," she says, before turning back to the diligent work of peeling the potatoes.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Run, Run, Run II

Leila Ouahabi x Reader

Summary: Your new life

Your feet pound on the concrete of the pavement, rain drip-dropping down your skin.

The rain of Manchester had been difficult to get used to when you originally moved, used to the sun of Spain and the warmth on your skin as you completed your morning run.

The rain wasn't something that you were surprised about but it was still something that you've had to get used to.

You've had to get used to a lot actually but one thing, for better or for worse has stayed that same.

Your damned attraction to female footballers older than you.

You'd been burned by Alexia. That was all you could think about those first few weeks. How every memory with her was stained with fire and flames and an overwhelming heat that made you lose your mind.

But she had cheated and you had promised yourself to never be like your mother - to never stay with someone that disrespected you like that.

Your father was a damned near perfect father. He took you to all of your track meets and he'd never missed a parent-teacher evening in his life. He bragged about you to his co-workers.

But he had never been a perfect husband, cheating on your mother multiple times but she had still stayed, happy in the relative normalcy she has with your father.

You'd promised to never be like her so the decision to leave Alexia and flee the country didn't take as much thought as you thought it would.

And now you're in rainy Manchester, drying off your hair with the handy towel that hangs up in the entrance hall for you to use exactly for these moments.

"You're back?"

You smile as you rub the towel over your hair.

"I said I would before you left me."

"Left you? I'm only going to camp."

You sigh dramatically, pressing the back of your palm to your still damp forehead. "And leaving me here, all alone! Locked in this prison!"

"You were the one that decided on this apartment? You said you liked the open plan arrangement? We have a balcony?"

You press a soft kiss to Leila's lips. "You knew I was only joking. But I will miss you when you're at camp."

"I'll miss you too. Are you sure you can't come to the match?"

You nibble on the inside of your cheek.

Your life with Leila was practically perfect in every way. She was so in tune with you and your needs. She knew when you needed a break from cooking dinner or doing the grocery shop. She knew exactly when you needed a little pick me up like flowers or chocolates or even a long cuddle session in bed.

Everything was perfect but you just can't bring yourself to go back to Spain in that way, to put yourself in a situation where you'll be so close to Alexia again, the woman that you had once thought would be your wife some day.

"Baby..." You say, looking up at Leila," You know I wouldn't put you in that situation. Alexia...I don't want her to try to ostracise you from the team."

Leila sighs. "She's never done such a thing. Even...Even during...you know..."

"I know but it might be different. I mean...with me and her, it was...I don't know. I don't want you be at risk."

"I understand," Leila says, forehead pressed against your own," But if you did want to come, I've got a ticket reserved for you, alright?"

"I'll...I'll think about it. I promise."

Leila thinks about it too, all throughout camp. It circles through her mind like a dog with a bone. She wakes up thinking about. She goes to sleep thinking about it.

You've watched plenty of her matches at City, where you've become a favourite of the fans without even meaning to. You're a constant presence in the stands with a cup of whatever warm drink you poured yourself before leaving the house.

She's lost count of how many of her Panini stickers you've signed for fans before coming down onto the pitch to greet her.

But you've never come to one of her matches for Spain, not with Alexia on the team, the ever lurking looming presence of your relationship.

Leila's never really seen her captain in the same way since. She's a good captain, an amazing player but Leila's learnt how to separate those aspects of Alexia to the one that she knows you experienced, the one that had tried to manipulate you into staying in a relationship, the one that had tried to promise you everything to stay with her even after cheating.

Leila can separate the Alexia on the pitch to the one off of it but she knows that is something you can't do.

The Alexia on the pitch and off the pitch has always been the same Alexia to you. There is no separation of who she is and Leila can accept your decision to stay away for that reason.

But it still doesn't stop her from wishing you would come to see her play.

The option is open for you but Leila would never hold it against you if you decided not to.

There were plenty of other games for you to go to.

"So..." Codi wheedles during breakfast before the match," Where's the girlfriend?"

Leila almost chokes over her cereal. "At home."

"She isn't coming?"

"She has the option if she wants. She's busy."

Codi rolls her eyes. "She's always busy during international break. She's got to come at some point."

Leila rolls her eyes. "She's her own person. I won't force her to do anything."

"You've got a new girlfriend?" Alexia asks, looking up from her phone.

Leila looks back down at her bowl, swirling the milk around with the back of her spoon. "I...Yeah, I do. She's great..."

She bites her tongue, swallowing back what she actually wants to say, all of the things she wants to spit at Alexia on your behalf.

But she doesn't.

Leila stays silent, swirling her cereal around as the conversation moves on.

The pass is perfectly weighted from her on the pitch a few hours later, speeding through the legs of opposition players for Alexia to slot neatly into the net.

The rush of an assist runs through Leila as she turns to look into the stands.

You're sitting there, amongst the cheering of the fans.

Leila had seen you earlier, a surprise in a hoodie to cover your hair but your girlfriend could just see the Spanish jersey poking out from under it.

She suddenly finds herself praying that it's hers.

She'd even take it being blank.

Because Leila knows Alexia noticed you earlier, had seen you when the big screen focused on the crowd during the warm ups. She had seen Alexia stare at you. She had seen the aborted movement Alexia made towards you, like she was about to abandon the warm ups to go up to you - sweetly saccharine tone at the ready to convince you to go back to her.

Leila hopes that if you do have a name on your shirt, it's not Alexia's.

[embervoices]

As much as I love this idea, the reason conspiracy theories are hard to debunk is that they're not structured in a disprovable manner. Any evidence to the contrary is treated as evidence of coverup. I agree that we do need shows like Mythbusters that encourage and teach critical thinking, but I suspect they would do well not to try to work on most conspiracy theories themselves due to the structural problems, but on the methods of thinking that point away from them to begin with.

People need to be taught to ask "What would it look like if this isn't true?" and then analyze that, and question the basis for their assumptions if they can't tell what the difference even would be.

There are PLENTY of such shows on YouTube, including ones that explain how vaccines actually work, etc. but they don't get promoted by the algorithm if you haven't shown interest in them. 😕

Plus there's the social factor that if you are surrounded by people who have bought into a belief system, you risk losing your support system if you push back. Humans have a very very strong instinct not to break their social support systems, and thus to talk ourselves into agreeing with whoever we perceive to be our community.

(SnopesTV could be interesting, though...)

I'm convinced Mythbusters needs a reboot. Misinformation or mythinformation if you will, is at an all time high. We NEED the show that promotes critical thinking to come back. It doesn't need the same cast, in fact I think it would be better with some fresh faces. Imagine all the good it would do if you could just show your crazy uncle the Mythbusters reboot episode that debunks his anti-vaxx conspiracy in an easily digestible and entertaining format.

[gyaruhana]

Can you do namgyu hatefuck headcanons?

Nam-Gyu/Player 124 - hatefuck headcannons

Synopsis: hate fucking with namgyu !!

A/N: I love him more and more everyday..

Warnings: smut content, hate sex, rough sex, degradation, spitting, anal sex, choking, hair pulling, face fucking, humiliation sex, dom AND sub namgyu :3

➠ hate sex with namgyu is so rough

➠ There's really a very slim chance you'll manage to dom him because he refuses to submit and will become violent !!

➠ He's so degrading honestly

➠ Constantly calls you a whore, a slut - basically every degrading name in the book

➠ there's like no time to process what's happening because he just walks up to you and slams you against the wall with a hand around your throat

➠ Sometimes, he doesn't bother with any prep and just makes you take his dick dry but other times he likes to tease you and edge you to make you cry

➠ On that note, really loves making you cry

➠ He will laugh at your face when you cry and mock you even more but it totally makes him so hard to see tears running down your face

➠ Those times where he chooses to edge you, don't expect to cum at all.

➠ he'll just shove his cock down your throat and fuck your face until he cums down your throat (and a little on your face too so he can call you a dirty slut)

➠ Then he'll walk away like that totally didn't happen and leave you on your own

➠ His number one joy in life (aside from drugs) is making you submit

➠ There's something about forcing you into submission and fucking you that makes him so unbelievably horny

➠ Do expect him to slap you actually

➠ For no reason at all too

➠ He'll just slap you (hard) and laugh when you cry about it

➠ Probably spits either into your mouth or on your face..

➠ He just likes watching the way your face contorts into disgust.

➠ If it's in your mouth, swallow it otherwise he will get even rougher

➠ probably into anal sex as crazy as that might sound

➠ Like I said, he likes seeing you submit and fucking your ass is such a good way to have control over you

➠ It also gives him wonderful access to your hair which he will pull at roughly!

➠ hear me out: sex in front of his friends

➠ I can just imagine him liking it so much when he humiliates you in front of his friends

➠ Like he'd totally fuck you on the bathroom floor and let Thanos watch

➠ Maybe he likes humiliating you a little too much..

➠ During games, he'll totally try throw you off by whispering something sexual to you

➠ He honestly could care less if you die because he hates you

➠ He only fucks you because it's funny for him..

➠ Overall, rough and mean dickhead when it comes to hate sex

"You fucking dirty slut," Nam-gyu speaks before letting out a slight laugh. Aside from getting high on drugs, fucking you like this might be his favorite thing in the world. Watching you cry as he stretches your tight hole around his dick does things to him he doesn't want to admit. Plus, you were a good stress reliever whenever the games had him worried or Thanos refused to give him a pill. Seeing your tears was basically a drug in itself and it made him grin so unbelievably wide. It was a joy to watch you cry out like this as he fucked his cock into you over and over. "Maybe I should fuck your ass next, huh? You'd probably like that despite the way you're bitchin' right now,"

➠ WAIT!! what if you got him to somehow submit..?

➠ He tries to act so unaffected when the tables are turned and you're fucking him but he's not very good at it

➠ Tries to be quiet but he can't stop all the sounds so there's a lot of muffled whines and maybe even a little bit of whimpering

➠ Will make a few rude comments in order to gain some sort of control but it doesn't work

➠ Do make him cum over and over again because he gets sensitive so fast

➠ honestly will start crying slightly at one point if he's too overstimulated.

➠ If you push him far enough he will beg you to stop with his eyes closed tight and tears running down his face

➠ I swear he can't handle it when you ride his cock

➠ no matter the pace you're going, it's always so much for him

➠ little pathetic mumbles of how it's too much for him

➠ he always acts like nothing happened afterward and continues to be an asshole as if he wasn't crying into the pillow just last night

➠ Overall, subby namgyu is highkey a sensitive crier

"Too- Too much! Fuck-" Nam-gyu cursed out as he threw his head back. You had been riding his cock for what felt like an eternity and he had already orgasmed three times into your tight hole. The way you were squeezing around him and continuously milking his cum out of him had him in tears. He was well aware he couldn't run from you considering you had him pinned down to the bed as you rode his dick so he just laid there and prayed you would have enough soon and leave his poor, sensitive cock alone. Otherwise, he might just pass out from the over whelming pleasure stinging his body. "ngh- god, it hurts- gentle.. please,"

[velvetvexations]

Chiming in on the whole "do tmascs/the transandrophobia community actually harass tfems on the scale that is claimed" thing, I've been wondering that for a while too, especially since back when [Popular Trans Blogger] was dealing with The Most Normal CEO Ever I saw literally EVERY SINGLE major voice in transandrophobia circles immediately drop everything, put aside all the harassment and hate they had faced, make it clear that trans people being harmed by cishet society comes before discussing deeper theory, and basically non-stop post about how she didn't deserve that and openly critique tumblr's transphobia and how it hurts tfems despite the fact that that user and her followers had been consistently vile to transmascs. Like they all jumped up to add their voices against the banning, it was so fucking clear they were able to prioritize protecting trans people no matter what, and no one ever really talks about it because they also don't gloat about putting the swords down for the greater good. It's just something they know needs to be done and they won't paint themselves as heroes or martyr for it.

On the other hand, I've never in my entire life seen a big TRF or anyone who travels in those circles ever stick their neck out when tmascs are experiencing harassment and transphobia, not once. Not even when it leads to the same unjust bans that tfems face(which do happen, at similar rates to tfem bloggers like the idea that the trans bans are a tfem only thing is simply not true). Like I've blogs that are constantly posting about how "if you never post anything about supporting trans women then you're probably a secret transmisognist" turn around and respond to people pointing out that they never post anything even vaguely supportive of tmascs(not even talking about discourse just the usual "trans men are valid and deserve support" positivity stuff that goes around) who are on their "side" by saying "um I'm a trans woman and this is my personal blog so I don't have to say nice things about trans men ever and it says absolutely nothing about me that I never have anything kind or nice to say about even the transmascs that are on my side/valid in my opinion and actually it's bigoted for you to demand I say nice things about other trans people fuck you kthxbye" and I just. What??

I know that there have been some cases of tmasc/transandrophobia bloggers harassing a trans woman, but like. It's pretty rare and usually only a couple of people. And that's still bad ofc but the scale is different for sure. In terms of big, influential tumblr users I swear every single time a popular tfem gets deactivated all the transandrophobia bloggers jump to their defense, meanwhile TRFs just gleefully go around attacking every trans guy who so much as breathes in their direction and calls you a transmisognist if you point out that it's fucked of them to have a double standard about trans rights. Or acts like "I said something bigoted and other members of my community got mad" is harassment. Like [Popular Tfem Musician] was def getting Harassed but I watched the whole thing unfold and while there were a few shitty tmascs chiming in, overall the harassment was led by an entirely different group who was mad about something unrelated, they just happened at the same time so everyone figured ALL the harassment was coming from tmascs when it very much was not.

(Also tmasc/transandrophobia bloggers are also constantly adding "if you're a follower and I see you bothering the person I'm talking about I'll report and block you myself" they like care a lot about all trans people and will show tf up for even ones they disagree with or who have directly harmed them when push comes to shove. [Popular MLP Tfem Artist] is still getting accused of harassing other trans women despite her constantly instructing her audience to leave everyone alone. And I have def seen way more transandrophobia bloggers call out any tmascs or other trans people on "their" side get ignored and deplatformed if they prove to be bad actors. I don't see TRFs doing that like. Ever. Like they go "take our the trash in your community" to tmascs but pretend they can't read when someone asks them to denounce people who openly harasses tmascs. Or just makes excuses for them because surely we can't actually harm a trans man, it doesn't count.)

But yeah I fully assume the reason TRFs say no one ever harasses tmascs but that they harass tfems all the time is because they simply do not think harassing trans people is wrong so long as it's directed at the correct target. I mean why would the "trans men don't have real problems" crowd ever actually say anything nice about them or help them when they're being harassed or tell their followers to leave them alone? It's just really sad to watch, big tmasc bloggers are not harassing people the way the TRFs want everyone to think, and they certainly don't harass other trans people the way TRFs do, but they get burdened with the harassment accusations and no one thinks to even check if that's actually what's happening.

10/10, I have nothing to add.

[revcleo]

Honestly this is also why a lot of liberal and left wing fact checking/debunking/hypocrisy shaming doesn't work. They don't care what they're doing is real, it just has to feel real and like if you're saying it's not true then it's "covering up the truth" at best.

Right wing propaganda always tends to do something like 1 grain of truth, either wildly misinterpreted or blown up to seem bigger than it is, such as here in the UK we have had approx. 22k per year refugees/migrants coming over the channel in small boats since 2019.

It's a lot of people if you are thinking about dealing with people as individuals, like how it's a lot of people to think about catering for 500 people. But on a population size of 68,000,000 there's 10k people who die every week.

It's hard to conceptualise population size things, once the number gets big enough it all seems roughly the same to monkey brain. This is exploited by the right wing by saying things like "Lefty liberals are covering up the massive immigration scandal who are taking your jobs and making housing unaffordable" with people being made to be afraid of Albanian men, but after the ordinary and expected Indian, Polish, Pakistani and Irish foreign born populations, the most common immigrant to the UK is from Germany (347,000). The confidence level on the official stats for this is higher than the apparent amount of people who travel by boat. (32,000+/-) but people don't care about the actual statistics because of in terms of whipping up fear what you want to do is cherry pick as much as possible.

Terfs nowadays create big lists where they cherry pick people who have been identified as possibly trans women (often including cis women on their lists) where that woman has beaten any amount of other people in a women's contest (even if the assumed trans woman has not gotten first place or it's a non-physical competition such as chess or trivia) to imply that there is a problem, though most of us can see this as obviously ridiculous. (They also purposefully keep a blank list to outwardly ignore any trans men who have beaten other men in any competitions to imply that trans men are always too weak, stupid and easily dominated.)

When people are doing this, you can't focus on the people providing the information, because they can just respond with "I'm just showing the TRUTH", but instead you can do things such as make sure that people are educated to ask the right questions, such as "What does this mean proportionally?" "Why are you focusing on this?" "Are you making the problem seem bigger than it is?" Or at least making people aware of when people are mountaining a molehill.

Like looking into these statistics can also be useful, left wing response can be to say "that's stupid, it doesn't matter" which is kinda true, but like it feels dismissive to the individual who has been affected by the propaganda, so looking into things and going, "Yeah that looks like a problem, but here's some comparisons, I think they're trying to make it look bigger than it is, the real truth is that [the government refuses to build more housing/landlords are putting up prices because they want to/the job market needs investment/thatcher made some bad choices]."

[demonslayedher]

You might recall I made a comic about Tanjiro's most dastardly Taisho Secret being that he adds charcoal as a secret ingredient in his rice.

EDIT: Please note that charcoal itself is indigestible, and Japanese charcoal is cooked to a very high level of purity. Please do not randomly stuff for lighting a barbecue into your rice, as I cannot make any claims about how safe that stuff is.

@reicchel remembered the aforementioned comic, and when we saw bamboo charcoal being sold with this advertised purpose, she gave me a look that said she wasn't going to let me get away with not putting it to the test. After all, I am kind of passionate about Japanese charcoal and its cultural implications, as well as how that gets used in Kimetsu no Yaiba (see here and here and here). I also usually only bother cooking if I'm doing a Kimetsu Kitchen thing (the posts specifically about the characters' favorite foods are here, but everything KnY-food related is in the tag.)

I have had no chance to even open the package of bamboo charcoal until now. This is partly because I have been busy out of my brains with work and partly because I hate cooking and am therefore loathe to add even one more step. However, this was the easiest Kimetsu Kitchen experiment I've ever done.

Bamboo charcoal is often sold as a natural dehumidifier, odor absorber, and bug-repellent to throw in your cabinets and stuff, but this was sold as clean enough for using in rice cookers and jugs of water for making mineral water (which I haven't done yet, seeing as I was too lazy to even open the package until today).

Speaking of today, I was having Mugen Ressha feels so I decided to recreate Tanjiro's dream meal, which happened to include Rengoku's favorite, satsuma-imo miso soup. That's become one of my favorite Kimetsu Kitchen recipes, though I haven't made it for a while, because I am lazy and busy. I do make a lot of miso soup because once you open a container of miso you have to use it really consistently to have any chance of using it all up, but satsuma-imo miso takes a little extra time and effort to get the potatoes all nice and soft, so lately I just through in some tororo konbu (Iguro's favorite food). I also picked up some nice big yellow takuan to make it closer to the Mugen Ressha meal, and since I was experimenting with bamboo charcoal and Takeo has bamboo in his name, might as well as what dream!Takeo likes to snag from big bro.

So anyway, the charcoal!rice got done.

Since I'm been so busy with work, that means I am in the habit of slamming food quickly instead of taking the time to enjoy it, so I'm just eating quick and easy and not especially enticing food while distracting myself with YouTube videos. This evening, after doing more weekend work, cleaning up the kitchen so I could set up the above photo, and putting aside leftovers, I was pleased with the photo result but then automatically went back to the YouTube video I had been semi-watching as I sat down and started putting food in my mouth without pausing to consider saying something like "itadakimasu."

But then I paused--

----what had I put in my mouth?

Why was it... so heavenly????????

Like, I legit froze with my chopsticks in the air as I started chewing that first little bite of white rice. It was exactly as I had Tanjiro describe it in that silly piece of fanart: "The natural minerals in the charcoal act on the rice to make it soft and fluffy."

Softest, fluffiest rice I've ever had, easily. But it's also exactly as the other Corp members cannot help but exclaim--how is it so freaking good!?

So like... I took my time with that meal. I chewed, slowly, thoroughly, like you're supposed to. The takuan and satsuma-imo miso soup likewise tasted simple and wonderful. It was best while the rice was warm, and I don't know how my leftovers will taste tomorrow, but I'm looking forward to it.

And I'm gonna make some mineral water too. The charcoal enthusiasts sure were not kidding about this rice.

[coddda]

I wish we could have met in some other way.

Lawlight Week Day 2: Soulmates

If you saw me repost and re-edit this several times uh No you didn't </3

Still frames/Individual gifs:

If you know what every frame is from you get a free cookie. by the way

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[ritchiepage2001newaccount]

Actually, before 7 Oct 2023, hundreds of thousands were in the streets (including half the army), demonstrating against the Israeli government, and in the wake of the attack, majority (56%) opposed annexation of Gaza, with only 33% in support.

Also, there have been street fights between soldiers, and right-wing Ultra-Orthodox men, because they were exempted from national service, despite being the main political force behind most conflicts.

And half opposed Invasion.

https://www.reuters.com/world/middle-east/israeli-poll-finds-49-support-holding-off-gaza-invasion-2023-10-27/

You're helping Hamas create an imaginary Israel, because their surrogates in social media told you to…

Also, the Gazan government (Hamas) gaslighting of their own populace is even more severe, than our own.

It's worth noting that American GI's committed war crimes in Europe during WWII, but they were a vanishing minority.

However TransOcean radio would've told you that they were representative.

Just like Nazis are a tiny minority of Ukrainian fighters, as they are a tiny minority of the Ukrainian populace (they don't even have enough support to gain a single seat in the parliament).

Yet RT (Russia Today), Sputnik and The Gray Zone (and others), would have you believe they are representative.

“He who knows only his own side of the case knows little of that. His reasons may be good, and no one may have been able to refute them. But if he is equally unable to refute the reasons on the opposite side, if he does not so much as know what they are, he has no ground for preferring either opinion." -John Stuart Mills

"Facts are stubborn things, so fuck your feelings." -John Adams

There was never a nation-state called Palestine.

Before 1948, the last time that Israel had a nation-state was the kingdom of Solomon.

And Palestine never had one.

The closest they got was a Roman province called Syria-Palestinia, which included the split kingdoms of Israel and Judea.

After WWI, most of the arable land was owned by absentee Ottoman landlords, who sold the land to Jews.

The fate of Palestinian tenant farmers was a bit of a mixed bag, as some were driven off said agricultural projects, while others remained and worked for the Jews, while still others refused to do so.

When the Jewish refugees started arriving in the British colony of Palestine after WWII, most thought they could coexist with the Arabs, but there were dark forces that could never allow that to happen.

During the war, most Arab leaders had sided with the Nazis.

In fact, when Syria invaded Iraq, they did so with an able-assist from the Luftwaffe.

After the war, the main escape for Nazi war criminals on the lam, was through Damascus and Beirut, to Cairo, to Algiers, and onto Latin America.

To make matters still worse, the British promised the same land to the Israelis AND Palestinians.

So, the region has always been chock full o'fascists, and I would no more side with Israeli fascists (Likkud), or Palestinian fascists (Hamas), than I would between Lebanese Falangists and Syrian Ba'athists.

To err is human, but to really screw things up, you need the British Crown.

There is no Palestine in the Quran. There was no Palestine in the area under Ottoman occupation.

There is no call for a state of Palestine or two State solution or peace in the Hamas charter. That is never mentioned. Peace is explicitly rejected.

The decades prior to 1948 were intermittent serious massacres of Jews living in Jewish cities, plus the constant threat of violent attacks by Arabs on Jewish refugees who were pretty much defenseless until they purchased weapons and formed militias.

It's possible to look up exactly how much Jewish families paid for land they PURCHASED from Arab Christians and from Arab Muslims. The mayors of several major cities in family clan leaders were quite positive about living with Jews, sharing improved wealth, sharing improved health, sharing the eradication of malaria and opening up new lands. What's the problem?

The hostile Muslims who dominate the news slaughtered the friendly Muslims for being too nice to Jews. They eliminated the political opposition that wanted a peaceful 2-state solution in the 1930s. That's not much different from how Islamists do politics in other countries, murdering the opposition.

Look at the succession of brilliant and competent Iraqi leaders before Saddam Hussein. Each current leader was killed off by the new leader. Look at what Iran did to leftists who helped the Iranian clergy seize power.

Egyptian leaders need to firmly suppress the risk of a coup, by radical islamists.

If you want to help Palestinians, here are some excellent resources:

Help the people of Gaza

https://crisisrelief.un.org/opt-crisis

Palestine Emergency Relief

UNRWA

https://www.unrwa.org/

The Palestine Red Crescent Society (PRCS)

Oxfam International

Doctors Without Borders

World Central Kitchen

let us take a moment and grieve for all the lives lost. so many thousand people have been murdered by the zionist entity in the last fifteen months. palestinians in gaza have lost too much, from friends and family to their homes and livelihood.

this ceasefire is not an end to our solidarity with gaza. we will all be here waiting and praying for palestine to be wholly liberated from the occupation and watch her people be happy and free.

in the meantime, please keep donating to palestinian fundraisers. it is essential to support families planning on rebuilding.

alaa is a mother of two young children. her fundraiser has been verified. i request you to help her by sharing and donating to her gofundme.

please donate here

[inkskinned]

they want to talk about mental illness and acceptance and how everyone is a little ocd it's cute and quirky and their "intrusive thoughts" are about cutting their hair off and you say yours are about taking a razorblade to your eye and they say ew can you not and everyone is a little adhd sometimes! except if you're late it's a personality flaw and it's because you are careless and cruel (and someone else with adhd mentions they can be on time, so why can't you?) and it's not an eating disorder if it's girl dinner! it's not mania if it's girl math! what do you mean you blew all of your savings on nonrefundable plane tickets for a plane you didn't even end up taking. what do you mean that you are afraid of eating. get over it. they roll their little lips up into a sneer. can you not, like, trauma dump?

they love it on them they like to wear pieces of your suffering like jewels so that it hangs off their tongue in rapiers. they are allowed to arm-chair diagnose and cherrypick their poisons but you can't ever miss too many showers because that's, like, "fuckken gross?" so anyone mean is a narcissist. so anyone with visual tics is clearly faking it and is so cringe. but they get to scream and hit customer service employees because well, i got overwhelmed.

you keep seeing these posts about how people pleasers are "inherently manipulative" and how it's totally unfair behavior. but you are a people pleaser, you have an ingrained fawn response. in the comments, you have typed and deleted the words just because it is technically true does not make it an empathetic or kind reading of the reaction about one million times. it is technically accurate, after all. you think of catholic guilt, how sometimes you feel bad when doing a good deed because the sense of pride you get from acting kind - that pride is a sin. the word "manipulation" is not without bias or stigma attached to it. many people with the fawn response are direct victims of someone who was malignantly manipulative. calling the victims manipulative too is an unfair and unkind reading of the situation. it would be better and more empathetic to say it is safety-seeking or connection-seeking behavior. yes, it can be toxic. no, in general it is not intended to be toxic. there is no reason to make mentally ill people feel worse for what we undergo.

you type why is everyone so quick to turn on someone showing clear signs of trauma but you already know the fucking answer, so what's the point of bothering. you kind of hate those this is what anxiety looks like! infographics because at this point you're so good at white-knuckling through a severe panic attack that people just think you're stoic. even people who know the situation sometimes comment you just don't seem depressed. and you're not a 9 year old white kid so there's no way you're on the spectrum, you're not obsessed with trains and you were never a good mathematician. okay then.

mental illness is trending. in 2012 tumblr said don't romanticize our symptoms but to be fair tiktok didn't exist yet. there's these series of videos where someone pretends to be "the most boring person on earth" and is just being a normal fucking person, which makes your skin crawl, because that probably means you are boring. your friend reads aloud a profile from tinder - no depressed bitches i fucking hate that mental illness crap. your father says that medication never actually works.

you still haven't told your grandmother that you're in therapy. despite everything (and the fact it's helping): you just don't want her to see you differently.