#i have received supportive comments from local friends

[owlbelly]

"happy" tdov, the local paper published my letter to the editor! this is both exactly what i wanted (not letting the transphobic article pass without comment/clapback) & wayyyyy more visibility for me personally than i would like :')

[limethefirst]

Guard Dogs

pairings: Deadpool x reader x Wolverine

warnings: drinking, violence, swearing, creepy guy in a bar, crude humor

summary: you never have to worry when you go out, your guard dogs are always there to protect you

a/n: can be perceived as romantic or platonic, it’s not specified! Also I want to thank everyone who’s been supporting my stories and all the kind words I’ve received!

Going out alone wasn’t something you liked to do, but unfortunately there were a lot of instances in which you had to. The world itself wasn’t a safe place, both Wade and Logan knew that, in fact it was one of the few things they could always agree on.

Today was no different, do your usual chores, relax, eat, work, but there was something else you wanted to do, a little treat for all your hard work, “Let’s go drinking tonight!”

Wade and Logan looked up from whatever they were doing. You had bursted into their apartment without a notice.

It was normal for all three of you to hang out, but it was unusual for you guys to all go to a bar together. Logan was the heaviest drinker of the group, he knew where to go, Wade would go with his friends mostly, and you didn’t treat yourself to this as much.

“Alright,” Logan mumbled, his eyes on whatever stories the local news channel had on, controller in one hand his head in the other.

“Woah the big bad wolf wants to be seen out with us?!” Wade exclaimed, referring to Logan, “Sign me up!” Logan rolled his eyes at the comment his ‘friend’ made, not in the mood to argue with him.

“Okay I’ll be back at 7,” You told the men, closing the door heading back to your own apartment.

“I need to go put on my good toupee!” Wade claps his hands together, heading towards his bathroom, grabbing the staplers on his way.

Logan’s eyes still glued to the television yells over to him, “They’re all ugly don’t worry.” Wade flips him off, closing the door.

Getting ready was something that made time fly by, because before anyone knew it 7 was already here. The three musketeers were ready for their adventure.

Logan led the way, knowing the best places in the city despite being here for the shortest amount of time. Wade was on your right fixing his “hair system” as he made some snarky remarks at Logan.

You walked close to Wade unaware of what was going on.

The bar was nice, it had some stools, a few benches and normal tables for bigger groups. Logan sat himself on the stools by the bartender knowing he’d get liquor much faster this way. Wade sat a seat away from Logan leaving you space in the middle of the two, which you didn’t mind at all.

“Give me another drink,” Logan called to the bar keep.

“There you go just fucking up that liver again,” Wade smirked at him, just trying to get under his skin.

“Shut the fuck up before I rip off that toupee and shove it right up your-”

Before Logan could finish Wade quickly put his finger up to his mouth, “Woah there peanut, I don’t do pegging on the first date,”

“If this wasn’t a public bar I’d cut that oversized head of yours off,”

You laughed as Logan and Wades bickering continued. Suddenly you noticed as the music seemed to turn off, normally you wouldn’t mind but tonight a nice song would’ve been good so you quietly excuse yourself from the situation.

You found yourself walking over to the jukebox; your eyes examining the song selections before picking ‘Million Dollar Man’ by Lana Del Rey (Ldr mentioned).

Having put on your song you found yourself walking back to the stool seat before a man walked in front of you.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing by herself?” His tone was slurred, obviously from drinking too much. He wasn’t tall and he looked like he’d just woken up.

You gave a quiet sigh, “Oh I’m not alone,” You gave him a slight smile hoping he’d get the memo.

The man looked around and smiled creepily at you, “I don’t see anyone” He slowly took some more steps closer to you.

“How ‘bout now Bub,” Logan’s voice boomed from behind you, you felt his hand on your shoulder.

The creep gave an annoyed eye roll. Logan was taller than the man by a lot, and was definitely more intimidating.

“We were just talking, why don’t you leave us alone?” He began to mock Logan, this only riled him up some more.

“I’ll give you three seconds to walk away before I get serious,” Logan’s eyes were trained on the man, his arms were now crossed over his chest, visibly annoyed.

The man let out a dry chuckle, “Yeah okay what are you gonna do buddy?”

“We’re gonna fuck you in the ass,” Wade said as he showed up behind the man and grabbed his head, smashing it into the bar. Logan then brought the man back up just to knee him in the stomach before throwing him on the ground.

Everyone else started to get up after seeing the commotion, obviously itching for a fight, but you didn’t waste anytime for that grabbing both men and running out of the bar.

“Jesus Wade did you have to say that?” You asked him, wondering why he thought ass play was a threat.

“Do not use my name in vein,” he responded, clearly unbothered by his remark.

Logan gruffed at the evening you guys had, visibly tired from all that went on.

“We need to stop going out together,” you said looking at the street light.

“Let’s watch a movie at my place next time!” Wade offered, a cheery expression on his face.

“Yea whatever but you better not pick a fucking porno again,” Logan glared at him remembering the last time Wade picked a movie for the three of you to watch.

“I think it makes for good team bonding!”

[atelierlili]

💚Fandoms United For Helene Relief💚

Recently, Hurricane Helene has devastated areas of Appalachia and in particular Asheville, North Carolina. It is the deadliest mainland hurricane in the US since Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Many have lost their homes, possessions, and are struggling for food and other basic necessities. 

The hurricane hit many areas that are historically impoverished, and the North Carolina State Climate office state that "the full extent of this event will take years to document – not to mention, to recover from."

Katniss Everdeen’s home, District 12, is set in Appalachia, and The Hunger Games movie was filmed in Asheville, NC, and so the Hunger Games fandom wanted to put together a charity event and invite our friends from other fandoms to join. You might have seen us before as Hunger Games and Friends for Helene Relief, but as tumblr has been cracking down on these lately, we were shadowbanned and terminated twice. Nevertheless, this is an effort that we find extremely important to address and have come back as Fandoms United for Helene Relief. Due to this, there have been a few changes such as an updated email and dates that have been pushed back. It’s also the reason that we’re posting this on one of our team member’s personal blogs.

Fandoms United for Helene Relief is a fanworks collection to raise money for local charities addressing the needs in Asheville, NC and other areas affected by Hurricane Helene. Fanfiction authors and fanartists from any fandom can volunteer to submit a new work to the collection. Fans who give to one of the approved charities can then email the event proof of the contribution and receive ALL of the fanwork submitted to the collection. 

Approved charities: Our focus is on local charities who have ties to the community, know their needs, and will stay for the long haul in these communities over the years as they rebuild. Our list of approved charities include organizations that help foster children, unhoused, seniors, animals, general relief, and more, for whatever cause is close to your heart. Information and links to their donation pages can be found on this google doc. 

Fanwork criteria: As mentioned before, the work needs to be new and not published on any other platform. We ask for a three-month period from the release of the collection until authors and artists post the work to another platform. Fanwork can be from any fandom, for any character or ship. All fanwork must be rated PG-13/T or lower. As organizers, we won’t be able to verify the ages of those donating for the collection and cannot risk sending explicit material to minors.

Timeline: We want all interested contributors to commit to the collection by November 2 by submitting this google form. Final works must be submitted to fuhrgames74[at]gmail.com by November 16. The organizers will then compile the collection and it will be released November 30. Those fans who would like access to the collection can email proof of contribution to fuhrgames74[at]gmail.com at any time up through December 30. Those who email prior to November 30 will have access on the day and those who email after release day will receive it as soon as possible once the proof of contribution is received. Fanfiction authors can then publish their work on other platforms February 23, 2025.

FOR MORE UPDATES AND INFORMATION PLEASE FOLLOW US AT @fandomsunited4hr !! I will be posting more info, which includes our featured artists and writers, there in the future.

Questions or comments can be sent here on our tumblr or emailed to fuhrgames74[at]gmail.com

Whether you write, donate, and/or reblog, we appreciate your support!

[mountainsandmayhem]

You're a Brat, Little Dove

Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You play with Joel at your 25 year high school reunion to get exactly what you want. CW: Dom!Joel, Sub/Dom, blowjob, throat fucking, gagging, nipple play, Brat!Tamer, unprotected p in v (they’re in a long-term relationship), oral (f and m receiving), anal play very briefly, pet names, cream pie kink, praise kink, degradation if you squint, denial and edging, NO AGE GAP (Joel and reader are in their 40’s)  A/N: I am absolutely BLOWN AWAY by the love that You're Mine and Stay Still have gotten. Truly, from the bottom of my cold, dead heart I really appreciate your likes, comments and reblogs. Hopefully you enjoy this one, as well. Dividers and banners by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 5.6k

Dress. Check. 

Nude heels. Check. 

2 daytime outfits.  Check. 

Drive home clothes. Check. 

Make up bag. Check.

Stop worrying so much. You’re not even leaving the country, you can buy what you forgot.

“You ok?” Joel asks as he wraps his arms around you from behind.

“Just the usual pre-travel anxieties.” You say, leaning into his warmth. Your arms unconsciously cross over his, hands resting on his forearms. 

“We’re not leaving the country, you can buy whatever you forgot,” you smile to yourself at how well he knows you as his lips press lightly to your temple. “Remember when I had to go out of town at the last minute before our Disneyland trip and you packed for all of us?”

“Mmhmmm,” you say. The memories come flooding in of those two little girls; one dressed as a princess from head to toe and the other refusing to take off her Darth Vader helmet. The latter was far braver on the “scary rides”, and held her sister's hand until they were both giggling and screaming with delight.

“You didn’t miss a single thing - for any of us. Including the nightlight that Sarah couldn’t be without and the granola bars that Ellie claimed were the only things she could have for breakfast.” 

You turn your head and gently press your lips to his. This is the kind of love that people write about. Supportive. Caring. Complete and unwavering trust. Each person is 100% in for the other, willingly giving when the other needs to take, and never keeping score. You don’t judge the other for any sort of anxiety they might be having or help they might be needing. Partners. Through and through. 

A noise from the kitchen brings you back and you break the kiss. “What is that incessant beeping?” 

“That’s your phone,” he laughs while pulling out of the hug and squeezing your sides. “It’s been going off all morning. Someone is messaging you on Facebook.” 

You squirm free of his wandering hands and go to brush your teeth. When you come back out to the kitchen he’s scrolling through the messages in your phone. 

“Who is it?” You ask, getting your morning coffee ready. 

Joel throws his head back, laughing loudly as he reads in a mocking voice, “Hi. Long time no talk. I saw your name on the guest list for the reunion this weekend. Can’t wait to catch up. Looks like you’re single. At least based on your profile. Glad to see you got rid of that goon you were dating in your 20s.” 

Your profile is blank, a picture of you holding baby Ellie the day you officially adopted her is the only thing on there, and you have maybe 15 friends. Truthfully, you aren’t even sure why you have it, even in the heyday of Facebook, you weren’t exactly a share-everything-about-yourself-on-the-internet type of girl.

“Oh god,” you laugh. “It’s Zack, isn’t it?” 

Joel wipes away a tear from laughing so hard. “Each sentence is its own message, but I’m a goon?” He slides your phone across the counter to you adding, “Can I punch him again when we see him?” 

Years ago, while visiting your parents, Zack got a little too handsy when you ran into each other at a local pool hall. Joel was and very much still is, a ‘touch her and die’ type of lover. 

You both laugh as you kiss him goodbye and head to work.

On your lunch break, you updated your profile picture to you and Joel with the girls at their high school graduation. Hopefully, Zack will get the message. By 5 pm you’re rushing home to get out the door and drive 5 hours to your old hometown. 

The minute you walk into the reunion you see women’s heads turning to look at Joel. You can’t say you blame them, Joel Miller is the dictionary definition of a DILF! And tonight, in perfectly tailored black pants, a crisp black dress shirt and black tie, his slightly outgrown curls pushed back, and grey scruff perfectly trimmed, he looks hot as sin. And then, just to add insult to an already smoldering hot injury, he recently came to terms with needing glasses for driving at night. Those black frames should be illegal. 

Over the last few days you’ve been sending him articles about spanking and on the drive up had an open and honest communication about what you both wanted out of it. Deep down you’re hoping tonight is your night, you’re tempted to just go back to the hotel and let him do whatever he wants. Instead, the two of you hit the bar to get a drink before finding a table to sit at.

“Who is that lady in the gold sequin dress with the black hair, almost directly behind you?” Joel asks awkwardly, sipping his whiskey.

You glance around the room, trying to not make it obvious when you catch the one person you don’t want around Joel staring right at him. 

“Lucy Garfield.” You say flatly. “She’s the one that slept with Zack seconds after I left for university. I thought they were married but she is eye fucking you so hard.”

“Gross,” he laughs, his nose crinkling up in disgust. He’s so endearing when he’s joking around with you, “Don’t say eye fucking.”

You laugh, “It’s what she’s doing Joel. I wonder how long before she’s over here talking to you.”

You start pushing your chair out from the table and he grabs your leg, “Leave me alone and you’re dead to me”

“Joel,” you giggle and try to push the chair more, “I kinda have to pee though.” 

“Babe, I'm serious. She scares me,” he says with a shudder. “I can feel her looking at me.” 

“Oh, she’s doing more than looking…” you tease, sliding your chair back in.

“Don’t say it.”

He squirms as you lean in to his ear and whisper, “Eye fucking.”

“I hate you.” 

After a few hours of catching up with old friends, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and grab another drink for you and Joel. When you come out of the bathroom Lucy is alone at your table with Joel. You can see the discomfort on his face as she shows him something on his phone. You’re not jealous or worried, but when Zack approaches you at the bar you decide to have a little fun.

“So you didn’t break up with him after all?” He’s leaning back cockily on the bar, arms crossed, eyes locked on Lucy. 

“No,” you laugh while ordering drinks; whiskey neat for Joel and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon for you. “I never planned to.” 

“I figured. Lucy seems to take a liking to anyone you set your sights on.”

“You would know best, Zack.” You’re still facing the bar, but you see Zack glance quickly in your direction at the dig. “Any advice for poor Joel over there?”

“Don’t leave the best thing that ever happened to you for a gymnast with...” he stops speaking when he looks back to you, seeing you with one eyebrow raised as you sip your wine. “She and I are getting divorced.” 

“I assumed.”

“Oh?”

And that’s when you hear it. Your song with Joel. 

‘I know what you look like in the morning

Your kisses are soft and warm’

Joel looks around the room for you, when he spots you at the bar a mischievous grin crosses your face and you lean in close to Zack. 

“Dance with me?” You whisper, giving him the puppy eyes he never used to say no to. 

‘I can draw you with my eyes closed 

Seen you with nothing on but the radio’

He places a hand on your lower back and leads you to the dance floor before pulling you in close. Huh, you think to yourself, 25 years later and still got it.

You look away from Joel and give Zack a tight lipped smile as the first verse of the song melts into the chorus. 

‘I know the kind of thing that makes you laugh 

The way you tilt your head for a photograph

What other guy knows you like that’

You fight the urge not to look past Zack’s shoulder and over at Joel as Zack’s voice drones on in the distance, telling you about his divorce. 

‘And I can name the first guy you ever kissed’

You can’t help but sneak a glance at Joel. Zack is the first guy you kissed and Joel knows it.

‘I can name the perfume on your wrist’

Joel crosses his arms, staring at you darkly from across the room. Fuck, you think maybe you bit off more than you can chew.

‘What other guy knows you like that’

Joel stands and strides over to you. 

Yes. Got him. He doesn’t look mad, if anything he’s looking at you with dangerous desire in his eyes. Your heart flutters as heat travels between your thighs.

“Babe, we gotta go.” 

Zack starts to protest but you release yourself from his arms and say with a big smile, “It was lovely catching up. Thank you for the dance.” 

As Joel leads you off the dance floor he growls quietly in your ear, “You’ve been a very bad girl, Little Dove.” 

The car ride back to the hotel is silent. Not a word is uttered between either of you, the second the elevator door closes Joel presses you back against the wall.  Towering over you, one of his hands roughly pulls down the right cup of your dress and bra, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and pointer finger. 

You gasp out in pain, but he doesn’t say anything, just glares down at you. As the pain morphs into pleasure you squeeze your thighs together, your panties starting to soak through. He releases you when the elevator stops and turns his back to you, you cover your abused nipple back up before you follow him into your room.

“Clothes off and kneel,” he growls, throwing a pillow haphazardly at your feet.

“Joel-I…” you stutter out. He stalks across the room, only the discarded pillow separating you. 

“I said,” he starts harshly. “Clothes off and kneel, Little Dove.”

You swallow the dry lump in your throat while sliding the zipper down the side of your black dress, letting it fall to the ground. A deep, guttural moan escapes Joel as you kick the dress aside and remove your bra and panties. You’re completely bare for him, nothing but your nude heels left. 

“That’s better. Now kneel.” 

You do as he says, getting into his desired position; hands on your lap and eyes aimed at the floor in front of you. He bends, cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. You expect to see his eyes dark and lips tight, instead, you’re met with softness, his chocolate brown eyes boring into you.

“Little Dove,” he starts, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I am going to punish you for being a brat tonight. Everything I plan to do is things we’ve talked about.” 

“Like what?” You ask as your mouth goes impossibly dry.

“No, you don’t get answers tonight. You’re in trouble. Do you remember your safe words?”

You nod, “Yes sir.”

The colour coding system is how Joel prefers to do things. Red if you need to end things, yellow if you need a break or to slow down, and green to keep going.

His thumb caresses your cheek, “That’s my girl.” 

Joel stands abruptly and your gaze follows him. When he looks down at you, his features are no longer soft. His eyes are almost black, eyebrows slightly knit together and jaw clenched. He snaps his fingers and points at the ground and you immediately obey, shifting your gaze back to where he prefers it. He walks across the room, uncuffing the sleeves of his black dress shirt and rolling them up his thick forearms. You hear the unmistakable sound of him removing his tie and his glasses being placed on the table.

“You were a brat tonight, Little Dove,” he says darkly. “Remind me, do I like brats?” 

“No, sir.” It comes out in a nervous squeak.

Joel stares at you for a while and it’s nearly impossible to keep your eyes on the ground. If Joel had to classify himself, he’d say he was a pleasure Dom. He’d rather use pleasure until you’d beg him to stop, but pleasure is earned, and you used that song and your ex-boyfriend to get to him tonight. He saunters back over and pets your head, just as you start to close your eyes and lean into his touch he grips your hair hard and pulls until you’re once again looking up at him. A shocked yelp comes out of you as you make eye contact. 

“I think you did this on purpose because you so badly want me to spank you.”

“N-no, sir.” 

“No? I bet if I reached in between your legs and felt your pretty little pussy she’d be soaked for me right now. Am I right?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Take out my cock, Little Dove.” 

His grip on your hair doesn’t loosen as you reach up with shaky hands to undo his belt and pants. As you slide his dress pants down his thick thighs you can see him already hard under his tight black boxers. As you lower those, his thick cock springs free, brushing against your face.

“Hands on my thighs,” he barks.

You jump slightly at the harsh tone and move your hands to rest along the sides of his thighs. He moves his free hand to one of yours and taps on your hand 3 times. “You do that if you need to stop. Show me.” 

You tap 3 times on his thigh like he showed you. “Too bad you were such a bad girl tonight. I wanted to please you and not punish you.”

He moves his hand to fist his cock a few times. It brushes your lips as he continues to speak. “Who do you belong to, Little Dove?”

“You sir,” you answer firmly but quietly. 

“That’s right. Open.”

You lick your lips and obey his orders. He lines himself up and slides the tip of his cock in your mouth, pumping his shaft slowly with his hand, the other still locked in your hair. 

“Mine,” he says it like he’s claiming you as he works more of himself into your mouth. You’re surprised how he takes his time, inching in a little before pulling back, letting you swirl your tongue around to get him nice and wet. When he’s finally all the way in, pushing against your gag reflex he groans out, “So…completely…mine.”

You look up at him through your lashes and remind yourself to relax your throat and breathe through your nose, moaning around his cock before he pulls it all the way out. Saliva falls from your mouth and he smirks at you cockily while he fucks himself with his palm, the tip of his leaking dick resting on your tongue. The salty taste of his pre cum sends a fresh wave of arousal to the apex of your thighs, you can feel it gathering on your calves that are tucked underneath you. 

Without warning, Joel starts to fuck your throat. He pushes himself all the way in and you gag around him before he pulls out halfway. He continues this punishing rhythm for a while, muttering darkly about how you’re a bad girl and you deserve to be punished.  

You’re taken aback by how much you fucking love it. Watching him tower above you all big and strong but you know he’s falling apart. He’s becoming putty because of you and your mouth. It’s filthy and slightly degrading, but you realize that you’re the one in control here. You could do this forever and make a mental note to find times to act out more often.  Tears start to run down your cheeks as his thrusts turn sloppy. You know he’s close so you hum around his cock.

“Oh fuuuuck, baby.” He pulls himself out and steps back, strings of saliva falling from his cock and landing on your chin. Your hands hit the ground in front of you as you gasp in a full breath for this first time since he started using your mouth.  The heat between your thighs is starting to become unbearable.

“What did you think was going to happen - huh?” he says in a deep and condescending tone. “That I’d spank you and then make you come?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You’re not sorry though, you’d do it again just to feel that gush between your thighs when he hits the back of your throat. 

“Only good girls get spankings. So let me make myself very clear.” You straighten your spine and look up at him as he goes back to petting your hair. 

“You are not allowed to cum.” His voice is deep and scratchy, you’re sure he could make a living by narrating erotica, but that voice is yours.

A small whimper escapes you as he continues. “I’m going to continue to use you how I want. If I think you’ve proven yourself to be my good girl, you’ll get that spanking you want so desperately. Understand?” 

He almost purrs as he says good girl and it turns you feral. “Yes, sir.” 

He reaches a hand to you and helps you stand. He gently wipes the tears from your cheeks before kissing the tip of your nose. “Get on the bed.”

As you walk to the bed you bring one leg up to remove your heels. “Leave them on. Hands and knees, Little Dove.”

Fuck, he knows this is your kryptonite. And fuck, you’re back to thinking that maybe you bit off more than you can handle. Joel is predictable about his Sunday plans during football season and nothing else. 

After stripping off his clothes he comes up behind you, rubs the warm tip of his cock through your slit and he lets out a deep moan. Both of you can hear the wetness as he moves from your clit to your ass. “Mmmm - my bad girl clearly liked having me fuck her throat. You’re soaked for me.”

A firm hand pushes down between your shoulder blades and your upper body hits the mattress. at this new angle, everything is bare to him. 

“Mine,” he says again before placing a few long, slow licks from your clit to your ass, swirling and pressing his tongue in all the right places. “So…completely…mine.” 

His tongue teases your clit as he lightly teases your ass with the pad of his thumb.  The heat begins to spread to your spine, the world falls away and all you’re left with is Joel.  Joel and his wonderful and magic tongue.  Joel and his ability to make you cum.  His voice from earlier rings through your cries of pleasure, ‘you are not allowed to cum.’

“I…n-no…” you stutter, squeezing all your muscles to stop the orgasm that’s fast approaching. “That’s gonna…I’m gonna!” 

“Don’t you dare, Little Dove.” He bites down on your ass cheek and you yelp in pain, but glad for the distraction from how close you were to finishing. 

“Such a bad little girl tonight.” He says into your skin before continuing to tease you with his tongue, swirling your clit, moving to gently flick your ass, then back to your clit. You never know where his tongue might explore next and you find yourself mentally mapping out each aisle of your favorite grocery store with your eyes clamped shut to distract yourself. 

“I wanna be a good girl,” you beg, utterly desperate to follow his rules tonight. “Please stop. I wanna be good, sir.” 

“Poor thing,” he says mockingly, rising and sliding himself inside you so slowly that you feel every inch, vein, and ridge. 

“Fuuuuuuuccccck,” you gasp as he bottoms out. A small, pleading ‘please’ escapes your lips but you don’t even know what you’re asking for. Your body feels like liquid at this point, every muscle relaxed and every bone somehow missing. It’s a complete state of nirvana, if only he’d let you cum.

“Not yet,” he drags out of you and slams back in, a complete juxtaposition to how he first entered you. His grip on your hips is so tight that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “This is my pussy, mine. Say it.”

“Y-yours…” you manage to whine. “oh fuck…yours Joel.”

“That’s right, babygirl.  Mine. So…completely…mine.”

One of your shoes falls to the ground as he continues to slam into you.  You no longer know the difference between right and left, you just know that one shoe is missing. As you reach back to touch him, he pins your hand to your lower back, sliding almost all the way out before slowly pressing his hips flush with your ass. 

“No,” he says sternly. “Only good girls get to touch.” 

You scream out his name, begging him to let you cum. Joel leans forward and pulls you up, still fully inside of you, he holds you still against his warm chest, the combination of your sweat and his sweat feeling sticky along your back.  

“You like when I use you like this, Little Dove?”

“Yessss,” you whine. You force yourself not to roll your hips even though the need to orgasm is almost painful. The word yellow flows through your mind. You could say it. You could say it and get what you want, but you trust Joel. You trust that he has bigger and better plans for you. 

“Say it,” he commands while rolling your earlier pinched nipple between his fingers. 

“Use me, sir….Please. I want to please you.”

“That’s my girl. My perfect little submissive.”

He pushes you back down into the sheets and fucks you harder. The sounds of skin slapping skin and your moans and squeals fill the room. You tense every muscle again to stop the orgasm that’s right on the surface. 

“Where do you want it, Little Dove?”

“Inside me, sir.”

Joel curses through gritted teeth. “Fuck, baby.” 

“Fill me, sir.”

“Such a filthy little girl. D’you know that?” His voice is strained, you know he’s close and you just have to hold off a little longer. 

“Only for you,” you say through moans and gasps.

That’s what does it and you push him over the edge with your words, the heat of his spend filling you as he lets out a loud moan. “Good fucking girl.”

He moves his hips into you a few more times, filling you so much it starts to leak out. “Fuck, takin’ me so well, soundin’ so goddamn sweet as you beg.” 

He doesn’t stay in long after he cums, which you’re thankful for because you’re sure a faint breeze could make you detonate at this point. He steps back to admire the mess he’s made, using his fingers to push his cum back inside you before sitting next to your knees.

“Get over my knee.” 

You rush on shaky limbs to get over this lap, wiggling your ass in nervous excitement. He uses one hand to pin your wrists behind your back. “Mmm - that’s my good girl.” 

Joel uses his other hand to draw slow circles along your cheeks. His warm and calloused fingers send shivers across your body.  “How many do you think you should get?” 

“10,” you respond sheepishly. 

Joel laughs deeply to himself. “You were a brat. Do you really think 10 is enough?” 

You audibly swallow in response to what you know is a rhetorical question. You didn’t think your pussy could throb any harder, but his voice, his hands, and this position has every nerve in your body aflame. 

“20, and if you behave, I’ll stop at 15.” 

“Please, sir.” The anticipation is killing you.

“Ok. I am going to spank you with my hand 20 times. You are going to count and say ‘I’m sorry’ after each one. Understand?” 

“Yes, sir.”  You try not to whine, but you need to be touched,

“Give me a colour baby”

“Green,” you whisper needily. 

2 sharp and quick slaps hit your ass.

“1 and 2,” you squeal, “I’m sorry” 

Light finger strokes tickle along the back of your thighs and up towards the now stinging skin. Joel’s hand disappears from your body and you tense. 

“Shhh,” his thumb holding your wrist strokes the soft skin. “Take a deep breath, Little Dove.” 

You inhale shakily, as you try to relax on your exhale, his hand comes down again. When the two of you did your research on spanking, all the experts said you’d know the sound of a good spank, and Joel being, well Joel, has taken it to a new level of perfection. His third spank stings, but it’s quickly replaced with a fresh wave of warmth in your core. 

“Three. I’m sorry,” you love how quickly he can turn you into a whining mess.

From that point you’re in a trance. You almost feel like you’re floating outside your body as Joel continues your punishment. You hear your voice counting each strike of his hand.  A rush of adrenaline courses through you after each one and you can feel his spend leaking out and dripping in between your thighs.

“Eight. I’m sorry” 

“Messy messy girl.” He says, swiping a finger up your thigh and through the folds of your swollen pussy, he stays away from your clit but you could scream with how good it feels. “I should make you clean this up.” 

You turn your head, glancing over your shoulder to face him, readying yourself for him to slide his fingers down your throat. Instead, he licks his fingers clean and then lays 3 quick smacks across your ass. 

“Eleven. Oh god,” your body jolts with the first one but by the third you’re rolling your lips into him for friction, you need more. More pain. More of his fingers. More of anything and everything he’s willing to give you. “I’m sorry.”

Joel isn’t surprised to see that you like the pain, but he is surprised by how much he likes seeing you in pain. He was hesitant about this whole thing, worried about hurting you, but you’ve never looked more beautiful. A blush lights your face and neck, a thin sheen of sweat across your body. Your squeals and cries slowly become wanton moans. He knows it hurts you, but he can also see how that pain is temporary followed by a rush of adrenaline and pleasure. 

“Good job, Little Dove,” he rubs the red hand prints gently. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you.” 

You relax into his lap as his praises wash over you. You feel completely submissive to him and for the first time, you feel what he said earlier. You are his. So completely his. 

“My,” SMACK 

“Perfect,” SMACK

“Little,” SMACK 

“Submissive,” SMACK 

They happen so quickly that all you can do is moan loudly in ecstasy, heat flooding your core to the point that it’s unbearable.  Pressure behind your eyes builds as your neediness grows.  

“Fif-fifteen. I’m sorry, sir.” You’re squirming uncontrollably, tears threaten to spring from your eyes.

“Please - please. It huuuurts.” Joel knows it’s not the spanking that hurts, it’s the animalistic need to cum that’s causing you so much discomfort. 

“There’s my good girl,” he growls, sliding 2 fingers deep inside you. He curls them forward into your tight and messy heat. The squelching of his cum mixed with your arousal fills the room.

“Does this feel good, Little Dove?” 

“Please Joel,” you sob through stuttered breaths, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “P-please - don’t stop.”

“Fuck I love when you say please. Did you know that?  How it makes my cock twitch hearing you whine sweetly, asking so nicely.” 

He slows his fingers, he knows how sensitive you are, he can feel your pussy gripping tightly to his fingers and he wants to bring you pleasure now, not push you into overstimulation. “You took those so beautifully, Little Dove. I’m so proud of you.” 

You cry out a thank you, your orgasm is right there, the heat in your stomach and spine ready to erupt and spread to the rest of your body. As you squirm on his lap you can feel his erection growing beneath you. Joel continues curling his fingers against your most sensitive spot, his other hand letting go of your wrists and moving to soothe the handprints he left. The gentleness of one hand combined with the demanding desire of the other sends your mind swirling. 

“Get up, baby girl.” He slides his fingers out from you and you want to cry out and complain before he adds, “I want you to cum on my cock.” 

Joel steadies you as you stand up in front of him, “Hold on, spin around.” 

You do as he says, albeit slightly confused until he presses his lips to the bright red handprints he’s tattooed across your skin. 

Yep, you think to yourself. I’m His. So completely his. 

You lay back on the bed, Joel crawling between your legs. He’s looking at you the way he used to when you first met, taking in every inch of your skin almost as if to commit it to memory. It’s the complete opposite of how he looked at you while you danced with Zack. His dangerous desire has turned to an overwhelming softness. 

“Lift your hips, baby,” he slides a spare pillow under you. 

His strong hands massage your hips gently as his eyes rake over your red and swollen pussy. “Oh - that looks painful, baby. Do you need me to take care of it?” 

You whine out in frustration, “Please, sir. I need to cum. Please.” 

He lets out a whispered ‘oh god’ at your pleas, hooking one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, the other wrapping around his waist as he lines himself up and then leans down to softly press his lips to yours. He slides inside of you slowly and you’re instantly shaking underneath him. 

“Shhh, you’re ok,” he whispers into your lips before kissing you harder, rocking his hips with perfect precision. “I’m right here. I got you, baby. I got you.”

The soft part of his belly grazes your clit and you cry out into his mouth. “Oh god - I’m gonna cum.” 

“There you go, baby. Cum for me.” 

You fall apart around him, your head falling back in a silent cry to the ceiling. A buzz of electricity shutters through your whole body, your walls clenching around him harder than you thought was possible. 

“That’s it,” he says into your neck as he licks and kisses. “Let go for me.” 

His words spread more tingles along your skin, you tangle your hands in his curls and pull his face to yours. Kissing him deeply as you start to come down. He stills inside you as he comes again, sending you into a wave of aftershocks. You swallow his moans in your kisses, you never want this to end.

“Stay here honey,” Joel says, getting up to walk with wobbly legs to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth and carefully wipes you clean. Your body jolts and you cry out when he gets near your clit, he whispers apologies while drying you with a towel.

You start to get up. “Are you ok?” he questions. 

“I have to pee,” you laugh. As you wash your hands you take in your reflection. Your poor nipple is purple from the elevator, you have mascara down your face, and as you predicted, you are already bruising from his grip on your hips. You spin to see angry, dark red splotches along the globes of your ass and you smile at yourself. Fuck, is there something wrong with me? 

Even though you’re exhausted, you practically skip back out to the bed where Joel is holding a big glass of water and some soothing lotion that he purchased weeks ago for this exact moment. He laughs and shakes his head, he knows he’s in for it now seeing how happy you are with yourself. 

“Drink this and then lay on your stomach please,” adding a quick, “you little brat.” 

“So bossy.” You joke and roll your eyes, but you both love this part and as elated as you are right now, you know you need the aftercare so that your anxieties don’t get you later. So, you do as he says. You drink the water and then lay on your stomach. Joel rubs the cooling lotion on your marks and then places long, light kisses along your spine.

“How are you feeling?” He coos between kisses.

“I’m great. That was amazing. How are you feeling? I know you weren’t too sold on spanking me.”

Joel lies beside you and pulls you in, his front presses against yours, both of you using your own arm as a pillow. “Honestly, I’m surprised by how much I liked it. You looked so beautiful the entire time. I didn’t think I would like it, but….” He trails off looking slightly embarrassed, using his free hand to play with your hair. 

“But?” you push.

“But…well a man my age doesn’t get multiple orgasms very often, makin’ me feel like we’re in our 20’s again.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to act out more often. Any cute guys on the job site I can eye fuck?” 

Joel growls as he pulls you over to rest on his chest. “Mine. Now go to sleep, Little Dove. And stop saying that.” 

Tag List: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

Also a special tag for @javierpena-inatacvest because I'm not on a mission to make her a Joel girlie.

[guinea-pig16]

Yes, Sir!

Soap x Reader X Captain Price

Disclaimer: This is an NSFW piece! 18+ only, please!

Fic is below the cut, hope you enjoy! This is my first time writing a piece with more than one ship!

______________________________________________________________

Word count: 3,300+

Warnings: AFAB reader, mentions of AFAB parts, penetrative sex, anal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, threesome (F/M/M), dom/sub vibes

This fic is based off of a dream I had a couple days ago so if you think it's odd, that's why lmao

______________________________________________________________

Clinks of glasses together filled the air as everyone celebrated a mission well done. Task Force 141 had just completed their latest mission without a hitch, so Captain Price decided to treat the team with a night at their local bar. Laughter and chatter filled the cozy building. You sat at the bar, giggling with Soap, drinking your third beer of the night.

“Ye wouldn’t believe the shite he wis goin on aboot!” Soap leans his head against his arms, shaking from his laughter. “He wis sayin’ shite like ‘two goldfish ar’ inna tank’, an’ one of ‘em goes ‘ye know how to drive this thing?’” Soap’s voice goes deep as he imitates Ghost, and the two of you burst out laughing. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ghost (sitting next to Soap) glower slightly at him. Your ribs hurt as you try to contain your giggles.

“Right, what’s all this then?” You hear a voice say. Soap and you look up at Price, giving him a half hearted salute as you both come down from your laughter. 

“Ah, Johnny was just telling me something funny that Ghost said!” You smile, still slightly giggling. Price smiles at the two of you.

“I’m glad to see you both enjoying yourselves, even if it’s at the expense of our dear Lieutenant.” You see Ghost roll his eyes and lift his mask to take a sip of his drink. “You all worked very hard on our last mission, you all deserve a bit of rest and reprieve.” You smile at Price.

“Thank you captain! We couldn’t have done it without your excellent leadership.” Price waves his hand, grinning. 

“Ah, it’s nothing without a good team. Anyways, I’ll let you three get back at it.” He waves as he goes over to where Gaz and Laswell are chatting. 

Soap nudges your shoulder and leans close to your ear. “Better be careful thir, Sergeant, he wis given’ ye th’ eyes…” He giggles and you punch his arm, causing him to pull back, rubbing his where you hit him. 

“Oh, stick a sock in it, Mactavish! As if!” You rolled your eyes at his comment. You had to admit though, Captain Price was a good looking man. But you would never get with your superior. 

“Ooo, does ‘at mean yer open to other options, love?” He says in an exaggerated flirty voice as he leans close to you, batting his lashes. You bark out a laugh and shove him back causing him to go into a fit of giggles.

“Once again, stick a sock in it, Mactavish, you dog!” You break into a series of giggles with Soap. In your mind though, you look at him differently. Johnny is definitely a very attractive man, but you guys were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less…

The night flew by. At one point, Gaz had challenged you and Soap to a karaoke contest, and you three treated the bar to a drunken rendition of ‘California Girls’. Let’s just say, you were absolutely hammered. To the point Price insisted on driving you home along with Gaz. You accepted the offer, as you had walked here and didn’t feel like walking back home. Around 1 am, Price dragged you and Gaz out of the bar, yelling goodbye to Soap as he was also being dragged out by Ghost, who was his ride home. He drunkenly waved bye to you as he leaned against Ghost for support. 

Price helped you into the back seat, as Gaz had won the front sit through rock, paper, scissors. The ride to your house was filled with laughter as you and Gaz shared stories and jokes, Price silent the whole time with a soft smile on his face. Once at your house, Price wrapped an arm around you and helped you inside. He gently sat you on your couch.

“Alright, I believe you can handle the rest now.” You grinned and saluted him. He chuckled and ruffled your hair. “G’nite, dear. See you in a few days.” He said before waving goodbye, making sure the door was locked behind him as he left. 

You stretched and yawned. You stumbled slightly going down the hall to your bedroom. You changed out of your clothes and into loose fitting pajamas, before snuggling underneath your covers. You sighed contently as you drifted off to sleep…

Bang.

You jolted awake. You looked around. You were still in your bedroom, snuggled in your blankets. You groan and roll over, attempting to go back to sleep. 

Bang.

Your eyes shot open once again. You slowly lean up in your bed, looking towards your bedroom door. What was that? You think. You hear more small bangs and rustling from down the hall. Slowly, you crawl out of your bed, grabbing your phone, and inch towards the door. You wince as your door creaks when you open it. You hear the sounds stop.

You exit your room as quietly as you can, and begin inching down the hall. You reach the end of the hall and peek out towards the living room. Your heart sinks as you see two, large, black figures facing you. You squint slightly. Something about the figures seems… familiar. You hold up your phone and turn on the flashlight and shine it into the living room. You almost sigh in relief when the light reveals Soap and Price standing in your living room. You then furrow your brow. What the hell are they doing here?

You step into the living room, and take note of the open window. Did they fucking climb through the window? “What the hell are you two doing here? It’s the middle of the night.” You cross your arms and glare at the two of them. They both glance at each other and grin as if they’re in on a joke.

“There she is…” Says Soap, taking a small step closer to you. You don’t know why, but you take a step back, feeling uneasy about this whole situation. Price smiles at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Don’t run love, it’s okay…” Price says quietly, and you shiver slightly from the tone of his voice. Soap takes another step towards you, you take another step back. He and Price rake their eyes unabashedly up and down your body, causing your cheeks to heat. They take in where your night shirt has slipped down your shoulder, exposing your bra strap, where your pajama pants have sagged slightly, exposing your hips. Soap groans slightly at the sight, making your face heat even more.

“God love… Ye have no idea what ye do to us…” Soap takes another step forward, you take one backwards. He starts slowly stepping closer and closer, and out of apprehension, you walk slowly backwards back into the hall, inching towards your bedroom. Soap begins speaking in a low, husky tone.

“What ye were wearin’ tonite almos’ ‘ad me an’ Price bend ye over the bar…” You blush furiously. Soap eyes haven’t left yours once, practically burning a hole through your head. “Ye always look so intoxicatin’... The way ye sway yer hips… The way yer lips look when ye smile…” He groans lowly. “Yer a damn drug… ye know that?” His pupils are blown wide, with what you can now identify as lust. You go to take another step back, but trip on your own feet and drop your phone. You fall flat on your ass and are helpless as Soap stands before you. He crouches slowly, eyes never leaving yours. He grabs a hold on your ankles and yanks you so you’re underneath him. 

He leans down next to your ear and speaks low. “...We’re gunna fuckin’ ruin you tonite, babes…” Your whole body shivers at his words, and your face flushes red. He looks into your eyes, searching for anything that would say no. You look back at him and bite your lip lightly. He grins and slowly drags you out of the hall by your ankles, his eyes burning into your own. When you enter the living room again Price is still standing there, and you lock eyes. 

Soap drops your ankles and leans over you once again, arms caging you in. “What a pretty girl ye are…” And presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. You let out a soft moan into his mouth, and wrap your arms around his neck. You feel him move to the side as you see Price get down on his knees and lean over you, pressing a kiss to your neck. You feel his hand drift down to your waistband.

“How about we take these off, love…” Price’s hands toy with your waistband. Soap breaks the kiss long enough for you to whisper out a breathy ‘yes’, before recapturing them. He slips his tongue into your mouth as Price presses kisses along your neck and slowly slips your pajama pants downward. 

He tugs them completely off and slips down so he’s facing your underwear. Head in between your thighs, he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, causing you to let out a moan into Soap’s mouth. Soap’s hands begin slipping underneath your night shirt and upwards towards your chest. 

“May I take these off, dear?” Price asks, finger hooking underneath the waistband of your underwear. Soap breaks the kiss and asks with his eyes to take off your shirt. You breathily say yes to both, and feel your underwear being slipped off as your shirt is lifted above your head. Soap’s hands find the clasp at the front of your bra and looks at you asking. You nod, and he unclasps your bra and admires your exposed chest, before recapturing your mouth. He kneads your chest as you feel Price moving closer to your exposed heat.

“You look absolutely wonderful, love…” Price groans and licks a strip up your heat, causing you to moan into Soap’s mouth.

“That’s it love, keep makin’ those pretty sounds’ fur us…” Soap says, breaking the kiss to gaze into your eyes. Price wraps his arms around your thighs as he sucks on your clit. You gasp and squirm as he prods at your entrance with his tongue, his mouth hot on your sex. Soap takes off his shirt and grins as you rake your eyes over his chest. “Like wit ye see, lass?” He then buries his face into your neck and gently bites as you arch your back to Price’s work. 

“Doin’ so good for us, pretty girl… Gonna make sure ye can’t walk in the mornin’...” Price groans in agreement, sending vibrations into your heat. You shiver and whine as Price laps at you. You feel a knot begin to tighten in your lower belly. Price moves his efforts to your clit, and you feel one of his fingers prod at your entrance. You moan loudly as you feel his finger slip into you. You feel Soap grin against your neck. 

You gasp as Price pumps in another finger, stretching you out. You clutch onto Soap like a lifeline as your thighs shiver, causing him to chuckle.

“Careful now, Captain, ye don’ wanna break her now do ye?” If you could, you’d glare at him, but the feeling of Price’s tongue and fingers has your mind practically melting. Price says nothing, he just doubles his efforts, pumping faster and sucking harshly on you. You moan loudly, the knot in your belly tightening significantly. You’re so close. 

“Johnny… Price… ‘M so close, ah!” You slur out, your whole body trembling in pleasure.

“I know dear, I can feel ya. I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry your pretty little head…” Price says, before returning his efforts to your bud. Soap recaptures your lips in a heated kiss, his hands brushing over your chest. He sucks on your tongue, and the knot gets tighter and tighter. And then it snaps.

You moan loudly into Soap’s mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Price slows his efforts and helps you down from your high, your whole body shaking from it. Soap breaks the kiss and you gasp for air, chest heaving. Price finally pulls away from you, and you glance up at him, his beard glistening from his work. He and Soap glanced at each other and began undressing in front of you. Once stripped to their boxers, Soap and Price switched. Soap knelt between your legs, and Price knelt behind you, gently sitting you up and leaning you against his chest. Soap gently rubbed your thighs and looked you in the eyes as he removed his boxers. His cock sprung out and your eyes widened as you took in its length. He grinned and grabbed your legs.

“Liking what yer seein’, doll?” You rolled your eyes at his comment, and flicked his shoulder with your hand. Price and Soap chuckled and he began positioning his shaft to your entrance. He looked in your eyes for any objection, but you just nodded and whispered it was okay to continue. Nodding, he gently pressed his tip to your entrance, the both of you letting out a soft groan. Slowly, he pushed into you, making him curse at your tightness and causing you to lean your head back on Price’s shoulder, who leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“You’re being such a good girl for us, dear.” He whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver. Soap bottomed out and stayed there for a moment, huffing. Slowly, he pulled out, and then thrusted back in, making the two of you gasp. A delicious burn traveled through you as he gently thrusted in and out. The burn gave way to immeasurable pleasure as you let out moan after moan for each thrust. 

“Johnny… Fast- Faster… Please…” You moaned, head laid back on Price���s shoulder. 

Soap chuckled slightly, groaning. “Anythin’ ye want, pretty girl.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, sitting up. And then he began pounding into you, causing you to cry out. He huffed and moaned into your ear, holding you close. The knot in your belly formed again and tightened slowly, making you curl your toes. 

“Aww, Price… Yer lookin’ awfully lonely over there…” Soap cooed, grinning. He stopped thrusting into you and you whined at the loss of friction. “Easy there, lass… Thought we should include our Captain… Whit’d ye think, love? Should we?” You dumbly nodded your head, wanting more than anything for Soap to continue pounding into you. You heard Price groan lowly, and the sound of clothes shuffling. Then you felt hands grabbing your ass, and a finger poke into your hole. You gasped at the feeling, and moaned as Price pumped in his finger, stretching out your entrance. You tucked your head into Soap’s neck, and whined as Price put in another finger, then a third.

“There’s a good girl… Doing so good…” Price whispered in your ear, making you whimper. Price removed his fingers, and you felt his cock tease the entrance of your ass. “This is gonna be a bit uncomfortable, darling. Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow…” Price kissed your neck, and slowly began to push in. You winced slightly at the stretch, and Soap pressed a kiss on your head and rubbed your back soothingly. Price gripped your waist like a lifeline, and hissed as he bottomed out. The three of you sat there for a moment as you caught your breath, adjusting to the feeling of the two men inside you. You’d never felt so full before.

Finally, after a couple minutes, you spoke. “O-Okay… You can… You can move now…” You wrapped your arms around Soaps neck, face still buried in his neck. You felt Soap smile into your hair, and Price rubbed your waist affectionately. They both slowly pulled out and pushed back in. The air was filled with low groans and breathy moans as the two men slowly pumped into you. Your nails dug into Soap’s shoulders.

“Ah… Faster, please…” You moaned, feeling the knot tighten once more in your belly.

“Ye sure, babes? Don’t wanna… hah… hurt ye…” Soap groaned. You heard Price make a noise of agreement. You whined slightly.

“Please… You won’t hurt me, please… I need more…” Soap and Price groaned at the sound of your neediness.

“Whatever you want, love.” Price said, before the two of them began harshly thrusting into you. You practically screamed at the feeling. They both moaned loudly at the way you clenched around them. 

“Thas’ it, thas’ a good girl. Takin’ us so well.” Soap groaned in your ear, lightly biting your earlobe. All you could do was moan in response, brain turned to mush by the two men. You were sandwiched between them, being used as their own personal fuck toy. And you love it. It was a dream come true. You felt their thrusts become sloppy, their moans stuttering slightly. You could feel your own release coming as well.

“Johnny, Price, So- So close! ‘M gonna, ah!” You moaned. You felt one of Price’s hands come up and grip the back of your neck. He pulled your neck back so you were looking at him.

“Go ahead, come on our cocks, love.” He pulled you into a heated kiss. You whined into his mouth as the knot got tighter and tighter. Soap threw his head back, his thrusts getting even sloppier, and he let out a slew of curses.

You let out high pitched moan after moan, the knot getting unbelievably tight. Any second now… You were almost there. Your head felt lighter and lighter, and a ringing started in your ears, washing out the moans of Soap and Price. You were so close. It was about to snap, you were so close you could taste it. And then it snapped and-

BDING!

You jolted.

Your eyes popped open and you squinted. Sunlight filtered into your room through your curtains, hinting it was early afternoon. You sat up, looking around, blinking quickly. Everything was in place from last night, your clothes laying on the floor. You looked down. You were still in your pajamas. You scratched your head, confused. You crawled out of bed and walked down the hall, hesitantly. You peeked into the living room. It was normal. The window was latched and closed. There wasn’t a pillow out of place.

“What the fuck…?” You mumbled. Was that all… a dream?

BDING! 

You turned your head back to your bedroom. Was that your phone…? You walked back to your room and grabbed your phone.

You had a couple unread texts from Soap.

You opened your phone and read his shitty typing. He was asking if you wanted to come hangout with him, Ghost, and Gaz today. They were going to see a movie and then walk around town a bit. 

“Ony if yer not so hammered from last nite lol.” He typed. You rolled your eyes and texted back that you’d meet up with them at the movie theater. A couple minutes later, he texted back with the time they’re meeting. You agreed and said you’d see them there. You then sat your phone on your bed and stared at the wall.

Memories of your dream drifted back into your mind and you blushed slightly. What was that all about…? You didn’t have any feelings for either of them… you thought you didn’t at least. You shook your head. You only had a couple hours before you had to meet up with the others. So you took a cold shower and changed into a casual outfit.

You walked down the hall and glanced at the living room, your dream drifting to the front of your mind. Your face flushed and you shook your head once again, trying to clear it. 

With that, you grabbed your keys and headed out, making sure to lock your door behind you. Hopefully, you could forget about it today.

What a weird fucking dream.

______________________________________________________________

Thanks so much for reading !!!! This was my first time writing a threesome, so I hope you liked it !!! I was giggling and kicking my feet the entire time while writing LMAO !!! It was such a weird dream, I'd never had one like that before. And funny thing is, I was reading COD fics before bed that night but it had NOTHING to do with Soap and Price, so I have no clue why they showed up. Anyways, thanks for reading !! Ciao!! <3 <3

XOXOXOXOX <3

[wethotcrazy]

SYMPATHY IS A KNIFE (v)

pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 3143

part 5. WE ARE IN SINGAPORE. anyways lets be real Yn probably isn't gonna be taking any P1s just yet but this is like next best thing. this is a long one!!

part i part ii part iii part iv

As Yn and Yuki landed in Singapore, a wave of excitement washed over them. The vibrant city sprawled out beneath them, illuminated with shimmering lights and the promise of adventure. They had arrived a bit early, eager to explore before the chaotic energy of race weekend took over. Yn felt a thrill at the thought of wandering through the bustling streets, tasting the local cuisine, and soaking up the atmosphere without the usual pressures of competition hanging over their heads.

Once they checked into their hotel, they headed out, laughing as they navigated the lively streets of Clarke Quay. The sounds of laughter and music enveloped them, and the smell of delicious food wafted through the air, making Yn’s stomach rumble. They stopped at a food stall, trying everything from satay to spicy noodle dishes. Yuki’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he challenged her to eat a particularly spicy chili, his laughter ringing out as she gasped and grabbed for her drink.

Between bites, they chatted about everything from their plans for the race to their favorite things about being in such a lively city. Yuki’s playful banter lightened the weight that often rested on Yn’s shoulders, reminding her that they were more than just drivers—they were friends navigating the same tumultuous world of Formula 1.

They wandered through the bustling streets, marveling at the towering skyscrapers and neon lights that danced against the backdrop of the night sky. Yn loved how alive everything felt—the rhythmic pulse of the city seemed to mirror her own heart, full of anticipation and joy. Indulging in some local street food—Yuki claiming he would conquer the spiciest dish they could find—they set out to explore the famous Gardens by the Bay. The breathtaking scenery enveloped them as they strolled through the Supertree Grove, the towering tree-like structures glowing in brilliant colors as the sun began to set. The atmosphere felt surreal, and they found themselves lost in the beauty of the moment, their worries fading away as they enjoyed the simplicity of being together.

As the night wore on, they ran into a few fans who were quick to approach them, excited but respectful. The fans were polite, asking for selfies and expressing their support. Yn felt a rush of warmth at their kind words; it was a reminder that people saw her for who she was, not just a driver. Yuki, ever the charmer, engaged with them effortlessly, his natural charisma shining through. They posed for photos, and Yn couldn’t help but notice how comfortable and at ease he was, making sure everyone felt included and appreciated.

Online, the moments they shared throughout the day sparked chatter among fans. Videos and pictures circulated, highlighting their genuine laughter and connection, with many commenters buzzing about how close they seemed.

@F1Lovebirds: “Yn and Yuki are seriously the cutest! I love their energy!”

@GridGoddess: “Anyone else think they’d make a great couple? They just vibe so well!”

@RacingRomantics: “I want what they have. I can’t handle how sweet they are!”

Yn scrolled through the comments later that night, her heart swelling at the support and admiration they were receiving. But she also felt a pang of vulnerability—speculation about their relationship made her wonder how much of their friendship would be perceived through the lens of romance. Part of her enjoyed the attention, but another part wished for the freedom to simply be without the added scrutiny.

“Hey, all good?” Yuki asked as they settled down at a cozy café for a late-night snack, the soft glow of fairy lights overhead creating an intimate atmosphere.

“Just thinking about stuff,” Yn admitted, her voice quiet. “I mean… I love that people are excited about us, but sometimes it feels a little overwhelming, you know?”

Yuki leaned back in his chair, considering her words. “I get it. But we’re just having fun. What they think doesn’t change that. They could say whatever they want.”

His words brought a smile to her face. “Yeah, it’s just nice to have this time together, just us.”

They spent the rest of the evening sharing stories, laughter spilling between them like the vibrant city lights outside. Yn realized that moments like these were invaluable—a reminder of why they were both in this sport, why they fought through the pressures, the scrutiny, and the expectations. It wasn’t just about racing; it was about the connections they forged, the support they offered one another, and the joy they found in every shared experience.

As they wrapped up their evening and strolled back toward their hotel, the city humming around them, Yn felt a renewed sense of determination. Here, amidst the wonders of Singapore, she felt freer than she had in a long time. She was carving out her own narrative, one that was as complex and vibrant as the city itself—and Yuki was right there with her, cheering her on every step of the way.

The start of race weekend in Singapore was proving to be more challenging than Yn had anticipated. It was her first time racing on this particular circuit, and the high humidity mixed with the sweltering heat made the already hectic schedule feel even more overwhelming. The relentless sun beat down on her during practice, and she quickly realized just how demanding the conditions would be for both her and the car.

From the moment she stepped into the paddock, it was a whirlwind of activity. Briefings filled with strategy discussions, meetings with her team to go over data from the simulator, media obligations that left little room for downtime—each day blurred into the next. Press conferences were particularly grueling, especially when the questions turned toward her performance as a female driver in a male-dominated sport. While she knew the media was just doing their job, the scrutiny felt like a weight pressing down on her shoulders, a reminder that every misstep would be amplified.

During practice sessions, Yn had been determined to find her rhythm on the track, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that simmered beneath the surface. Each lap was a test of her skill and focus, yet the oppressive heat and humidity started to wear on her. She found herself snapping at her engineers during discussions over telemetry data, the frustration bubbling up unexpectedly. “Can we please just focus on what I need instead of going over every single detail?” she’d said sharply during one debrief, immediately regretting the edge in her tone.

Yuki, who had been observing her during the practices, approached her after one particularly intense session. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle yet concerned. “You seem a bit on edge.”

Yn took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I’m fine, just... it’s a lot, you know? New circuit, media obligations, and this heat. It’s just getting to me.” She brushed her hair back, the damp strands sticking to her forehead, the sweat making her feel sticky and uncomfortable.

Yuki nodded, understanding. “It’s a tough weekend for everyone, but I think you’re doing great. Just remember to breathe. You’ve got this.” His words were a soothing balm, and she felt a flicker of gratitude toward him.

Despite her frustrations, Yn was resolute about performing well in qualifying and race day. She pushed the worries aside and channeled her energy into the upcoming sessions. Each time she sat in the car, she felt a surge of adrenaline wash over her, the familiar thrill of racing reminding her why she loved the sport.

As the weekend progressed, she began to adapt to the unique challenges of the circuit, finding her groove with each passing lap. But with each session, the pressure seemed to mount. She kept replaying the conversations in her head, the constant reminders of the expectations placed upon her, not just from her team but from the world watching. The heat felt stifling, but so did the weight of being a female driver in Formula 1, a spotlight on her every move.

On the evening before qualifying, Yn found a moment of respite on the balcony of her hotel room, gazing out at the shimmering skyline of Singapore. The lights from the buildings twinkled like stars against the night sky, a stark contrast to the turmoil in her mind. She took a deep breath, allowing the cool breeze to refresh her spirit, feeling the adrenaline mix with a flicker of hope.

“Hey,” Yuki’s voice broke her reverie as he joined her on the balcony, holding two glasses of water. “Thought you could use this. Plus, I wanted to check in on you before qualifying tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the glass from him. “I really appreciate it.”

Yuki leaned against the railing beside her, both of them taking in the view. “You know, it’s okay to feel stressed. This place is intense, and it’s your first time here. But just remember that you’re capable of handling it. Focus on what you can control.”

She turned to him, the warmth of his presence easing some of her tension. “I know. I... I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

“You won’t. You’ll do great” he encouraged, and the sincerity in his tone lifted a weight from her chest.

As they talked, Yn felt herself relaxing, the pressures of the day melting away. They reminisced about their earlier adventures in the city, laughing at their stupid jokes and how spicy Yuki had dared to go with his food. In that moment, surrounded by the bright lights and his comforting presence, she felt a renewed sense of determination wash over her.

Qualifying day had set the stage, the pressure mounting in the relentless heat of Singapore. Yn and Yuki had pushed themselves to the limits, battling through the oppressive humidity and the fierce competition. The cars had roared to life, and in the sweltering atmosphere, both drivers managed to secure places in Q3—a promising start that filled them with excitement and anticipation for race day.

Race day, however, proved to be even more intense. Yn felt the sweat trickle down her back as she climbed into her car, her mind honed in on the task ahead. The heat weighed heavily on everyone, and it was evident in the aggressive driving style both she and Yuki adopted. They were in it to win, and every radio communication crackled with urgency and determination.

As the lights went out, Yn launched off the grid, heart pounding in rhythm with the roaring engines around her. The initial laps blurred together in a haze of speed and precision. She navigated the twists and turns of the circuit, feeling the g-forces push her into her seat as she fought to maintain her position. Yuki was right there with her, their racing instincts aligned, pushing each other in a way that felt instinctive and electric.

The race unfolded with its share of challenges—overtakes, near misses, and the constant pressure of the cars behind them. Yn found herself in a fierce battle for points, each lap a test of strategy and skill. As the laps counted down, the heat and humidity intensified, leaving the drivers drenched in sweat and fatigue. Yet, she thrived on it, her hunger for success driving her to dig deeper. Yuki, too, was relentless, each maneuver echoing his fierce determination to prove himself on the world stage.

As the final laps approached, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Yn could feel her heart racing in time with the countdown, the roar of the crowd a distant background to her single-minded focus. When she crossed the finish line, the realization took a moment to sink in. 

Her engineer’s voice broke through the adrenaline haze, congratulating her with uncontainable excitement. “Yn, you’ve finished P3! Amazing job!”

Overjoyed, Yn barely registered the rest of the world around her as she climbed out of the car. The buzz of the pit lane enveloped her, her team rushing to congratulate her, their faces beaming with pride. She thanked them, her voice shaky with emotion, but her joy turned to elation when she spotted Yuki.

Without thinking, she ran straight into his arms, and he spun them both around, laughter spilling from their lips. “You did it! I’m so proud of you!” he exclaimed, the joy evident in his eyes.

“I can’t believe it! Thank you for being such a great teammate!�� Yn replied, her heart soaring as they embraced. This moment, so filled with raw emotion and camaraderie, was quickly captured by the ever-watchful cameras, fans, and reporters.

As they parted, Yuki beamed at her, his energy infectious. Then giving her a final encouraging pat on the back before she headed toward the cool-down room.

Back in the paddock, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement as footage of their spontaneous celebration spread like wildfire on social media. Fans captured the genuine connection between the two drivers, their laughter echoing through the comments sections.

“#YNYuki: The duo we didn’t know we needed!” one fan tweeted, accompanied by clips of their embrace.

“Can we talk about how supportive Yuki is? This is what we love to see!” another comment read, reflecting the admiration fans felt toward their bond.

As Yn prepared for her first podium appearance, she felt a mix of nerves and elation. The cameras were flashing, and the cheers of the crowd were a sweet symphony. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, reminding herself of the long journey that had led her here—the sacrifices, the struggles, the relentless hunger for success that had driven her forward.

When she stepped onto the podium, the weight of the trophy in her hands felt like the culmination of all her hard work. She stood tall, beaming at the crowd, soaking in the moment as the British national anthem played. Yuki stood in the crowd, his pride radiating, and as the winners lifted their trophies, Yn felt a sense of belonging wash over her.

This was her moment. Not just as a female driver in a male-dominated sport, but as a driver who had proven herself time and time again. The hunger for success had fueled her journey, and with Yuki by her side, she felt ready to face whatever came next. Together, they had carved out a space where they could thrive, and as the crowd cheered, Yn knew this was just the beginning of what they could achieve.

After Yn’s exhilarating P3 finish, the adrenaline from the race still coursed through her veins, but there was little time to bask in the glory. Media obligations awaited, a whirlwind of interviews, press conferences, and flashing cameras that always accompanied a podium finish. As she walked into the media center, her heart raced—not from the pressure of the spotlight, but from the sheer thrill of her achievement.

Surprisingly, the press conferences went smoothly. Journalists were eager to hear from her, and Yn found herself responding with a confidence she hadn’t anticipated. Questions ranged from her race strategy to her thoughts on the heat of Singapore, and each inquiry felt less like an interrogation and more like an opportunity to share her journey.

“Yn, what was going through your mind as you crossed the finish line?” one reporter asked, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

“I honestly couldn’t believe it!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “I was just focused on giving it my all, and to end up on the podium? It’s a dream come true. I’ve worked so hard for this, and I couldn’t have done it without my amazing team.”

Throughout the press conferences, Yn noticed how the other drivers had rallied around her, offering their congratulations. Max, Lando, and even Charles made a point to praise her performance, their camaraderie palpable. Their kind words felt like validation, a warm reminder that while competition was fierce, the respect among drivers ran deep.

“Great drive out there, Yn!” Lando said, grinning widely as he shook her hand. “You made it look easy!”

“Thanks, Lando! You weren’t too shabby yourself,” she replied, her tone playful.

Afterward, she took a moment to step aside, pulling out her phone to call her parents. As it rang, she felt a wave of excitement wash over her. They had supported her from the very beginning, believing in her even when the world sometimes didn’t.

“Hey, Mom! Dad!” she exclaimed when her mother picked up. “You won’t believe it! I finished P3 in Singapore!”

There was a moment of silence before her mother’s delighted shriek filled the line. “Oh my goodness! Yn, that’s incredible! We are so proud of you!”

Her dad chimed in, “I knew you could do it! You’ve been working so hard, and it’s all paying off!”

The conversation was filled with laughter and tears of joy as Yn recounted the highlights of the race, the adrenaline, and the thrill of standing on the podium. She could picture their proud smiles, imagining her mother jumping up and down in excitement.

After hanging up, a sense of warmth enveloped her. With her family cheering her on from afar, she felt unstoppable. As the media obligations wrapped up, Yn rejoined Yuki and a few of the other drivers for a quiet celebration.

They headed to a local restaurant, the atmosphere buzzing with energy yet providing a cozy escape from the chaos of the race weekend. Yn found herself seated next to Yuki, who was still riding high on the adrenaline of the race.

“You were amazing out there, too,” she told him, raising her glass to toast their achievements. “P5 is no small feat in that heat.”

“Thanks,” Yuki replied, his smile genuine as he clinked his glass against hers. “But honestly, watching you up there on the podium—there’s no one more deserving. You’ve worked so hard, and I’m really proud of you.”

“You too! I couldn’t have asked for a better teammate,” she replied, feeling the bond between them deepen.

As the evening wore on, laughter filled the air. The group shared stories, exchanged playful jabs, and recounted their race strategies. Yn couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so at ease—this was what she had longed for: a chance to celebrate her hard work with friends who understood the pressures of their world.

Social media buzzed with excitement, fans sharing clips and highlights from the day’s events, while hashtags like #YNOnThePodium and #TeamTsunoda trended. There was a sense of unity among the fans, a community that celebrated each driver’s achievements and supported them through the pressures of the sport.

As they settled into the rhythm of the night, Yn realized this was more than just a celebration of her P3 finish; it was a reminder of how far she had come. She had faced doubts and challenges, but with each race, she carved out a place for herself in a world that had often felt overwhelming. In a good way.

[gor3sigil]

Detransition - My Story

[CW for Domestic Abuse, S*xual Abuse, Social Detransition, Misgendering, Alcoholism]

Recently, I watched “I Saw the TV Glow”, and it blew me away.

The ending really made me want to tell a story that happened to me.

Between the end of 2020 until the end of 2021, I detransitionned, mostly socially as I hadn’t started transitionning medically at the time. I did so because of many factors, and I never really wrote about it in details or reflected on it deeply as it was a very hard time for me. But I think that I now have enough hindsight as to why it happened and how it affected me to be comfortable sharing.

So, 2020 was a crazy year for everyone. I was in a T4T poly relationship, living with my partner of almost 5 years and started to go out with another trans dude. Long story short, because this isn’t about this, but I got into a physical altercation with my living partner during quarantine after years of emotional and verbal abuse, financial manipulation and isolation. I had to flee and live with my boyfriend for almost 8 months after leaving. And it was hell on earth.

I tried to not make a big deal out of what happened, but the fact of the matter was I had no place to call home, I was separated from my cat because she couldn’t live with us as my boyfriend’s place was a one room student flat and we struggled to live both of us here, and I had very little money due to not being able to work because of Covid.

What happened next to me leaving was constant harassment for weeks, the people whom I called friends siding with my abusive ex, and I felt so defeated. I couldn’t go back to my local trans community out of fear, and the community that I still had I struggled to trust again. I was supposed to start HRT before Covid hit, but it was cancelled. I got so much shit for just telling my story because so many people treated it as “slander” to accuse a trans woman of abusing me. I had receipts but never showed them, to protect her and myself. While she hurt me, she still was in a vulnerable position and it was out of the question to put her in danger. Let’s just say that I didn’t receive the same treatment in return and got lied about, harassed and bullied by people who thought she could do no wrong.

I started to totally lose trust in the community I used to feel safe in. And one day, I met a cis man. I talked to him, we got a coffee, he invited me to his place later, he got drunk and SAd me.

Two weeks passed, two excruciating weeks during which I felt so far away from everything and everyone, I coped by smoking a lot, I was in a deep dissociative state. I was disgusted, I felt so betrayed, I felt like I had no safe space. I still can’t explain why I did what I did, but after these two weeks, I still had the hoodie he handed me to go home, and I decided to meet him to give it back and talk.

He gaslighted me, using the fact that I was mentally ill to prove that I must have imagined what happened, and I believed him.

Meanwhile, I started getting nasty comments from my boyfriend and his friends for going out with a cis man.

Let me say that again.

My boyfriend was not upset that I was putting myself in danger, that I was starting a relationship with someone who had abused me, that I was in deep distress and not trusting anyone from my community anymore so I basically ran the other way, in the polar opposite way, with someone who treated me like a woman and called my desire for top surgery “mutilation”. What he was the most upset about was that I was going out with a cis man.

I became a running joke.

And when I told him that I had slept with my new boyfriend, he told me that I had “slept with the enemy”.

We had a two weeks break, after which I broke up with him for good. I had my own flat, and I was so fucking traumatized about what had happened with my ex and the vitriol I received for my new relationship that I decided it was enough. I was trying so hard to fit in my local trans community, that barely supported me when I got abused, and now what was left of it shat on me for going out with a cis man, it was the last straw.

For a year, I was having the most isolated relationship I ever had.

J, my new boyfriend, was my world. He told me that I thought I was trans out of fear. That it was a lie. That I just was scared of being abused again so I decided that to become a man was to be safe, but it was not. That all I felt was internalized misogyny I could work on, find my inner feminine self again and be happy as a woman. And I believed him. Oh, how I trusted him. I was not even in my mid twenties yet and he was in his early thirties, he must know better. I started using my deadname and feminine pronouns again. I bought dresses, skirts, even wore make up on occasions.

For a year, I killed myself. Slowly but surely. I was a full blown alcoholic, the relationship was becoming more and more abusive and isolating, I spent most of my time with him, most of the time we were drunk, most of the time things weren’t consensual, and it became my new normal.

I was retraumatizing myself. Relieving things I lived in the past because I felt so betrayed.

I had no friends left, the only one I still had didn’t hear about me until the end of my relationship with J. One time I saw her in the street, I was drunk, and J corrected her when she called me “he”. Said it was “she” now. And I said nothing.

We were in a poly relationship, and after the one year mark, after a few traumatizing hookups with random dudes on Tinder, I found my current partner. And when I started to get treated like I deserved to be, I started to snap back. I started fighting back when J acted out, I started seeing the dark place I was in.

Two things made me realize how bad I had been lying to myself.

The first one was a TikTok trend, the one with the song “My Little Dark Age”. The first time I saw a trans man doing this trend with photos of him being himself, then going back to the closet, and in present times, out. “Just know that if you hide, it doesn’t go away”. I sobbed uncontrollably for hours after seeing it.

The second one was one time, drunk, with my partner, I was telling them about the “time where I was trans”. And I was telling them about binders, and offered to show them how it was when I was wearing it. I had thrown away everything I had related to being trans in a cardboard box. I took it out and put it on. Looked at myself in the mirror. And burst out in tears. My partner hold me while I said in between sobs: “how could I do this to myself ?”, “it feels so right, why does it feels so right ? I though I’d be happy as a woman !”. And I cried and cried and cried.

Two weeks later I changed my name again. 2 months after, I broke up with J.

I wanted to tell this story as a cautionnary one. I know that I failed myself. But I can’t help but think that I was also failed in a way. By my community, by the spaces I was in both online and IRL. I am not blaming the individuals. This isn’t about “detransition”. This is about care.

This is a reminder to care. To be kind.

I don’t regret what happened. It’s part of me now. But sometimes I can’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out if, instead of making fun of me for going out with a cis man, my then friends would’ve asked me kindly why I decided to go out with him. What changed in my mind between the night he SAd me and now. Or just offered a shoulder to cry on. What would’ve happened if I had been offered support for the trauma I was going through, if I hadn’t been told that in the end, J had won, he “have gotten what he wanted”.

“Why is it always so easy for cis men, to get what they want ?”

And in these statements, I became an object. A “want”. And I think that’s one of the main reason I lost every ounce of trust I had left in people who swore they were on my side and had my back.

You may not understand why people make some decisions. But please, before any politics get involved, remember than whose around you are people. Human. With complicated and sometimes conflicting feelings. Flawed. And worthy of your understanding.

This is about not letting politics and theories make you forget to care for one another, to protect each other, and to be here. It can change everything.

[solaria-creates]

Hello, my dear friend 🌟

I am Mahmoud Jihad from Gaza, currently living in a flimsy tent after my home and university were completely destroyed, along with my PC and my city. I was studying Information Technology while caring for my sick father and siblings, but now all my hopes seem shattered. 😢

As we face this devastating crisis, I am raising funds to help my family escape from Gaza and to continue my studies abroad 🎓. Every day is a struggle, and your support can make a significant difference in our lives ❤️.

My GoFundMe campaign has been verified by @beesandwatermelons ✅ #190.

Please consider sharing, liking, commenting, or donating, even a small amount 🙏.

Your help could be the turning point that saves my family and helps us survive in this harsh and relentless war 😔.

GoFundMe link: https://gofund.me/463cbf01

Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🌹

Please go support Mahmoud Jehad's campaign in any way possible!! Whether that be reblogging this post, donating whatever you feasibly can, contacting your local politicians about ceasefire, or spreading the word in your circles, we can all do our part to help these people experiencing something I can barely fathom. Below is the description pulled directly from the linked gofundme, please read and reblog!

Currently $2,341USD raised of $25,000 goal

Help Mahmoud Jehad and his family to leave Gaza to study and escape the Gaza war .

My name is Mahmoud Jehad, and I am a 21-year-old from Gaza. Like many others, my life was turned upside down due to the ongoing conflict in my homeland. I am currently displaced in Deir al-Balah after my home in Khan Yunis was completely destroyed along with my entire city.

Before the war, I was a student pursuing a degree in Information Technology at Gaza University. I had dreams and aspirations, but everything changed when the university was bombed and all classes were suspended. Additionally, the airstrikes not only ravaged my home but also destroyed my personal computer, which I relied on for my studies and staying connected with the world.

Now, I am living in a makeshift tent in a displacement camp, with nothing but a thin layer of fabric to protect me from the elements. The situation is dire, as my father is sick and my brother is undergoing treatment, leaving me to care for my family while struggling with my own challenges. We have been without water, electricity, and access to healthy food for the past 10 months. I feel a deep responsibility to support my family and help rebuild our home in Khan Yunis, even though we currently reside in the makeshift tent community.

Despite these hardships, I refuse to give up on my education and future. I believe knowledge is the key to rebuilding not only my life but also my community. Unfortunately, I lack the resources to continue my studies outside of Gaza, where I could access better educational opportunities and safety.

I have created this GoFundMe campaign to seek your support. Your generous donations will assist me in leaving Gaza to pursue my education, enabling me to acquire the skills necessary to help my family and our home in Khan Yunis recover from the devastation we have faced.

Every contribution, no matter how small, will make a significant difference in my life. Your kindness can help me turn my dreams into reality and bring hope to a shattered future.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story and for your support. Together, we can make a difference.

With gratitude,

I am Renee Hassert, living in USA, and I am running this campaign to raise funds for Mahmoud and his family. I will transfer the donations to his Palestinian bank account after receiving them.

[originalleftist]

Musk hired spies to surveil his critics and girlfriend.

Highlights:

"One of those critics is Vernon Unsworth, who sued Musk in 2018 for calling him a "pedo guy" on Twitter. A new Tortoise investigation reveals that the scale of surveillance used against Unsworth was greater than previously known: Musk used at least two sets of private investigators, both of which used deception to try to gather information."

"Musk deployed private investigators to follow a Tesla employee "24 hours a day". A former security operative at Tesla alleges the company also hacked into the employee's phone. Other whistleblowers also allege that they were followed."

"Unbeknownst to Unsworth, Musk's tam then paid about $50,000 to a private investigator called James Howard-Higgins to dig up dirt on Unsworth. Howard-Higgins promised that he would go through Unsworth's bins, pose as a charity worker to get information, and infiltrate his partner's Facebook page.

No due diligence. A Google search would have revealed that Howard-Higgins was a fraudster, jailed in 2016 for stealing from his own company. As the US trial, which Musk won by portraying his Twitter comments as a joke, his team portrayed Howard-Higgins as a one-off. In fact another investigation firm called Orion was also tasked with getting information on Unsworth. Emails show how Orion emailed one of Unsworth's friends, telling him, incorrectly, that they were "working on behalf of Vernon"."

"Musk allegedly placed his former partner Amber Heard under surveillance in Australia having become suspicious that she was cheating on him.

Around the same time a local newspaper received an anonymous tip that an Aussie Rules footballer was "spending many nights at Amber Heard's house" and "leaving early in the morning looking like the cat that swallowed the canary".

The paper traced the message to SpaceX, one of Musk's companies.

When one of its reporters spoke to Musk, he accepted that someone close to him had sent the tip but claimed it was done without his knowledge.

"My personal belief is that [Musk] definitely sent it," says the reporter, Sally Coates."

I've seen other outlets claim that Musk used infrared technology to spy on Heard's home and detect any movement inside, but can't confirm this from a source I consider credible.

Anyway, reminder that Muskrat is a serial domestic abuser and sexual predator as well as a fascist, that his supposed support for "free speech" (as always with the Right) just means "freedom for me to say whatever I want with no consequences, and no one else has freedom to disagree with or criticize me", and that how he conducts himself in his private life and in his businesses is mirrored in his goals for society as a whole.

Also, that this "genius" is so incompetent that he couldn't even use Google for two minutes before hiring a convicted con man.

(Addendum: I know a lot of people have accused Tortoise Media of being part of some grand Right-wing/transphobic conspiracy, but so far as I've found that's mostly desperate Neil Gaiman fans trying to make out that the accusations against him by multiple unconnected women, that he partly admitted to and others in the industry corroborated, are a vast Conservative conspiracy to frame him for being pro-trans. In other words- ridiculous and misogynist. Tortoise has some credibility issues of being fairly new, without much of an established track record and, like many major media outlets, having big business money behind it. But also, far Right psy-op outlets probably aren't inclined to write detailed exposes on Elon Musk and the Saudi Royals.)

[thenightfolknetwork]

Ever since I was young, I was raised to be a total blank slate. No interests, no aesthetics, nothing. I was meant to be the vessel to L’Gogamet, the Hallowed One. So, that meant I had to fully give myself over to Them.

The only problem is: They never bothered to show up. I sat there, on my eighteenth birthday, waiting for Them to rend my soul from my flesh, only to receive a burning blaze of light reading “sorry, can’t make it, save the next one for me.”

My family wasn’t exactly thrilled. They were under the impression that I had done something wrong, though for the life of me I have no clue what it was. And now, I’m all alone. I have no clue what I’m meant to do.

I have a small apartment and a roommate. I’ve tried to get interested in the same stuff she likes, but it honestly just doesn’t appeal to me. But I have no clue what there is that I do like. Apparently, outside of my family, there isn’t exactly a “L’Gogamet fanbase”, and that was the only thing I was allowed to be interested in for my whole life.

I’ve gone to support groups, but sitting in a circle with other blank slates doesn’t exactly feel helpful. And then when someone does find something interesting, I’m like “wow! good for you! time to go back to doing nothing with my life.”

Worst of all are the modifications. My family took it upon themselves to alter me in a few ways, various piercings and tattoos that They should have loved. Only now, I’m stuck with them. And most of them are cursed to never be removed. I’ve been called out a few times, told that they’re “appropriative for a Sapio like me to have.” That hurt more than most comments, because I guess that’s all I am now. A Sapio, with nothing special about me except the disgusting markings all over me.

Your show came up in one of the support group meetings. I thought maybe you would have some advice? How do I find my interests and my self when I’ve been raised to be a nobody?

I'm so sorry your family have treated you with such unkindness – and I don't only mean their failure to support you after their plans went awry. It was profoundly unkind of them to raise you the way they did, as if you were nothing but a vessel for their hopes and aspirations and not your own person.

Their treatment of your body is particularly upsetting. I am certainly not going to try and tell you that your markings aren't “disgusting”, or to tell you how you ought to feel about your own body. I do encourage you to take whatever steps you feel appropriate in reclaiming your body, however.

Part of this reclamation might involve covering or removing the marks inflicted on you by your family. But I encourage you to experiment with other ways of changing your appearance, too. Play around with your clothing, hairstyles, hair colour, make-up – whatever you can think of.

The point isn't to find a style that you love, but rather to demonstrate actively to yourself that this body is yours, your own, and that finally, you are in charge of how it looks.

Of course, this process does bump up against your initial question rather. How are you supposed to know what sort of choices you want to make when you've never been allowed to make that kind of choice before?

The answer may seem obvious: you need to try as many things as you can, and expose yourself to as many new experiences as possible. But for the time being, I want you try and set aside your concerns about finding what you “really” like.

That is a huge amount of pressure to put on yourself, especially when you're starting from scratch, like you are. Instead, go into these activities with no more pressure on yourself than a sense of open curiosity.

You're not on some great quest to discover your True Self – you're just popping into the local book club to see what it's like, or borrowing some knitting needles from a friend and giving it a go. You can check what clubs and events are running at your local library, and make a game of trying as many as you can fit into your schedule.

Give yourself time. Imagine your personality as a plant that has been left in a dark, cold room with nothing to feed it and no light to help it grow. Against all odds, it has survived – pale and stunted, but alive. Now imagine you bring that plant into a warm, bright room, you feed it and water it, and above all you give it the space it needs. Who knows what kind of beautiful thing it might blossom into?

Finally, a word on your identity. Reader, you absolutely don't have to identify as sapio if you don't want to. There are plenty of people who consider themselves to be people of the night based on their magical practice, their religious background, or their occupations. You personal experiences more than qualify you to do the same.

As I've said many times before, liminality is defined by the people who claim it. There isn't an external, objective standard of “strangeness” that you have to meet in order to be a member of the community. Anyone who says otherwise is at best dangerously ignorant and at worst, wilfully so.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[thorgans-guide-to-thedas]

Can you guys re-imagine the culture(s) of the Chasind?

Hey anon!

That's a fantastic suggestion! Our campaigns have been taking place mostly in northern Thedas, so we didn't even have Chasind people/Kocari Wilds on the map yet, but you're so right. I didn't know much about the Chasind before reading up on the Bioware Wiki (BW for short) and.....yooof.

We'll definitely do a more thought-out and 'official' entry, but since a lot of our re-imaginings move at a snail's pace, I'll share some of our immediate thoughts after discussing this:

Geography:

It's giving BIG bayou vibes, and we're taking that and running with it, nodding at inspiration of early Black-American culture that emerges in the southern USA and the greater Caribbean Islands. Visuals of the Florida Everglades and Bayou Bartholomew in Arkansas, with a majority of the villages being built on stilts or the massive trees that are similar to the ones seen in the Frostback Basin (Jaws of Hakkon DLC specifically). There are settlements on more solid land, but most of the population and the 'civilians' live inside the swamp, as the tricky terrain doubles as protection and security.

The People:

Based off the BW, we're seeing patterns of love for nature and the seasons, and the mention of "animalistic goddesses" is making us think....DND druid style. (we took one look at the "barbaric" descriptions and tossed it all out, thank you)

Animal companionship is common among Chasind, whether they are "working animals" that warriors and hunters may keep that help them in their tasks, or companions for your local shopkeep or fisherman. Big or small, smart or.....lovable...animals are all around and children may even receive their companion at very young ages, growing up with their animal friend.

Some more magically gifted Chasind can even transform and take an animal form.

Chasind are bonded by clan systems, not blood or background. Meaning that if someone needs help in the village, people will band together to support that person. Once you settle in the swamp, you're family.

The Chasind have a large population of people with darker skin tones, but people with lighter skin tones are not uncommon either.

The Culture

Being situated on top of it, of course, water is EVERYTHING.

Navigating the bayou is no easy feat, and children are taught from a young age through legends, stories, and all sorts of oral histories how dangerous the water can be.

There are definitely some pretty cool eldritch beings living out in the swamp, and there are definitely stories about them.

Fishing culture is HUGE. Fishermen are taught a very sophisticated type of navigation and tracking, most commonly using the stars as a guide to chart the swamp, because the landscape can be incredibly difficult to navigate, especially after dark.

According to the BW, the Chasind have "developed their own language, but are capable of speaking the King's tongue", so we took this as they've managed to blend an older language like the one spoken by their Alamaari ancestors and merged it with the King's tongue (not unlike real-world languages, such as Haitian Creole, Jamaican Patois, or Michif)

People also traverse the swamp on stilts to keep out of the water and out of the way of other water predators. Whether they are walking across the village or going out to the fishing holes to get a daily catch.

Please feel free to add your own comments or thoughts on this re-imagine! This entire project is a joint effort, and having perspectives from other backgrounds is always helpful to make it more inclusive.

[useless-catalanfacts]

All our support to Dani Gallardo, Spanish young man sentenced to prison for his solidarity with Catalonia

Dani Gallardo was 22 years old when took part in a demonstration held in Madrid (Spain's capital city) in solidarity with Catalonia, right after the Spanish Supreme Court sentenced a group of Catalan civil society leaders to prison for their involvement in the Catalan independence movement. The demonstration also stood against the brutality of Spanish police against Catalan people and in solidarity with Catalonia's right to self-determination. It was the first time that a demonstration like this was held in Spain (outside of the occupied nations like the Catalan Countries, the Basque Country and Galicia), and the protestors were met with police violence as well. (At the same time, on the other side of the square, there was a counter-protest organised by a fascist group who opposed the solidarity protest and rallied in favour of the indivisibility of Spain. That one was not attacked by the police.)

Dani Gallardo tried to help his friend Elsa, a young woman who was being violently reduced by 5 anti-riot policemen at once. Then, the policemen beat him up and arrested him and Elsa. In total, 4 protestors were arrested that evening. That protest happened on October 2019, and since then Dani's life has changed completely.

All the detainees were insulted and threatened with violence by the police, and Elsa (being a woman) was constantly sexually harassed and insulted with misogynistic insults and very vulgar sexually explicit comments that I will not replicate here. Dani kept shouting to defend her, so they beat him with a stick with nails on the head. He says that Elsa was the one who got beaten up to a worst condition, but in the end Dani was the only one who wasn't freed.

Dani spent more than a year in pre-trial jail, while waiting to be judged by the Madrid Provincial Court. Then, he was freed on probation but, later, he was sentenced to 4 and a half years of prison for "basic public disturbance" and "attack against authority", because a policeman says Dani hit him. He appealed this decision but now (June 1st 2023) the court has confirmed the sentence, and Dani will have to go to prison.

The trial was a joke. The policemen declared things that contradict what happened, or pretended they hadn't seen anything. The doctor's report that was used to claim that Dani had attacked a policeman was signed at 9:30pm in Plaza del Sol hq, when he was arrested at 10:45pm at Tirso de Molina. This shows that the police had decided that they would accuse someone of this crime even before they arrested anyone, and then went out to look for some protestors who they could blame for it.

More than 4,200 Catalan people have been repressed by the Spanish courts since September 2017 for their involvement in the independence movement. This number includes people who have gone to court with many different outcomes, from prison sentences to more commonly fines, and also people who have been arrested and retained by the police, some of whom have denounced being tortured. Dani's case is unique because he isn't Catalan himself, he is Spanish. But this didn't save him, because the Spanish State has wanted to make an example out of him: this is what will happen to any Spaniard who dares to stand in solidarity with the peoples oppressed by Spain.

Dani has talked about why he supports Catalonia's right to self-determination. Dani is an anarchist, he doesn't believe in states, so he believes that everyone should have the right to self-determination and understands the want to get away from Spain and its fascist institutions.

He has also talked about the support he has received since he was arrested. He has received lots of support from Catalan people at all levels, from all kinds of social organizations and local assemblies to many individual people who sent him letters, and politicians who have him their support. On the contrary, he denounces he hasn't received any support from Spain (only a small support from the Madrid anti-repression movement at first, but they never followed up), and has not even heard a word from the Spanish "progressive" political parties. In fact, during the time he was out on probation, he moved to Catalonia because it was the only place where he knew he'd find help and solidarity.

We are very thankful to Dani, Elsa and everyone else who has showed their support.

Other sources used for this post: interview with Dani on Vilaweb (23/07/2022), 3/24.

[nerdygaymormon]

Catching up with Elder Kevin Hamilton

A few days before my trip to Utah, I felt inspired to give Elder Hamilton the book which contains a chapter I wrote. I immediately had an anxiety attack, but went ahead and ordered the book, summoned up my courage, and offered the book to Elder Hamilton.

After explaining the aim of the book, he said he looks forward to it, he likes reading others' perspectives. <whew>

—————————

I mentioned Elder Hamilton's talk at BYU in January and the loud criticism it received. I asked how it felt to experience all that. He spoke about how no speech he's ever given has gotten so much attention, and that he also had people send him encouraging, supportive notes, so all in all it's fine.

—————————

We moved on and the topic of transgender people came up. Elder Hamilton quoted the Handbook that we approach trans people with "an abundance of Christlike love." That's where we start! Err on the side of love, which is the way the Savior was. From there we will sort out any issues.

He mentioned a child who is going through some gender issues, and I replied that if it's a phase, then just let them go through the phase, and if it turns out not to be a phase, then that's that.

The older he gets, the more he concludes that our job is to love everyone unconditionally, to keep the commandments to the best of our abilities, and let God reconcile all things. Everything will be made right through Christ's atonement, every hurt gets healed and every injustice corrected. We should trust that the Lord loves His children.

—————————

Elder Hamilton mentioned that he doesn't see me as an advocate, rather I'm a good listener and a good student of people. I study and observe and I'm not quick to judge. I take the longer view of things with a patience that all will work out.

Elder Hamilton brought up the test in Moroni chapter 7--that which inviteth to do good is of God. Then said that the Lord puts me in places, over and over, where I can make a difference, where I can be a force for good. He sees me try to lift others and to be a blessing to them.

We spoke of Affirmation and my new role being on the Board of Directors. He said this will open a bunch of doors for me as it will introduce me to a bunch of people and a chain of events will naturally occur. He's interested to see what happens.

—————————

Elder Hamilton says that he's heard people say that the Church pushes people out, but that's not what he sees from the Seventy, apostles or First Presidency. He's not wired in at the local level, so maybe there's some of that going on.

I responded that I have a lot of privilege in my stake, I've been in stake callings for 11 years and so I'm pretty well known. Yet I still have to deal with a few situations every year and I gave him a few examples. I know I'm treated well where I live, but these kinds of things still happen.

—————————

Elder Hamilton asked if I'm committed long term to living in Florida. I shared with him how I wound up at the university where I work at because 20 years ago it was one of the few places with partner benefits and I knew I'd be safe if they found out I'm gay. Many advances have taken place since then but it feels like we're going backwards and things are becoming less safe. Those who want to not be nice feel emboldened.

Elder Hamilton commented, "Well, Utah is an option!" and mentioned the Church's support for the Marriage Equality Act and that Salt Lake City is very gay friendly. Elder Hamilton has recently moved and his neighbors across the street are a gay couple and they've become best friends. He & his wife consider them the best neighbors in the world.

—————————

Elder Hamilton asked if I served a mission and I shared the story of praying to know if God could love someone like me, and feeling that I'm loved and "not broken."

He replied that one of the most destructive things people believe is that they are damaged goods, that I am not good enough. That's not true! All are alike unto God--black & white, bond & free, male & female, straight & gay.

—————————

One reason I share on my blog about my encounters with General Authorities is so people can see how I, a gay man, get treated. I also want to share how they talk about queer topics with someone like me.

Mostly we know these people from when they speak in General Conference. They talk about doctrine and policies, and can seem harsh. I'm treated well, even by some who have a reputation for being a hardliner. Only twice have I had a bad experience. One of them mailed me an apology, the other changed his behavior and we've become friends.

[beardedmrbean]

Progressive politicians and local Michigan Democrats are increasingly distancing themselves from Rashida Tlaib after she defended the use of the controversial pro-Palestinian phrase "from the river to the sea."

On Friday, the Democratic representative for Michigan, who is of Palestinian descent, described the chant as "an aspirational call for freedom, human rights, and peaceful coexistence, not death, destruction, or hate."

"From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free," is a phrase commonly voiced at pro-Palestinian rallies. However, it is contentious because it implies support for the dismantling of the Israeli state, as it references the Jordan River on Israel's eastern border and the Mediterranean Sea to the west.

Hamas, the militant group which staged a surprise attack on Israel on October 7, killing an estimated 1,400, including many civilians, adopted the slogan following its formation in the 1980s, and some Jewish groups say it amounts to antisemitism—though others contest this claim.

Since her public defense of the phrase, Tlaib, who has attended pro-Palestinian rallies and is among those to call for a ceasefire in the current conflict between Israel and Hamas, has been challenged on her remarks by fellow progressives and state party officials.

On Sunday, Bernie Sanders, a senator for Vermont who has championed progressive values, told CNN that while Tlaib was his "friend," that "slogans like '[from] the river to the sea,' if that means the destruction of Israel, that's not going to work."

He added: "People who are saying: 'Israel, right or wrong, we're for you all the way,' that's not going to work [either]. This is a horrendously complex issue."

When asked about whether she agreed with what Tlaib had said, Pramila Jayapal, a U.S. representative for Washington state and chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus, told MSNBC that she was "not willing to say," but that her colleague was "not the first person to say this."

On Saturday, Dana Nessel, Michigan's attorney general and a Jewish Democrat, told Tlaib that while she had "supported and defended you countless times," her comments on this occasion were "indefensible."

"This is so hurtful to so many," she said. "Please retract this cruel and hateful remark."

Noah Arbit, a Jewish Democrat state representative, said that it was "disturbing and enraging" that the Jewish community in Tlaib's constituency were being represented in Congress by "someone who adopts wholesale the call for the state of Israel to be wiped from the map."

Jeremy Moss, a Michigan state senator who is also Jewish, said of Tlaib's remarks that "this is not how Jews view the phrase." He added: "The words of our congresswoman enflame the tensions here in an already tragic conflict."

Newsweek approached Tlaib's office via email for comment on Monday.

The phrase has received renewed scrutiny as pro-Palestinian protests around the world have grown in response to Israeli military intervention in Gaza, where Hamas is based. To date, the Hamas-run Gaza Health Ministry says over 9,700 Palestinians have been killed, mainly in airstrikes.

The Anti-Defamation League (ADL), a U.S. hate watchdog, described the chant as "an antisemitic slogan" as it "den[ies] the Jewish right to self-determination, including through the removal of Jews from their ancestral homeland." It said that usage of the phrase can make Jews "feel unsafe and ostracized."

Others deny the chant always amounts to hate speech, though. On October 20, London's Metropolitan Police said that while it could "envisage scenarios where chanting these words could be unlawful, such as outside a synagogue or Jewish school, or directly at a Jewish person," in the context of a protest it "would not be an offence and would not result in arrests."

However, Suella Braverman, the British home secretary, who is responsible for policing, wrote on X, formerly Twitter: "The slogan was taken up by Islamists, including Hamas, and remains a staple of antisemitic discourse. To hear it shouted in public causes alarm, not just to Jews, but to all decent people."

A pro-Palestinian protest in Austria was banned by police last month as the chant was mentioned in invitations, Reuters reported, However, one pro-Palestinian legal organization recently claimed that an appeals court in the Netherlands had ruled that it was "subject to various interpretations" and did not necessarily relate to Jews.

Amazon has recently come in for criticism for continuing to allow the sale of merchandise bearing the slogan on its platform, while last month, students at George Washington University faced backlash for projecting it, along with other messages, onto the wall of a library.

Related Articles

Full List of Democrats Who Refused To Condemn Hamas Supporters

Rashida Tlaib Launches Furious Attack on Joe Biden

Rashida Tlaib's 'From the River to the Sea' Post Sparks Outrage

[waybeforeyourtime]

i agree with much of what u said that people need to have boundaries etc but comparing a legitimate stalker who is a very extreme case that required police involvement to fans saying that a celebrity gives them a reason to stay alive is honestly pretty messed up. I get ur point that it may be a lot of pressure to SOME celebrities But other celebrities have shared that it makes everything they do worth it to know that it gives someone hope and something to look forward to in a really dark world. Especially for queer youth many of which really struggle with their mental health the portrayal in young royals and also omar and edvin being vocal in their support really does mean a lot to them as it does to many of us who are not even teens anymore. So your judgement and telling people to seek mental help is honestly quite insensitive. I do agree with you about people harassing celebrities and not respecting celebrities but you also made a lot of assumptions and a lot of judgements toward people who are really struggling linking them to someone committing multiple crimes that is a bit unfair. I wasnt going to say anything but it has really been bothering me as someone who works with queer youth.

I didn't compare what happened to Bradley. I used that as a jumping-off point to explain why you shouldn't judge anyone for stepping away from socmed.

Read it again.

And you contradicted yourself. You say these fans who have unhealthy parasocial relationships with these actors have mental health issues and then say I'm insensitive for saying they need to seek mental health help.

"I wasnt going to say anything but it has really been bothering me as someone who works with queer youth."

Listen, credentials on the internet mean zero. You could be lying. So.... and I was a queer youth. I also worked with queer youths. And, imo, they need to start hearing these things from adults. They're isolating themselves in echo chambers of online fandom culture, and they are being raised to believe they can dump all of their problems on another unwilling person.

They can 100% love their fav, bestie, mother, father, or whatever they want to call people. But they have to learn to understand that the relationship is one-sided. That their fav owes them nothing. That their fav exists as a human being outside of being their fav.

"I get ur point that it may be a lot of pressure to SOME celebrities But other celebrities have shared that it makes everything they do worth it to know that it gives someone hope and something to look forward to in a really dark world."

Yes I'm sure being asked 'what size is your penis' really gives someone hope in a dark world. Or being harrassed to come out publically. Or having your bf receive threats online. Or having fans invade a restaurant that you're at with friends. Or having a fan from another country happen to just show up at your local market.

That's just some of what has happened in YR. If a fan isn't part of harassing people online or making them feel uncomfortable*, then my post wasn't about them. And, if they are, then I stand by my statement that they need to look at their behaviors online.

* Edvin asked people not to comment about his physical appearance, and it never stopped. If you think the people talking about that toxic behavior are the problem, then you are part of the problem.

Also, those SOME celebrities who say they really enjoy socmed will usually always add something like, "the majority of fans are cool BUT..." And I could give you several examples of those who have said that and then eventually went off socmed, driven off by fans.

[fatphobiabusters]

How do you actually meet other fat people, especially fat people that are happy with how they are weight wise? I've been trying to make friends and I have no idea where to even start. lol

It's very much a matter of chance most of the time because of how much information about fatphobia and fat liberation is suppressed in current society and how fatphobia is still extremely welcome even in progressive spaces.

Online is a good place to start. You can look at fat positive blogs like this one, maybe look at the blogs we share, the comments and notes of the posts we reblog, the people who send asks, and you might find someone you click with. It can feel weird to randomly message someone who doesn't know you to say hi and try to make a friend, but fat positive people are so few and far between that I imagine you would receive way more acceptance and enthusiasm than not when messaging a fellow fat liberationist.

There are some groups online if you look hard, such as Facebook groups, Discord servers, and Zoom social gatherings. Last I heard, NAAFA was doing a Zoom social event once a month that also included a Discord server for the group. Groups and servers dedicated to intuitive eating, HAES, body positivity (major asterisk with this one since there are a lot of fatphobic people who have taken over that movement), eating disorder recovery, and disabilities also have a higher likelihood of being fat positive. I was part of a local disability support group that would meet over Zoom, and they took measures to keep the support group from accepting fatphobia. They even adopted my meeting topic suggestion of fatphobia and ableism intersectionality! If you identify as a gay man, I'm sure there are spaces dedicated to the bear community, and I would be shocked if those spaces weren't fat positive.

If you're going to a university and are particularly in a progressive/social justice-based degree program, there will still be a ton of fatphobia but you might meet some fellow students who support fat liberation. Although my social work degree has had so much fatphobia and most students don't know anything about fat people's oppression, I was shocked that I did meet a few students who cared or even already knew about fatphobia. (I can't believe it, but the self-identified radfem in my class was one of those people. Not a great luck of the draw on that one.)

Depending on where you live, there might be fat positive events. I have heard of fat liberation pool parties (I believe that concept was even featured in the show Shrill) and fat positive fatshion shows.

You can try engaging with the fan base for fat positive media too, like searching for people online who talk about the podcast Maintenance Phase or who nicely comment on tweets by popular fat activists. You can try introducing a fat liberation book to a progressive book club if you're part of one, or if you're part of social group for a marginalized community you might have success introducing that social group to the concept of fat liberation.

A surefire way to meet other fat positive people is to run a fat positive social media page yourself! And it's always nice to have more people on the "front lines," so to speak.

I listed a lot of ideas but I can't sugarcoat the fact that it IS hard to find other fat people who don't hate their fatness or even just people in general who support fat activism. You have to actively search for those people more often than not. My main friend who I talk to about fatness with is Mod Squirrel. Despite having people I have met in person who also support fat positivity, I'm not super close to them outside of classes, and their support is more passive than actively caring about fatphobia. But there are people out there who do care. Maybe this post can serve as a way for you to meet fellow fat people if any followers of this blog are also looking for fat positive friends?

I hope this helps!

-Mod Worthy