#its not even 99% for this case

[jinsoro]

"Go/wogle is legit cause when I look up stuff its always right!" Duh they give you mainly facts about useless things but when it comes down to information that matters to them, they'll twist it.

[princeloww]

life is so peaceful when you just block people. be calm be zen avoid unnecessary stress just block them . block them all

[kil9]

ppl always think of furries as a weird internet subgroup and they dont realise that furry haters are also a weird internet subgroup. i dont think most people care at all. "wtfff how would you explain this to your grandma O_o"

like this: this is me if i was an animal

and she'd just be like "ok. yeah. like bugs bunny."

[millionsofbooks]

something about the tiktok ban that i haven't really seen people here talking about is the experience of tiktok users not from the usa, which was, as far as i can tell, on the whole, very positive. it was actually really nice to, for a short period of time, be on a major social media network and able to interact with people across the world without usamericans constantly inserting themselves into every conversation.

usamericans kind of take over people's fyp regardless of where you're from. this is partly to do with the fact that the creators fund is only available to usamericans so most of the shitty content farms are from the us. then there's also the cultural aspect of the fact that being a citizen of the most powerful empire in the world is a significant privilege, and also a privilege that 99% of usamericans are seemingly unable to acknowledge, plus the us centrism and exceptionalism, plus the constant need to cast themselves as the underdog, and, well. it's annoying.

so, like. everything of what i've seen (which is not to say that other opinions don't exist, just that i haven't seen them) is that it was really nice when the usamericans were gone, and it kind of sucks that they're back.

[lesbiancarat]

saw someone on reddit asking about seventeen solos and listed the ones they knew and asked if they missed any (including covers and OSTs). and man if there's one thing maintaining the carat resources carrd over the years has taught me it's that most carats don't even know or remember half the stuff svt has released outside of their official discography

[kyliafanfiction]

I sometimes feel like characters who do truly monstrous things while also having been victims of some pretty insane shit themselves are sort of an exercise in empathy. Or at least, should be seen as such.

Like, in real life, if a person who has been horribly broken by their experiences and failed by society than proceeds to rape someone - it's hard to feel the justifiable sympathy/empathy for that person (without excusing their rape, never do that) because well, you can look at this actual human person they hurt, or worse, and it feels gross and disrespectful to the rape victim.

And this is understandable. (And applies to more than just rapists/rape victims of course, that's just the most visceral one and thus picked for that reason)

But a fictional rape victim is... fictional. You can't 'disrespect' their trauma, and while obviously rape/whatever else is real, and people may related to the rape victim and thus see your comments about the rapist also being a victim as somehow being about their experience...

Well, it's not.

Because the rapist here, didn't actually hurt a real person. Fictional characters are objects. They're objects that often grab us by the throat and refuse to leave our fucking heads, yes, but they're objects. They are tools used by writers to tell a story, and readers to tell a story.

And one of the things fictional characters are good for is allowing us to consider experiences we never had, and imagine ourselves in other circumstances and lives. (Also just fun and fascinating and interesting to watch their stories).

It's very easy to feel for the rape victim in fiction, and rightly so. That's Level 1 Empathy there. Granted, some people IRL fail that, but that's not really what we're talking about here.

Advanced Empathy, hard Empathy is feeling for the rapist. Not for the rape, of course, even if they feel guilt about it, but if someone really was failed on multiple levels and was broken and damaged and went through the sort of psychological wringer that would leave most of us here on tumblr catatonic - they do deserve the same Empathy any human (any person) who went through all that.

Even after they also do the bad thing, critically they still deserve Empathy. And that is fucking hard. I very often have a hard time feeling bad for truly awful people who also deserve empathy and sympathy, real and even fictional (despite all this, yeah, I'm not perfect on this) for what they (separately) went through.

It also becomes even harder when what they went through is utterly bound up with what they did. How what they went through and experiences is in part responsible for what they did - because they still made a choice. The circumstances may have left them not in their right mind, may have left them feeling without choice, may have driven them to things they normally might not think of or do, but they still chose to do that bad thing. And that's not okay. They still hurt someone.

And yet - one cannot remove the action from the circumstances. So you can still feel empathy, and elucidate all the factors and circumstances as to what led up to their choices and why, and it doesn't change that they did the horrible thing. The rape, or the murders, or whatever.

But circling back - with a fictional character... they didn't hurt a real person. There's no one who is real that suffered. The things the character did IRL are bad because they hurt real people.

So you're not being disrespectful to the victim by feeling that empathy, or sympathy. By exploring the things that they were a victim for. Even by wanting to focus on those things - fictional characters should be compelling in all their aspects, if they're written well.

And yet, of course, if you do that empathy and do talk about what the bad person went through and all that context, people come at you. They call you evil, just as bad as the (again, fictional) character, or they say that you're treading dangerously close to the arguments people use to defend the real people who do these things in real life. Or you're disrespecting all the victims of these crimes IRL. Especially of course, if the person coming at you has a reason this comes close to home.

But again - fictional.

In an ideal world, we'd all feel sympathy and empathy when it's called for, regardless of what the person did. Even the worst most monstrous people deserve human treatment in prison. And if you don't have empathy, that's hard. Even if you do have empathy, that's hard.

So if you look at a fictional character (who doesn't hurt a real person by virtue of being fictional) that does horrible, vile things, but went through so much, and you still can't empathize or sympathize with them... I mean, it doesn't make you a bad person, not even close, this is still fiction, and there's people I should empathize with in fiction that I don't, but...

It's still a failure of your ability to be empathetic. And we're all humans. We're all failing at that, among other things, all the time. But... it's good to be aware of that. at least?

At the very least, bear that in mind when other people are talking about that context, and that victimization. And please, for the love of god, don't fucking pretend that the victimization didn't happen, that this person who did do terrible things (in fiction) suddenly didn't also (in fiction) experience awful shit, as if doing a bad thing erases all the bad things done to you.

Again - it doesn't necessarily make you a bad person, but like... the horrible state of prisons in our society is a real, actual problem. The way we as a society dehumanize people who do bad things is a real actual problem for a lot of reasons (not least because it creates an incentive for authority that wants to dehumanize a person or a group to expand the definition of 'did bad things' to make their dehumanization now acceptable, among other things).

So yeah. Fictional character who suffers but than also makes others suffer - that's a useful exercise in Empathy. And doing that doesn't make you or anyone else a bad person, or actually defending the sorts of crimes, IRL or Fictional, that this character did. Contextualizing is not whitewashing, empathy is not erasing, and humanizing is not disrespecting the victim(s).

So yeah, they fictional character did bad things. But there's more to them than that. And you can say but and talk about what comes after but without disrespecting the fictional victim. Because the fictional victim... is just as fictional. Just as not real.

Is it possible for this to end up being taken too far? Yes. But that's a reason to be mindful of yourself when it comes to real people, not to never do it. And when it comes to fictional people - again, fictional. Nobody was actually, really hurt.

(I really do want to make clear, before people read the tags, that this applies to all crimes these sorts of characters do, rape was just picked as the one to use as the example.)

[bmpmp3]

ive mentioned before that i find deco27 to be the Most Producer Of All Time in the sense that i find all the debates that i see in the distant seas from my little internet island about whether or not his music has fallen off or not a little funny - just 'cause that guy is constantly putting out solidly produced songs for everything (not just vocal synths) all the time forever to the point where it seems like it just depends on whether his machine gun spray approach of music had more hits or misses for you recently. personally ive not been super into a lot of his recently vocaloid work but his milgram songs have all been instant hits for me and the couple love live songs he did are so insanely good mr deco27 please come back to love live im begging you please

all that to say monitoring rules HARD

[marsbotz]

ALSOOOO man i will never forgive casual sg fans for their peabrain takes on gihun in s2. THINK……

[hangingslothcentral]

so there are practical things that go into deciding what day of the week your shows release, right? the reason that NQD has moved to Wednesdays from Mondays, for example, is because I record and release the show episode by episode and on a Monday release I kept finding I was consistently letting the show eat my weekends, which was inconvenient as many people I know and love have working patterns where the weekend is their main free stretch of time.

it originally released on Mondays to have space around SBR, which was a Thursday release. SBR was a Thursday release because of Clockwork Bird, which was a Tuesday release because... I can't remember why I picked Tuesdays honestly, I was in a near constant state of panic at the time so my memories are pretty hazy, so I've no longer got any idea.

with the new thing I'm like. I'm INTENDING to have a bunch of episodes pre-finished way ahead of launch, and with the speed it's coming together, that's looking very possible. NQD now releases Wednesdays, with a Tuesday patreon release, and because Wednesdays are smack bang in the middle of the week, there's only so much breathing space I can give episodes in terms of scheduling.

picking a day of the week this time feels totally arbitrary and so i'm just like *shrug* one of them?? lmao

this is not very helpful for planning.

[waugh-bao]

*

[autisticlee]

sometimes it really bothers me how people don't get or care how truly lonely/isolated/alienated I feel. because they only give useless advice like "learn how to be your own best friend/do things alone" instead of trying to maybe be there for me? 😭 I know its selfish to ask anyone for anything. that's why I wish they'd choose to be there for me so I don't bother them. but they never do. even of I do get the courage to ask. I hate feeling this and wish I could just choose to enjoy being isolated instead of being forced into it and being miserable 😭

[shadowkoo]

Did You Miss Me?

→ Summary: Chan surprises you when he comes home early from his trip, waking you in the sweetest way. But as the night unfolds, it becomes pretty clear that you’re definitely more than just roommates.

↠ bang chan x f.reader | 3.2k words | 18+ ↠ genre: fluffy smut, roommates au, friends to lovers

→ Prompts: #31. "Did you miss me?"

→ Warnings: unprotected sex, soft sex, oral (female receiving), body worship, praise, slight dry humping, chan is determined to show you how much he wants loves you, he like to call you pet names like dove, multiple orgasms, no real major warnings kinda just fluffy smut lol (wow how rare of me)

→ Networks: @ksmutsociety @k-vanity @keopihaus @lapydiaries

→ Author Note: Thank you for requesting anon! Learn more about my mini requests here. Also a big thanks to Thea @yoongihan for beta editing this for me <3 As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3 divider credit

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You sigh, checking your phone once more (the tenth time in the past five minutes), willing a notification to appear. But your screen remains stubbornly blank, mocking you with its silence.

Chan was supposed to text once he landed, but hours have passed, and still no word from him. He’d been visiting his family for the past week and was returning home tonight. You’d planned to stay up, wanting to be awake when he walked through the door, to ask him how his break was. But as the time creeps closer to midnight, your eyelids grow heavy by the minute, and the cozy warmth of your couch makes staying awake feel impossible.

As much as you’ve enjoyed the past few days of having the apartment to yourself, something felt off. Maybe it’s been the way it’s too quiet, too clean.

Something’s missing. Him.

You bury yourself deeper into the oversized black sweatshirt you stole from him before he’d left. Well, technically, you borrowed it on a chilly night and haven’t given it back yet, but it’s been long enough that you’re semi-confident that it’s a permanent acquisition. The sleeves swallow your hands, the hood flopping over half your face, cocooning you in familiar comfort. It faintly smells just like him, warm, clean, and just a little bit like citrus from the fancy shampoo he swears he doesn’t use.

At some point, without really meaning to, you fell for him. Hard.

Maybe it’s the way his laughter lingers in the air even after he’s left the room, the way he always saves you the last slice of pizza even though you know he wanted it for himself, the way he never complains when you steal his hoodies, even though he absolutely notices.

And you’re pretty sure he likes you back. Like, 99% sure.

But that lingering 1%? That tiny, infuriating sliver of doubt? It’s enough to keep you from doing anything courageous, like admitting that you’ve been secretly crushing on him. You’re too afraid to make the first move, just in case it all blows up in your face. In case he only sees you as a friend. Or worse, as just a roommate.

God, you really, really hope that’s not the case.

At some point, your exhaustion wins, and you drift off without realizing it. You don’t hear the soft click of the door unlocking or Chan’s quiet footsteps as he comes inside.

He exhales, shaking off the lingering weariness from his delayed flights. Kicking his shoes off, he drops his bag by the door before stepping further inside. The apartment is dimly lit from the streetlights, the soft glow filtering in through the curtains. Then, he sees you.

You’re curled up on the couch, nestled in his sweatshirt, your face half-hidden beneath the hood, breathing slowly.

His heart pounds at the sight.

Chan planned to surprise you by coming home early, hence why he didn’t text you back. But fate had other ideas; his flight was delayed not once, but twice tonight. The dinner reservations were long past. The flowers he bought were starting to look a little sad.

But none of that matters now. Not when he was standing in front of you, watching you sleep so peacefully.

He had decided on day two of being home that he missed you badly. That the apartment, his routines, even his favorite coffee shop, all felt off without you in them. And somewhere between the restless nights, long days, and delayed flights he realized something else.

He wasn’t just missing his friend, his roommate.

He was missing you, the person he hadn’t been able to get out of his head.

Chan was planning to tell you that tonight, along with all the other words he’d left unsaid for far too long.

After gently setting down the bouquet of soft, pastel and white colored flowers, he kneels beside the couch.

Carefully, he lifts the edge of the hood covering your face, pushing it back. The warmth in his chest grows as you stir, slowly waking up. Your brow scrunches slightly before your eyelids flutter open, widening when you realize he’s in front of you.

He smiles. God, you’re perfect.

“Hi, dove,” he murmurs softly. “Did you miss me?”

Still caught in the hazy lull of sleep, you loop your arms around his neck as you pull him down onto you, pressing yourself into his warmth like you never want to let go.

“Mmm, so much,” you confess, your voice thick with drowsiness, and the honesty slips past your lips before you even realize it.

Chan freezes for half a second before melting into your embrace, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you just as tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“Good,” he whispers, pressing the softest kiss against your skin. “Because I missed you more.”

He pulls back as his fingers graze along your jaw, tilting your chin up to guide you toward him. Chan’s touch is gentle, his thumb brushes over your skin like he’s memorizing this moment. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, hazy with sleepiness and something softer, something that makes his heart race.

Before he can think better of it, he leans in again. This time he closes the space between you with a long-awaited kiss.

His lips press against yours tentatively at first, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away, to stop this before it becomes something that can’t be taken back.

But you don’t. You won’t.

Instead, you sigh into him as your arms tighten around his shoulders, like you’re afraid this is a dream and he’ll disappear.

Your hands grip his beanie and tug it off without a second thought. You toss it somewhere—anywhere—because all you care about is threading your fingers through his hair. You tug lightly at the soft strands you’ve been dying to touch for longer than you care to admit.

Chan groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating between you. It sends a delicious shiver down your spine. Heat coils low in your stomach, setting every nerve on fire.

He moves without thinking, climbing over you, pressing you deeper into the couch cushions as he molds himself against you. His body fits perfectly against yours, warm and solid, as if he were always meant to be there.

His grip slides down to your waist, fingers tightening like he needs to hold onto something real, something grounding, as he shifts closer. And then, god, he rolls his hips down against yours, a teasing friction that steals the breath from your lungs.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. Chan exhales sharply, like he’s barely holding himself together, which sends a thrill through you.

He’s so familiar, yet right now, he feels like something entirely new. Something you’ve wanted for a while.

The kiss deepens, his tongue traces along yours, tasting you, learning you. It’s slow but searing, a quiet confession wrapped in every press of your lips, every lingering touch that’s shared.

There’s no more uncertainty. It’s just you and him, tangled together in the quiet of your apartment, finally giving in.

Chan leans in again, lips brushing over yours, voice barely above a whisper, “Tell me you want this too.”

You nod, knowing there’s no going back.

Thank god.

Your hands trail down his firm back, fingers exploring the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. Needing more, you tug at the hem, silently asking for it to go.

Chan pulls back just enough to strip it off, tossing it aside. His gaze drops to you, dark yet soft, and then he’s helping you out of yours, the one you’ve practically lived in since he left.

He temporarily forgets to breathe when he realizes you’re bare beneath it.

A low, appreciative sound rumbles in his chest as his fingers lightly trace over your skin. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something heady, something possessive.

Then his lips are on you again, trailing down the curve of your neck. He leaves a path of open-mouthed kisses that make you shiver while his hands skim your sides, mapping the dips and curves of your body like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s waited too long for this moment to rush through it.

He pauses just above your breasts, his breath warm against your skin. Looking up, he asks a silent question with his eyes, waiting for permission.

You give him a small nod, tilting your head back in anticipation.

That’s all the confirmation he needs.

His mouth closes around the soft peak of your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, drawing a gasp from your lips. The heat of it sends a rush of pleasure straight through you, making your fingers tighten in his hair.

His other hand moves to your other breast, kneading gently, his thumb circling and teasing in tandem with his mouth. He groans against you, the sound vibrating through your skin, making your body arch into his touch, desperate for more.

Chan lifts his head just enough to meet your eyes again, his lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he says, his voice a velvety rasp against your skin.

Then he lowers his mouth again, determined to worship every inch of you.

Chan doesn’t rush. He never does, but definitely not tonight, not with you.

He switches sides, his mouth leaving a wet trail as he latches onto your other breast, giving it just as much attention as the first. His tongue flicks over the sensitive peak before he sucks gently, pulling a soft moan from your lips.

You writhe beneath him, your back arching into his warmth, silently begging for more. He groans against your skin at the way you respond to him.

When he feels like you can’t take anymore of his teasing, his lips begin their descent, leaving a slow, burning trail of kisses down your stomach. His tongue sneaking out every so often to taste you, to savor the way your skin shivers under his attention. His hands smooth over your sides as he moves lower and lower, until he reaches the waistband of your sweatpants.

Chan pauses, glancing up at you with hooded eyes, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. His fingers hook into the band, dragging it down just slightly, just enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“You’re already so needy for me, dove,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something dark and addictive.

You don’t get the chance to respond before he tugs your sweatpants down in one fluid motion, helping you out of them with ease.

And then he sees it.

The damp patch coating the thin fabric of your panties.

Chan sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw clenching as his fingers ghost over the evidence of your arousal, his touch barely there but just enough to make you squirm. His eyes flick back up to yours, burning with unspoken promises.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice raw with restraint. “Look at you…”

He presses a teasing kiss just above the wet spot, whispering against you, “I need to taste you.”

“Please, Channie,” you whimper, your voice laced with desperation. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging him closer. “I want you to.”

A deep groan escapes his lungs. He loves the way you plead for him, the way his nickname sounds falling from your pretty lips.

His fingers find their way between your thighs, pressing against the soaked fabric of your panties. He rubs slow circles over your aching core, teasing you, testing you, driving you to the edge before he’s even truly begun. The sensation sends another shudder through you, and when your moan spills into the air, it intertwines with his own.

“Anything for you, dove,” he breathes, his voice thick with devotion and desire.

Chan hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, gently dragging them down your legs. He takes his time, savoring every inch he reveals, watching as you tremble beneath him.

Then he sees all of you.

He sucks in a breath, his pupils blown wide with hunger as he drinks in the sight of your slick, glistening folds. He swallows hard as his arousal painfully strains against his pants, twitching at the mere thought of tasting you.

Lowering himself between your thighs, he presses soft kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his lips barely grazing where you need him most. The anticipation is maddening, and he knows that he has you squirming. He smirks as your hips instinctively tilt toward him, silently begging.

He chuckles, but obliges.

Chan’s nose nuzzles against your swollen, needy clit. As he breathes you in, his own restraint hangs by a thread. His tongue delves into your slick heat, firmly parting you as he groans into you, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure straight through your core.

You cry out his name, your back arching off the couch. Your nails dig into his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Chan tightens his grip on your thighs, holding you open as he’s determined to make you fall apart beneath him. He’s waited to fucking long for this.

“Oh, fuck,” you mewl, you voice becoming shaky. “Chan, I’m gonna come.”

His chest swells with pride, impressed at how quickly he’s unraveled you. He’s barely touched you, and yet here you are just about to fall apart for him.

“That’s it, dove,” he rasps against your slick skin, his tongue relentless, pushing you right over the edge. “Let go for me.”

Your body tenses before shattering into pure pleasure. Waves of ecstasy wash over you as you cry out his name. He groans as he feels you come undone against his mouth, your release coating his tongue. Hot, sweet, and so intoxicating.

Chan doesn’t stop, not until he’s wrung every last drop from you, his tongue lapping up the remnants of your pleasure, drinking you in like he’s starving. He finally lets up once you're a quivering mess beneath him.

He sits up, satisfaction glinting in his darkened eyes as he admires your flushed skin, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Especially the dazed, blissed-out look on your face.

Fucking breathtaking.

You don’t give him long to revel in his work before you sit up to face him. Your fingers grip the nape of his neck as you pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a feverish kiss. You don’t care that you can taste yourself on his lips; in fact, it only fuels the fire burning between you.

Your hands slide down his toned stomach, finding the waistband of his pants. With a teasing tug, you pull back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes wide, lips parted, pure temptation in your expression.

“I want to return the favor,” you murmur, voice still heavy with the remnants of your pleasure.

Chan groans, his head falling forward, his resolve hanging by a thread. His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing over your swollen lips as he exhales a shaky breath.

“Dove,” he rasps, his voice straining with need, “as much as I’d love that, I need to be inside you.”

Your lips curl into a playful, breathy giggle. “Even better.”

Without another word, you push his pants and briefs down in one smooth motion, freeing him, finally seeing him in all his aching glory.

And fuck, you want him just as badly as he wants you.

Chan positions himself at your entrance, his tip teasing your slick heat for just long enough to make you shiver with anticipation. But he’s too desperate to feel you, to claim you.

With one smooth thrust, he buries himself deep inside you. He fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way. Your fingers digging into his arms as a broken moan falls from your lips.

“Shit,” Chan groans, his forehead dropping against yours as he fights to steady himself. “So tight…so perfect for me.”

He rolls his hips, setting a slow rhythm, his thick length dragging against your walls in a way that has your toes curling. His body trembles with restraint, every muscle tense as he battles the overwhelming urge to let go, to ruin you right here and now. But he knows better, there will be plenty of time to fuck you into the couch like there’s no tomorrow.

Right now, he wants to savor this moment.

Chan nuzzles into your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he exhales shakily. A hand grips your waist, holding you steady as he thrusts again. His cock brushes against that divine spot inside you, causing you to let out a sharp gasp.

“Chan, ohmygod,” you whine, your voice breathy and ultimately wrecked. “Feels so good,”

He lifts his head, his dark, lust-blown eyes locking onto yours as a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Yeah?” His voice drips with affection and need. He rolls his hips again, slower this time, ensuring his thick head hits that perfect spot with maddening precision. “Then let me make it even better, dove.”

Chan’s grip moves to your thigh, his fingers press into your heated skin as he lifts your leg over his shoulder. The shift sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper into you.

Your breath stutters, a strangled moan spilling out as white-hot pleasure floods your senses. His name falls from your mouth like a mantra, broken and breathless, as the coil inside you winds up impossibly tight. Then it snaps.

A cry rips from your throat as pleasure crashes over you, your body trembling. The intensity leaves you breathless, your head tipping back as you succumb to the sheer bliss of Bang Chan.

Chan watches you with hooded eyes, mesmerized by the way you fall apart beneath him. His control is slipping, unraveling with every squeeze of your walls around his cock. His lips reattach to yours, swallowing your moans as your fingers dig into his sweat-slicked skin.

He groans, his rhythm faltering as he feels you tighten around him, gripping him so perfectly. He clenches his jaw, fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts through your orgasm, chasing his own.

“Shit, baby. I’m—”

Chan’s voice breaks into a strangled moan as he finally tumbles over the edge. He buries himself deep, his release spilling inside you. His body shudders against yours, every muscle trembling with the force of his pleasure.

Completely spent, he collapses onto you, his weight warm and comforting as you both catch your breath, your bodies still tangled together in the aftermath. For a moment, you lay there wrapped in each other, the only sound filling the room is your mingled, steadying breaths.

Chan shifts slightly to press soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. His lips are warm and tender against your skin, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. And then he whispers something that makes your heart swell.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice thick with sincerity.

Your lips curl into a smile, warmth spreading through your chest. Before you can respond, he adds teasingly, “But just so you know… I will be confiscating my favorite sweatshirt back from you.”

You let out a sleepy giggle, fingers lazily tracing patterns along his back.

“Good luck with that.”

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[wilwheaton]

For some odd reason, moderator Jake Tapper told Trump in the beginning that he didn't need to answer the questions and that he could use the time however he wanted. Trump ran with that, essentially giving a rally speech whenever he had the floor and was unresponsive to the vast majority of the questions. He made faces and insulted Biden to his face, at one point calling him a criminal and a Manchurian candidate. If anyone had said 10 years ago that this would happen at a presidential debate they would have been laughed out of the room. After the debate when most of the country had turned off cable news or gone to bed, CNN aired its fact check. [...] Even had Joe Biden been at the top of his game, he would not have been able to parry all those lies and he shouldn't have been put in the role of being Donald Trump's fact checker. His choice was to either ignore the lies and let them stand so he could use his time to make his own case or spend the entire debate correcting the record. It was not a fair fight. It's obvious that Biden's terrible performance has caused panic among Democrats and liberal pundits and analysts. The calls for him to withdraw are loud and meaningful and it's going to be a very rough period in this campaign whatever happens. For me, this isn't really a question. As long as Donald Trump is on the ballot, I will vote for the Democratic nominee. If it's Biden or someone else, the calculation remains the same. Nothing is worse than another Trump administration and I suspect that at the end of the day Democratic voters will agree with that. So it's still a matter of those undecided voters in swing states, just like it was on Thursday morning.

CNN's debate was no fair fight

CNN, yet again, gave Trump a national stage to vomit an endless stream of unchecked lies, and today, CNN is telling itself and anyone who will listen that the network and its moderators did a great job. That’s just plainly false, and America is paying the price for their failure.

That doesn’t let Biden off the hook. Biden had a terrible night. He was so bad, it’s allowed the political press to completely ignore not just how much Trump lied, but what he lied about: January 6, all his indictments, his Covid response, and on and on. President Biden was a disaster, and his campaign should be at DefCon 1 to try and repair all the damage. I am terrified that his awful performance will obscure his surprisingly good record and leadership in the post-insurrection era, and give the political press an excuse to run with “Biden is old” in the face of Trump’s endless lies, his felony convictions, his pending trials, and all of his criminality. Someone at Salon said that Trump didn’t win, but Biden absolutely lost. I can’t argue with that, even if the facts are all on Biden’s side.

I’ve seen President Biden on TV today, and even last night after the debate, where he didn’t come across as an ancient dude who needs a walker on his way to some Matlock reruns. He looks and sounds like the SOTU Biden we all expected would show up last night. I have no idea why he was so awful for 99% of the debate (the campaign says he has a cold), and I have no idea why the guy who is showing up to speak to supporters today, and who delivered the SOTU didn’t show up last night to save America from Trump, again.

But we have to live with this reality now, and I hope like hell that the Biden campaign, the candidate, and the entire Democratic party apparatus scrambles like fucking crazy to get all hands on deck to fix this, and remind voters that

This isn’t about BIden vs. Trump. This is about America vs. Project 2025.

There will be no second debate where Biden can try to salvage something out of the wreckage of this one. Trump has everything to lose and nothing to gain. Trump will crow about how he won, and declare he has no reason to debate again, and he’s right. Biden had one shot and he absolutely blew it. The moderators did not help, but the campaign had to have known they wouldn’t, and it sure looks like they didn’t prepare Biden for what we all knew was coming. I don’t know how those same people stop the bleeding, and if they can’t, America and the world are in real, real trouble.

But we all have to remember that we have a choice to make in just a few months. Right now, and probably on election day, the choice is between Joe Biden and Democracy, or Donald Trump and Fascism. It’s stark, it’s clear, it’s binary, and I can not believe that it is even a question. I just hope that there are enough voters out there who will understand that we do have a choice. The options suck, but we do have a choice.

Please choose Democracy. Please choose America. Please choose the future world our children will inherit from us.

[demilypyro]

I have one problem with Tatianna and its the whole " can't wear clothes" thing. It feels wierd like Quiet MGS5 where its like "Oh no she breathes through her skin so we have to put her in skimpy outfits *wink* *wink*." But then on top of that shes a kid so it feels even wierder?

In another timeline I might have agreed (lord knows I've complained about using watsonian reasons for this kinda bullshit before) but in this case she's in a mech suit for 99% of her screentime and when you do see her it's usually an extreme closeup of her face or her body is being blocked from view by her hair, so I feel like they play it pretty safe, it didn't bother me

[greylittlebird]

Rhaenyra’s claim is weak and should be dismissed for the peace of the realm. She was named heir solely as a precaution to keep Daemon as far away from The Iron Throne as possible because he would be dangerous as a ruler. Now she’s married to him and her becoming Queen would mean Daemon becoming Prince/King Consort, the exact thing she was named heir in order to avoid happening. Rhaenyra being named heir was always meant as a placeholder in case Viserys died before having a son come of age. Even Viserys knew that but he backed out of replacing her because he was crippled with guilt over butchering Aemma in his pursuit of a son that when he got that son, he was too full of self-hatred to even love him. Viserys got all this “chosen one” shit in his head and put it in Rhaenyra’s head too but really it was all because of his emotions that he couldn’t make Aegon heir as he knew was planned when he married Alicent and had him.

(Obligatory, yes, it’s misogynistic that only male heirs are accepted - and its also unfair that one inbred melanin-deficient family holds absolute power by virtue of their birth while 99% of society has no say in anything. Its not fair that Smallfolk get crushed to death the second one of these white-haired narcissists wants to make a statement, and is starved by a blockade caused by one of the more powerful, privileged people in the world who has never once known what it feels like to worry about accessing food being angry she doesn’t have even more power and privilege. That’s the world of Westeros, and Rhaenyra becoming Queen wouldn’t make Westeros any more equal and fair for anyone but herself.)

[rosenclaws]

Alright Rose, can I ask for my own Logan head cannon?

How each Logan would act to the news that you’re pregnant and when they meet your baby for the first time.

hi Lub!! I got this as an anon ask too so I'll combine them into these headcanons

Origins Logan -

Oh man he'd need to sit the fuck down for a second. He'd be worried first and happy second. Don't get me wrong he's not going to leave or anything but Logan has lived a very long life up to this point, about 100 years or more. I think this is the case for most Logan's but the first thing his mind goes to is his mutation. Will he pass it on? He knows what it's like to live with a mutation. How hard it can be. So he's scared. Plus the threat of stryker looms over his head. He'd do anything to protect you and his now unborn child. He's there every step of the way but the worries never leave his mind.

The protectiveness gets ramped up to 11 once your child is actually born. Oh man he's just melting. Holding them in his arms and watching for a long time. You're fast asleep and it's just him and his baby. He doesn't really speak, literally just watching your baby breathe. He makes a promise to himself that he won't let anything happen. Ever.

(Oh man side note this reminds me of a fic idea I had where Logan goes with Stryker and leaves the you and his child to protect you with every intention of coming back just to lose his memories and disappear for 15 years only to regain them and then search for you guys.)

Trilogy Logan -

He thinks you're joking at first. Cracking a smile and telling you that you really got him. Then he sees your face and he realizes you aren't joking and things become serious real quick. Look I know Logan is great with kids and he won’t admit it but I don’t know if ever wants his own because he is unsure if he wants to bring a possible mutant child into a world that hates your kind. He hugs you and maybe a cracks a joke but deep down he’s afraid.

Its late into the night. You’re fast asleep and he’s sitting outside nursing a root beer. He hears footsteps and thinks that they’re yours but then he catches a whiff of a different scent. It’s Marie. He doesnt do heart to hearts but he spills some of what’s going on. I think that Marie would be the best person to reassure him. I mean she was a kid when he found her and whether or not he wants to admit it he was there for her. Made her feels safe.

The day he actually gets to hold his child is where all those fears melt away and get replaced by new ones. Like what happens if his kid gets hurt or what if he accidentally drops them? What if he fucks up? Oh man its terrifying but he can’t help but smile when he hears the little baby noises his kid is making. He also shows them off like crazy. Smirking as he brags about them to anyone who would listen.

DOFP Logan -

Now just like trilogy logan he thinks you’re joking. His reaction is a little different. He’s hesitant to bring a child into the world but I think he’d be a little more open to it. He never dreamed about being a dad but shit it happened and well, he’s getting older and he doesn’t hate the idea lf raising a child with you. He jokes that the best case is your kid gets 99% of you and 1% of him. That 1% being his shining personality of course. A part of him hopes that your kid isn’t a mutant. He doesn’t know how the whole x gene thing works but keeping his kid out of this world is better even if things aren't as bad as he remembers.

He’s so protective when your kid is born. Oh my good luck to those doctors who try to get within 5 feet of his kid or you. He says he’s a new dad but his students would beg to differ. He’s got years of practice under his belt now. He holds them close and promises to be there for the rest of their fucking life. You don’t appreciate the swearing but still.

Old Man Logan -

I think he has the worst reaction of all of them. By worse I mean he just doesn’t react well. He’s not happy and celebrating as much as you wanted him to be. Realistically you knew it was going to be a tough announcement. I mean Logan isn’t built to be a dad and with Laura. He’s overwhelmed trying to make ends meet now. He’s not a good father. At least thats what he thinks. Laura would beg to differ. He has a temper and he’s drunk and gets mean but he she feels safe and protected by him. He saved her. You both did. Logan is terrified of this big change because things are fine so why add something that had the potential to disrupt everything? And man did your new baby disrupt everything. But not in a bad way. Logan is a fucking mess the whole time. He panics every other day about this and you tell him to knock it off because if anyone should be panicking it's you. To which he says fuck no that could hurt the baby (he read it in some parenting magazine he might have stole from a gas station). Theres a natural instinct to protect deep in him and when your baby is born his whole world just shatters. This small innocent little. thing. It’s his child. He has two kids. He has a family. I think he cries. Not when anyone can see or hear him. But he sheds a few tears. Wondering what he could have done to deserve this. If his sins have finally been repaid. His old grinch heart grew three sizes, just enough to fit you, Laura, and his new baby in there.

Worst Logan -

He reacts a lot like Old man logan. Fear that turns to anger. I wrote something like this but the idea of having his own child is fucking terrifying. He believes that he was never meant for the family life. Even with Laura, that was the other him. He and Laura get along but this is a whole other thing. This is a newborn baby. A child that he will look after and take care of for the rest of his life.

I think his instincts kick in and he runs. Not for long. He doesn’t actually go far. Just down stairs to Laura’s apartment. She chews him out for leaving you alone and threatens to stick her claws into him and drag him back upstairs. But she does understand. Just a little. Logan spills his insecurity and to his bewilderment she just agrees. “Yeah you are old and you are mean and you drink way too fucking much” she would tell him. But she tells him that hes an idiot to think he won’t be good for this. If he’s waiting for the day he’s the perfect father then he’s going to be waiting forever. Logan is far from perfect but deep down, he’s a good man. A man who has a second chance laid in front of him on a silver platter. So fucking take it.

The day his baby is born is when he just. It feels like everything clicks. Its funny really, watching him hold her for the first time. He keeps looking back at you to make sure he’s not doing anything wrong. She cries and Logan feels this gut punch. A horrible twisting just knowing his baby is upset. As you sleep he holds her. Whispering promises of being the man you both deserve.