#more of the guy for those who like him a lot

[astercontrol]

Yeah. This is all very true, but, like the man said, people don't like it.

Which I think is for a specific reason-- part of the reason a LOT of things in the world get so bad.

Suppose you go back in time to try and stop a bad guy. (I'm not gonna say Hitler like the original screenshot did, because Hitler has very specific connotations and would start a very specific debate that's not the more general point I wanna address.)

Let's just say, there's a guy who did terrible things, and you travel back in time to try and prevent this.

And you find him when he's a baby.

Two schools of thought here. One is, you give that baby a different life where he grows up with different experiences, and then he won't do the evil things he did.

Some people don't like that idea, because it suggests that what he did wasn't his fault-- maybe was no one's fault, just an accident of circumstances lining up wrong. And that's not satisfying, for people harmed by the evil he did.

But the other school of thought is, you kill the baby, because the problem is him, not his environment. He's gonna be evil regardless of how he grows up.

But then, where is the evil? In his genes? In the soul God gave him? And how does THAT make it any more his fault?

"Oh, it's not in his genes or his soul or his experiences! It's his choice! He COULD choose to overcome whatever's in those factors, he just won't!"

...Oh? He definitely won't? In any possible timeline? Then what is it that makes him so inevitably destined to make that choice?

"He CAN, but it's not possible that he ever WILL" ...and how is that any different from "he can't"?

This is how a lot of radfems think about men in general. But people don't like to go very far down that line of thought, because ultimately it makes them question the concept of free will.

Thing is, though-- if we're ever going to move behind a punitive, carceral mindset for how to deal with evil, we HAVE to start questioning that.

I'm not sure we can, on a societal level. But I still hope we try.

Even if stuff is predestined, we don't know what the future is... and we can always hope it's something good, or at least not the worst. And hope that the things we can do are gonna help it become that way. We have to. Because hope is all we have.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[stoopidpigeonxx]

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑶 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑴𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏. ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

CAPTAIN CURLY SMUT HEADCANNONS !! NSFW under the cut. MDNI.

(These are all completely random, not tied to any prompt. I just want more stuff about this guy cuz I love him) Fandom/characters: Mouthwashing, Captain Curly, other characters briefly mentioned.

Content warning: Smut (obviously), p in v, curlys packing, title kink, thigh-riding, face-sitting, size difference, manhandling, reader is AFAB, creampie, multiple rounds, riding, cursing, J*mmy.

-He's a grower, not a shower.

I firmly believe Curly is a distinguished gentleman, unlike J*mmy who would most likely brag about how big he is and end up only being like, 5 or 6 inches. Curly, however, will not mention his size until you see it for yourself. And when he sees your face, he panics. "Oh-shit, uh- i-is it gonna be too big for you? It's okay if it is, I should've warned you.."

He's four inches soft, uncut. I think he keeps himself decently groomed. He's not completely bare, but it isn't a forest. He's got a little v-line that's only visible when he wears sweatpants that you go absolutely feral over. When he gets hard, whoo boy. 9 inches, throbbing. He's got a cute little vein near his tip that you like to attack when you're sucking him off because it makes his thighs shake. He's got a little bit of a mushroom tip, maybe more rounded. Perfect for hitting all those good spots inside you. In short, he's big. (he tucks it, that's why he doesn't have a bulge in his sprites. Also I'm sorry trans-Curly headcannon people ;-;)

-"Need a seat? I'll volunteer."

VEEEEEERRRYYY into face-sitting. Very. Like, the first thing he wants when you guys get freaky is for you to sit on his face. He's not exactly sure why he likes it, to be honest, he just loves the feeling of you absolutely lose yourself on his tongue. He isn't worried about suffocating or anything, since he's a lot bigger than you, so don't be afraid to ride his face! he can handle it! But seriously, use this guy as a seat. He'd give you a few licks up your slit at first to warm you up (again, gentleman) before going for your clit. And when he gets it, he sucks. Hard. He'd also probably sneak a finger or two inside you to add extra stimulation, because he really wants you to come on his face. He desperately yearns for the sound of you screaming his name as your juices cover his face and tongue, letting you ride your orgasm out before lifting you off his face and setting you down. "Alright, sweet-stuff, my turn. On your knees, please."

-Save a Polle, ride his big ass thighs.

So... we've all seen his sprite. He's thick as fuck. He's got a booty and bigger tits than me. But he also has deliciously large thighs.. so use that to your advantage, because he's totally down with it. He likes using it as foreplay to get you wet enough to take him, and he just likes the feeling. He'll probably give himself a hand while you're doing it, or he'll just watch and leave the touching to you.

He isn't much for public sex, but if you're really horny, he'll let you get high on his thigh over his uniform and gently praise you when you come. It gives him a little buzz to be doing something like that in a risky situation, like while he's in the cockpit sitting at the control panel, or even in the commons of the ship with Daisuke in a few rooms away. When you do come, which isn't that long after, he'll kiss you all over your face and head and twirl your hair in his fingers, using his other hand to rub your ass or back.

"There you go, sweetheart, that's a good girl. Good job."

-Sir yes sir.

I know, I know. He gets called 'Captain' and 'Sir' for his job. But if its coming from you when he's balls deep in you.. It's an entirely different reaction.

"D-did.. you just call me- mgh..- Captain?"

It makes him ferociously horny to hear that title slip from your lips, so pray you'll still walk tomorrow. "Ooh, fuck, yeahhh. Call me that again, baby. Call me that again.. Uh-huh. Captain takin' care of this pretty lil' pussy, huh.."

He doesn't dirty talk that explicitly, but you calling him captain gets his creative juices flowing. Oh, also his come. Yeah..

Its also perfect teasing material. You two couldn't even be getting it on, you'd just sneak up behind him and kiss him on the cheek and say "Morning, Captain!" In that tone you know drives him wild. Boom, hard. Poor guy.

-Yeehaw!

favorite position? Cowgirl. For many reasons. One, he loves looking at your face while you ride his cock. The noises, the facial expressions you make, the way your tits bounce up and down with your hips.. He wishes it was a renaissance painting to look at every morning. He also just likes being able to hold you easily. When you're on his lap, its easier for him to snake a hand up and hold your hair out of your face, or to give your ass gentle love taps (he would never spank you, unless asked to). He's a very hands-on guy and wants to touch you, everywhere he can.

Of course, he doesn't mind the occasional doggy, or missionary, or hell, even a Full Nelson, because you KNOW he's able to hold you like that. Manhandling comes naturally with Curly. Gently, of course. He would never hurt you.

-Gets a little messy.

Curly's no one pump chump. He'll go for hours. Even if he's came inside you at least five times, he'll keep going. He's got hella impressive stamina. His motivation? Seeing your cunt leaking his seed when he pulls out. He wants you to still find it in your underwear 3 days later. No hole goes unfilled. He's not exactly a breeder, per-say, though he definitely wouldn't complain about getting you pregnant, he just likes seeing you in a state. He thinks of it as artwork, leaving you so stuffed to the brim. The next day, he'd pull you aside and give you a quick finger-orgasm, just to see if his come's still in there. When it leaks onto his fingers along with your own, he's a very happy man. "Ahh, look at that. Still got it in ya. Should fill you up even more later, hm?"

oof. my hands hurt. ;-;

[cheyisagirlkisser]

"She Gets the Job Done!"

Cowgirl Ellie x Fem! Reader

Content: Cowgirl Ellie, Fem! country reader, Ellie is western type of cowgirl, reader is southern, badly written accents(guys I am southern but idk how to write a western accent), smut, clit rubbing(r! recieving), scissoring, making out, biting, some implied homophobia, reader is written as a lesbian, modern AU, reader has female anatomy, very loosely based off of Chappell Roan's unreleased song.

Word Count: 2.4k

Resource Credits: Here and Here!

Description: You're a true southern girl who is fed up with these country boys who just can't please you. What you really need is a woman, but that's kind of hard to seek out in a small southern town. When Ellie Williams moves into your town along with Joel Miller, she ends up working at the farm nearby, and you really want her. It's true: only a woman knows how to treat a woman right.

Wow, you really hated living in the south sometimes. You mostly loved the summer heat complimentary with trips to the creek on the weekends. You always loved going to rodeos where you obsessed over the dandies. You loved southern food, the nature, the farms and the small town life.

What you didn't love was the men.

You were always a romantic at heart, reading steamy western novels with a flashlight under your blankets at the age of 14 or writing love letters you'd never send to cowboys in town. However, as you grew up into a woman, you realized you'd slowly started replacing the men with cowgirls. You spent your nights wondering what it'd be like to be actually satisfied in a relationship. You grew up in a traditional-minded town, so you tried to push down those desires. You had a couple boyfriends, but men just weren't it for you. They were too rough, too awkward with you in bed, too greedy. None of them knew how to please a woman, at least not a woman like you. After a while, you gave up on the dream cowgirl you had in mind. The novels became difficult to pick up once you began to believe you'd never get the chance to experience real passion or real pleasure. That was what you'd felt like, at least until Ellie moved into your town.

Ellie Williams wasn't much for the south. She was a western girl at heart, adorned with thick leather boots and messy auburn hair. You'd seen cowgirls before, so that wasn't what surprised you. You just felt a calling to her, you adored her from her freckles that faded out in the sun to her messy hair that had a tint of red when light hit it in the right way. She was strong, that was for sure. Her biceps looked so firm, like they could handle if you sank your teeth down into them. She wasn't an extremely strong-looking girl, but that only enticed you more. Her eyes told a lot about her, said she wasn't looking for anything funny, but you wondered if she was silly under all the bravado.

She moved from the west side of the states with Joel Miller, who wasn't a wealthy man by any means, but grew up in your home town. At first, you couldn't tell if Ellie and Joel were related or not. Joel was more friendly, talked to older folks in town, but Ellie often kept to herself. She'd spend most of her time helping out with the farm next to your father's. It was when you were walking to the farmer's market that you noticed her for the very first time.

Your father was a nice man, well known in town. You were living with him until you had enough money to afford your own small place. He owned a farm and wasn't the most rich man, but he made ends meet. Today was a nice day, which mean he unfortunately encouraged you to walk to the local farmer's market instead of stealing his truck for the errand. Of course, you kept your complaints to yourself. Your dad was a sweet old man, and you should've been thanking him anyways, cause you met the most gorgeous girl the world had to offer.

Poor Ellie was too busy herding in sheep to notice your stare, to even notice you pass the road. It only made you more intrigued, that she was such a hard worker.

After that day, you'd always look out for her presence. You avoided using your dad's truck when you needed to run errands, saying it would be a quick walk. You just liked being able to pass by her as she worked on the farm, get the extra few seconds to admire her. You really felt like a creep, but this was the first time you really felt such adoration for a person. Such attraction.

The first time you spoke to her, she was driving Joel's truck down the dirt road after she had finished up with your neighbor's farm. You at the time were walking, coming home from the market with a bag of peaches for a peach cobbler. Ellie noticed you, and that was really when the two of you clicked.

She was used to pretty girls, the west and south had no shortage of them. However, you were perfection for the cowgirl. You wore a cutesy pair of overalls and a pink t-shirt underneath, and Ellie had a soft spot for feminine girls. She came to a slow stop on the dusty road, putting the transmission in park.

"Hey, you! Need a ride?" She shouted with a smile plastered on her face. Your heart melted. You'd expected her to be more serious or smug, but she seemed almost nervous. It was only making your heart beat faster.

"I only live next to this farm, it's really no problem." You assured, though you really hoped she'd push the matter. Thankfully, she did.

"Really, Joel would kill me if he found out I let you walk home. It's getting late."

You, an utterly hopeless lesbian, couldn't resist. You said fuck it and let her reach over to open the passenger door for you, and your boots reached up into the truck to plop down into the passenger seat. You placed the brown paper bag of peaches in your lap and gave her a quick thanks as she began driving. Small talk felt more like two old friends hitting it off, and you liked her accent. It made you a tad more comfortable.

The two of you grew really close after that day. She'd be in the local rodeos and you looked forward to the sleepovers that came after. A few months of friendship helped you get to know her in a way that you could confidently call her your best friend. You still liked her though, feelings only growing the more the two of you bonded. You noticed that while she was a bit shy, she came out of her shell when she was around people she knew. She was quite sarcastic to Joel, and you loved the way she made fun of you at times. It made your heart flutter, and you imagined she was saying the opposite of whatever insult she had created for you.

Ellie wasn't much like what you'd imagined, and you partially felt bad for the feelings harbored away for her. She was a cowgirl who loved horses, sure. But she shared some private interests with you that shouldn't have made you want her more, but it did. One night, Ellie and you were sitting outside in her cow field, a blanket laid out beneath the two of you. She turned to you with a genuine smile, the warm look that she only gave very few people, and spoke in a quiet voice.

"You know, I've always wanted to go to space."

You turned to face her with slightly raised eyebrows. "Really? You? In Space?" You couldn't help the surprise in your tone.

She laughed softly at your expression. "Yes, dumbass. I used to listen to the first moon landing recording on repeat. Somethin' about it was really magical, ya know?"

You couldn't help but melt a little at her confession. The thought of Ellie being obsessed with astronauts was really endearing. But you couldn't stop the teasing, either.

"Is that why you have those nerdy space comics on your shelf? You told me those were Joel's!"

Ellie scoffed and swatted your arm playfully, but her hand lingered on your skin. "That's a topic for another time. Be grateful I share my secrets with ya."

You felt the warmth of her fingers, the way they softly traced patterns on your bare arm. Right then and there, you suddenly needed to risk it all.

"Ellie...I..I really need to tell you something." You sounded shaky and uncertain, but you needed to get your feelings out, even if it meant facing a possible rejection. This girl was too perfect to let get away.

"Yeah, what's up?" She sounded curious, unaware. That made you feel uneasy.

"I just..well, when I first saw you, I thought of you as a completely different person. And I really liked you. I liked you in a romantic way. I got to know you, though. The thing is, I think I like you even more. And I'm so sorry if you-" You were suddenly cut off when her plush lips met yours.

You were shocked, but quickly kissed her back, hands grasping at her everywhere, pulling her to lay on her side so you could tangle your legs with hers. It felt so nice to be kissing her. She tasted like fruit and smelled even better, and her tongue felt hypnotizing against yours. It made you crave much more.

Soon, you were rolled onto your back so the cowgirl could lay on top of you. Her hands were trailing from your sides to your stomach, her hand pausing above your shirt, her eyes meeting yours to search for any hesitation. When you nodded, her hands slid up your shirt to massage your tits through the fabric of your cotton bra. You let out a quiet whine, the feeling of her weight pressed on your body, and she leaned in to press her lips against your neck. In response, you tilted your head back, desperately craving more of her. You could feel the shakiness of her breath, and it reminded you that she was just as nervous as you were.

"Do you wanna keep going?" She asked, and you really noticed how different her tone was from when she was usually speaking to people. One of her hands trailed down the button of your jeans, and she didn't continue until you nodded.

Her hand quickly unzipped your jeans, her eyes meeting yours. She thought you were just too beautiful, looking up at her with wide eyes. She adored you. Her fingers slipped into your panties, and she let out a little "fuck" when she felt the damp patch in your panties. You laughed with a tinge of embarrassment.

"Please, Ellie." You sounded so desperate, Ellie quickly leaned up to plant a kiss on your lips. This one was much more confident, more sloppy and hungry than the first. She took your tongue into her mouth, giving it a hard suck which made you buck up into her hand, trying to get her to just fuck you.

"Patience, mkay?" She said softly as she pulled away, a shaky exhale leaving her mouth at the sight of the string of saliva the kiss had pulled from the two of you.

You nodded even though you weren't the most patient person. Ellie kept you at bay by rubbing at your clit with the pad of her finger, swirling moisture around the soft bud. You made one of the most heavenly sounds Ellie had ever heard, your eyes fluttering shut as she touched you. For the first time, someone actually focused on you. She struggled to pull your shirt off with just hand but you helped her out and soon, your bra was quickly unclasped. Ellie continued to rub at your clit as much as she could through your jeans, but she eventually gave up and pulled her hand out of your jeans, eliciting a cute whine from you.

"Off, please?" She requested, her voice so sweet and yet so demanding. Now that she knew you wanted her, she wasn't playing around. You nodded eagerly and lifted your hips as much as possible to pull your jeans and panties over your hips. Soon, you were left naked on the blanket. Ellie sat up to strip off her own clothes and you admired the sight.

Something about watching the girl strip, her pale skin coming into view in contrast to the stars above the two of you, it was perfection. Her body was slim and she was lean but had muscle on her. There they were, those perfect biceps..you couldn't help but sit up with her to plant kisses on them which soon turned into hungry little bites.

She let out a shaky laugh at your biting and joked with you, even in the heat of the moment. "You're gonna take a bite outta my arm, jesus."

You ignored her teasing and instead moved your lips to her pointy tits, smiling slightly as she shuddered. You found her weak spots. You dragged your tongue over both of her tits, feeling her nipples harden against your touch. She was getting impatient now. She pulled you closer so you were sitting with your legs tangled together, moving to slot herself between your legs. You let out countless desperate pleas as her wet cunt came into contact with yours.

You couldn't help but buck your hips into her no matter how much she tried to stabilize you, both of your moans filling the field. Her cunt was so wet against yours and you could feel her clit and lips both rub up and down all over your own clit. The stimulation felt so good but it had you desperate in ways your body knew, your whines getting louder when Ellie would lean in for wet, lazy kisses and trail her lips all over your neck, hands snaking around to squeeze your ass.

"Fuck, Els. Please, I'm gonna cum..I want you, please.." You pleaded with her, your orgasm building up inside you. This would be the first time you actually came from another person's actions.

"Cum with me, mkay? Cmon baby, you can cum for me.."

You'd never heard Ellie speak so filthy before. Sure, she had a sailor's mouth. She'd swear and curse even on her death bed. But just hearing her beg you to cum, it really sent sparks down into your pussy.

You frantically ground against her pussy, words coming out probably incoherent to Ellie's ears. "Fuck, I'm cummin', I love you Els.."

Your orgasm hit you like fireworks, all of the butterflies you'd felt for Ellie over the months released into intense bliss. She came with you, your juices mixing together, wetness coating both of your thighs.

The two of you spent the next few minutes catching your breaths, a comfortable silence exchanged. You were collapsed against her, arms around her as she held you close. She was so warm, and it was now a comfort more than a turn-on.

Soon, she spoke up in a soft, quiet murmur just for you.

"I love you too, by the way.."

[suzukiblu]

Day seven of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“. . . ‘fast’,” Kon echoes awkwardly, glancing down at their hands. Tim tries not to wince. He definitely sounds like an idiot or a prude or–whatever. Just incredibly, incredibly uncool. 

He has actually never felt less like a prude since getting to know Kon well enough to notice things like how good the bastard looks soaked in Kool-Aid, but now is just . . . really not the time for thoughts like those, yeah. 

“I, uh–I’ve never actually, um . . . with anyone, actually. Guy or not,” Tim half-admits, though it feels stupid that being a virgin is something to admit instead of just a statement of fact. Normally it wouldn’t be, is the thing, but he just really doesn’t want Kon to think he sounds lame or antisocial or . . . whatever, exactly. “I actually would literally not even know how to, uh . . . give you ‘tips’ or anything. Unless I had like, the prep time to do some research, I mean. It’s just, uh–I don't date much, to be honest. Or, uh. Pretty much at all? Like, you're definitely more experienced than I am either, uh, either way, like that's just–I don't do much of this stuff. Any of it. I have in fact gone out with exactly two girls in my life and they both were definitely, um–also the ones who were making the moves and all.” 

It's not that he never want to make a move, just usually he's too busy being way too in his own head about it or something else entirely or–

God, he is rambling so much, Tim realizes, repressing a cringe when he realizes how blankly Kon’s currently staring at him. Because it is very, very blankly, that Kon is staring at him. 

Crap. 

“Uh,” Tim says with a grimace. “Sorry. Um. If you were expecting something . . . faster, I mean.” 

Kon should definitely not have anything that fast if he’s thinking of himself as a product, Tim’s basically positive, but also that’s actually not any of his damn business, but also he definitely needs to look into Kon’s dating history just to add a few names to his list for when he finally goes supervillain and just maybe look into–

. . . Kon is still just staring blankly at him. 

Tim fails to repress the cringe this time. 

“Uh,” he attempts again. “Kon? Are you . . .?” 

Kon turns literally crimson and ducks his head, but also doesn’t actually stop staring at him. 

. . . alright then, Tim thinks. 

“I do like you. I like you a lot. Like–I like-like you a lot, if I have somehow managed to not be embarrassingly obvious about that at this point,” he tries, borderline flailing in the conversation now since Kon is apparently no longer willing to use his words and he was already not doing that great with it when Kon was using his words, and he can’t even talk with his hands or anything because he’s holding Kon’s hands like an actual grade schooler, except probably no one ever has held Kon’s hands like–no, no, he is not far enough down the supervillain pipeline to be able to finish that thought process and deal with the psychological consequences of having to not burn down the system about it, he really cannot do that at any point in the next ten to fifteen years whatsoever. “This isn't–I'm just–it's not me not wanting to . . . take some pictures, eventually. Just . . . maybe we could wait a bit on it. Stick with the streets and buildings for a little while longer, maybe?” 

He tries for a smile and also tries not to cringe again over how weak an attempt it feels like, and then has the uneasy and uncomfortable thought that actually doing anything like that isn’t even really–is that ethical, even? Even the idea of doing something like that? Kon doesn’t really know Robin all that well, no, but they’re on the same team and the same side, and they’re teammates and at least arguably friends, and Kon also doesn’t know he is Robin, and– 

“Um,” Kon says, his hands tightening just a bit around Tim’s and his face still blazingly and borderline inhumanly red as his head ducks a little lower and his mouth curves into what is, in fact, the most unfairly soft smile that Tim has ever seen on the bastard’s face. “We could do that, yeah.” 

Tim was thinking about something, probably? Which hopefully wasn’t something important, considering just how ruthlessly Kon just fried his brain out of his head. Which is not even reasonable or logical, because all Kon did was . . . well, imply he was fine taking things at Tim’s pace and not actually going to get immediately bored if he didn’t put out and was actually interested in just being together, and also did it while smiling at him like that. 

Alright, fine, Tim knows exactly why his stupid brain got itself fried. He’s still apparently embarrassingly easy, though. 

Well, that’s not exactly new information in regards to Kon anyway. 

[jji-lee]

dreamies if they weren’t idols ~*

this is all imaginary stuff from my imagination , i went by some of the things they're mentioned irl but idk i kinda let my imagination run wild LMAO , requested here !

mark , by the age of 31 he's a children's book author with a happy family

being artistic in that way is just something that comes natural to mark. i specifically think he'd write children's books or those adventure novels cause his imagination is just so grand, he has so much material to just write hundreds of pages of whatever he's imagining. considering his age and religion as well i truly think he'd at least be married at this point, kids being a big thing he's planning on soon! his lockscreen is a pic of his partner and kid, he's so full of love in the life he's living. ~* didn't finish college but majored in english , living in canada

renjun , by the age of 30 he's a small business owner who is actively dating

i genuinely think renjun would own like a little art business selling art supplies and little pieces he's created. Whether it's clay, paint, or markers renjun is good at using and selling them. I think romantically he'd do a lot of dating I don't know why by I feel like men or woman he's likes the feeling of getting some loving, he'd settle down eventually but he likes to date all different types of people before landing on the one. renjun's life is full of color and that gives him peace. ~* got a masters in art for fun , living in china

jeno , by the age of 30 he's working on cars and thinking about marriage

anything that has to do with cars, whether it's auto repair, design, engineering he's just into cars. i feel like he'd enjoy learning all about cars so that he's able to work with them in every way. he's the guy they always call at the auto shop because he knows everything. lets be real... jeno is hot as fuck and there's no way he'd be single by 30. I think he's the type to wait for a deepened bond in order to consider marriage and by 30 i think he'll finally feel ready to give it his all. loves his girl and his cars and nothing makes him happier than when they're together. is the type to let his partner decorate their passenger side. ~* did trade school for auto engineering , living in korea

haechan , by 30 is a pretty house husband with kids

idc. haechan loves kids and he wants to get on that asap. it took him a while to find the one (i think he's super picky) but when he found them that was it for him. he'd find any possible way to get as many kids as he can in a short period of time, but because of his partner he stopped at 3 kids LMAO. i think he'd be content with the feeling of being a caregiver and he gives sugar baby vibes srry. but he always has dinner ready, the house cleaned, and the babies showered. he loves that he gets to show his love for his partner in that way and at the same time have free time i follow any hobby he chooses. is the designated parent to sing the lullabies ofc. ~* didn't finish college cause he had a kid , was majoring in music theory , living in korea

jaemin , by 30 he's dr. na the cat dad

i think that jaemin is super flirty and romantic but i don't think he's seriously considering a family yet. he's taken a lot of his youth studying for his career so he's built more bonds as friendships instead of romantic ones. he's literally dr. dreamy and all the nurses are in love with him, but he's more than happy going home to his baby kitties. he does have close friends though that keep an eye on him because he's the type to really get into his work and just lose himself and go MIA. it's a hard life but jaemin is content with the fruits of his labor. ~* got a medical degree and did his residency to be a surgeon , living in korea

chenle , by 29 he's a sports media manager in love with the game (ifykwim)

i think chenle loves basketball but going pro didn't really work out with him, so i feel like he'd turn to media management, loving the idea of being with the team and campaigning for his favorite team. he's bossy and he runs the place so the players take him seriously, maybe even sometimes more than their coach. romantically i genuinely think chenle is a little shit. everyone wants him (insane face card) but he likes the game, being with one or the another to have some fun, but by 29 i don't think he's looking to fully commit. ~* double majored in communications and management , lives in the states maybe somewhere hot

jisung, by 28 he's on his way to the moon !

he's finally gotten his astronaut certification and he's so ready to get to work. he literally cried every year studying late nights and training for his job but when he puts on his suit it is so worth it. he definitely needed a push to get through the 10 years of becoming an astronaut and he got that push from his very special partner. he met them at the start of college and it has just been a sweet romance since. every time he wanted to give up they were there to remind him everything he worked for. can he bring his partner to the moon to propose? ~* has a masters degree in a random science major and 2 years of an internship , went to d.c to be with NASA, misses his mom but is now known as andy.

[world-of-wales]

THE PRINCE OF WALES HAS GIVEN AN INTERVIEW AT THE END OF HIS OFFICIAL VISIT TO SOUTH AFRICA.

During the candid and emotional interview he admitted how the past few months had been ‘brutal’ due to the health scares The Princess of Wales and King Charles went through :

‘Honestly? It’s been dreadful. It’s probably been the hardest year in my life. So, trying to get through everything else and keep everything on track has been really difficult. But I’m so proud of my wife, I’m proud of my father, for handling the things that they have done. But from a personal family point of view, it’s been, yeah, it’s been brutal.’

Speaking about the Princess of Wales he said that :

‘She’s doing well. Doing well.’

Speaking about what it meant to host the awards in Africa, a continent he connects very deeply to as he spent time there following his mother's passing and it is the place he proposed to The Princess of Wales as well, he said :

'Hearing the Circle of Life. I don’t know about everyone else, but hearing the Lion King and things like that gets me quite emotional, So, when they started singing and I saw the clips from the top of Table Mountain and we were all there and it’s happened. I did feel quite emotional.'

He then spoke about his children watching the awards saying :

'I don’t know yet. I haven’t clocked in with them yet but I hope they did.'

William added of his relaxed demeanour in Cape Town this week :

'It’s interesting you say that ’cause I couldn’t be less relaxed this year, so it’s very interesting you’re all seeing that. But it’s more a case of just crack on and you’ve got to keep going. I enjoy my work and I enjoy pacing myself and keeping sure I have got time for my family too.'

He also spoke about his family's opinions on his beard :

'Well Charlotte didn’t like it the first time. I got floods of tears the first time I grew a beard, so I had to shave it off. And then I grew it back. I thought, hang on a second and I convinced her it was going to be okay'

He also spoke about his new role as the Prince of Wales and how he intends to 'royal' in a different way than his grandmother and father before him :

‘You mention the added responsibility and the freedom in the same sentence,’ he laughed. It’s a tricky one. Do I like more responsibility? No. Do I like the freedom that I can build something like Earthshot then yes. And that’s the future for me. It’s very important with my role and my platform, that I’m doing something for good. That I’m helping people’s lives and I’m doing something that is genuinely meaningful.’

William spoke about the BTS work that goes into setting up huge events like Earthshot successfully :

‘So, the Earthshot is a culmination if you like of all that put together. But it takes a lot of work, and there’s a lot of unseen stuff that goes on, a lot of meetings, a lot of people coming in, a lot of chatting and phone calls, letters, all trying to sort of make the Earthshot get to being the best possible entity it can be'

He talked about his frustrations over reluctance as well as more involvement from buisness & governments saying :

‘I’d like it to be more a team sport. And so, when you go and approach people...business...or even government...and say, listen, we’re building this incredible thing. Please come on board. Some people are extremely fast and keen to it. Others take a little bit longer and it’s those people who take a little bit longer, I’m like, guys, we just don’t have the time.'

'So, yes, I get a bit frustrated that it takes a long time to convince people that this is worthy of their attention. But I guess that’s the nature of a global environment prize, you start from scratch and it’s going to take a bit of time.'

On his hope for the solutions & the impact and his message to those who can invest, he said :

'So you guys have seen for yourselves the scale of the solutions. I mean, they cover all sectors in all walks of life. Brilliant people, some barely started, some been a bit more established and have a bit more money. But overall all doing fantastic work in the same direction. I think the key thing for us is how do we translate that into more impact, more scale, and ultimately, greater progress in tackling environmental challenges.’

On his hope for more involvement, ‘I definitely think so. We’re giving this amazing platform to all of them. And really it’s an amazing platform for business to come in and poach what they want. But if we keep waiting....we’re going to keep eating into time that we just don’t have. And so my message to business really is: hurry up and be courageous. Invest faster because we just don’t have that time.’

[ronearoundblindly]

a kiss out of envy + ari 🤭

As promised, love, I give you...

frat boy!Ari Levinson x reader, one of my Valentine's Fics of 2024 (yes, you read that correctly, and no, I don't want to talk about it. 🥲 It's been a rough year lol.)

Summary: You and Ari want each other for all the wrong reasons.

Warnings (regarding both parts of the story) for drinking and partying, language, shitty behavior from...yeah everyone is a bit of a mess in this ngl (it's college), vaguely taboo mutual pining, and not-really cheating/implied cheating (applies to multiple people). This is an angsty weird fluffy sorta romance with an ambiguous ending because no one can communicate to save their f**king lives...BUT HEY! KISSES. MINORS DNI. There's plenty for younger readers on my Light Masterlist, but not here! WC 3.9k

A/N: This is the first half from Reader's perspective.

College is…predictable.

You spent the first weeks of your freshman year faking self-assurance you didn’t actually feel because confidence is sexy—or whatever the saying is,—and if you had to start from scratch, you might as well start from a place you’re proud of.

You made friends. You went out with your roommate. You stayed out late with lots of people you don’t know, and you smiled. Holy shit, did you smile…

The attempt to ‘get out there’ brought constant stress; you wanted to define your social life right off the bat, but good people are hard to find.

You officially decided you were looking in the wrong place for any good people while at the Lawn Party three-quarters of the way through your first semester.

Finally, you’d tried. You pulled out all the stops. You wore the nicer, trendier clothes that you splurged on for events just like this. You put on extra makeup, brought some with you in your little purse to touch it up, and when you smiled in the mirror seconds before running out of the dorm with your roomie, you really were self-assured. You felt sexy.

Though the party was outdoors, you stuck with just the one layer of a light-colored, flowy top, something whimsical and fun, something less useful and more useless, but that’s the idea of fashion, you suppose.

When the breeze caught the fabric, you imagined you were in a movie, one of those scenes where the heroine is about to get noticed by the man of her dreams.

That is exactly the opposite of what happened.

You’d been there all of half an hour, your roommate off to get drinks (after you whined and waited and stalled, hoping to strike up some conversation without partaking in the shared, bad decisions of the swath of 18-22 year olds meandering across a grass field behind the sports complex), when you heard a really loud, shrill laugh behind you and turned.

A red Solo cup crumpled against your boob and beer exploded across your chest, drenching your shirt and dripping grossly down your stomach.

“Wooooah,” the big guy still gripping shredded plastic drawled, eyes glued to your see-through blouse as it clung to your front. “Sorry.”

The girl who laughed with him put her hand up to her mouth. “Oh. My god.” Yet she just laughed more.

That was it. That was the sum total acknowledgment of your destroyed outfit and evaporated dignity.

“Ari,” someone called, startling your assailant to look away with his unresponsive, blown pupils.

You noticed a few drops of beer on his letterman jacket, so, sure, in comparison to your entire front half being soaked, that seemed a fair-and-equal trade for your embarrassment.

Then he was gone, the laughing girl following the asshole, Ari, and his idiot friends as they recapped the football game from…whenever.

You left the party once the waistband of your jeans felt soggy.

You spent longer washing your beer-sponge bra in the dorm sink than you did on the lawn.

Now you know college is a fucking joke. That party became a defining moment in your social life. You realized men—no, boys—like Ari will never care about you as you really are, and finally, you’ve accepted that you don’t want them to.

They don’t deserve to know you.

Sophomore year. Women’s Studies. Of all the fucking classes…

On day one Ari plopped down in the desk next to you.

He plopped because his whole left leg was strapped into a thick brace that kept it straight and jutted out, unable to fit in the tiny seat. He’s so tall his thonged foot tapped at yours beneath your own chair.

In your utter frustration and irritation (since the professor had already started talking), you automatically muttered an apology—to Ari, like some pushover—and moved your legs.

“Not your fault,” the footballer softly chuckled, taking another long moment to settle his crutches on the floor.

Were there no other seats?

You sighed and knew, you just knew down in your bones, that this would be a long damn semester. You also had every faith, however, that this fuck-boy classmate would do just about anything to stay in the course dedicated to his favorite pastime: women.

Though that was an assumption, Ari proved you right, and it sucked.

It took all your innate kindness and compassion not to spit on him. Honestly, the guy is just…dumb. When your eyes wandered every so often, you always found him looking confused, but he wouldn’t ask questions. Several times you caught him sneaking peeks at your notes. You just couldn’t take it.

He fell asleep in one class!

With the course final mere weeks away, the OCD part of your brain kicked in and shoved several sheets of important points you’d written down into his lap before he fully woke up.

His brace was off by then, but Ari still moved slowly.

Again, he looked so confused.

“I expect them back on Wednesday,” you said with a tight jaw, barely restraining the choice names you’d wanted to call him.

You’d been conditioned so heavily to be nice that you smiled at him. A small smile, yeah, but you smiled at the coddled asshole who did not deserve to pass the class. You should have let him fail. You should have let him lean harder on that damn scholarship.

Football held his dead-weight up this long; what’s a few more years?

Nearly the end of your Senior year. Off-campus. You’ve tried.

Socializing is a hit-and-miss game, and you’re learning that sometimes the miss happens slowly, without failed plays, with all the effort you could muster.

“Look, if we’re not doing anything here, then I’m going to the party. You coming? The house is two blocks away.”

Your boyfriend, Billy, stands with his apartment door open and his roommates calling to him from down the hall. He’s frustrated, you know that, but his frustration doesn’t negate the uneasy twist in your gut you get whenever he tries to take things further than making out.

Billy is perfect on paper. He studies hard, has a job already lined up for summer, is driven to achieve…and desperately wants to get laid.

He’s cute, totally adequate in that department, yet still, you can’t force yourself to let him touch you any more than absolutely necessary. You two have excellent conversations, multiple shared interests, and you have no words to describe your lack of…want. It eats you up right along with that twisting aversion to fuck him—because it is specific to him.

You don’t lack for interest in men, even if these are still boys around you. You’re attracted. Kinda. You thought attraction could grow from affection, too, but it hasn’t in months with Billy. It doesn’t make you think he lacks in some way; you feel lacking.

Maybe you lack sympathy. Maybe you lack understanding. Maybe you are just as superficial as those slutty girls you hate, the ones sure to be at this party. Maybe Billy thinks those girls will rub off on you if you’re surrounded.

There’s no one thing, no quantifiable logic; he just doesn’t do it for you. That won’t change.

Your relationship has an expiration date, and you feel it approaching.

Unsurprisingly, you can’t bring yourself to be mean and tell him an outright ‘no.’ It’s rude to say ‘I’m not attracted to you,’ right? You’re a nice person, and it’s not nice to hurt someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.

The heavy pain in your belly grows dense, but still, nothing changes.

The compulsion to be kind and quiet continues as you follow him out, tucking your hands under your arms so Billy won’t try to touch you, but it doesn’t matter. He walks a few feet ahead to keep up with his friends on the walk down the road to the Kappa house.

The two-story, plantation-style home is packed to the gills, making it hard to maneuver past the front door, and of course, the first person you recognize is a brother of the fraternity living there.

Ari Levinson stands halfway up the staircase overlooking the crowd like a king surveying his domain, hair grown long and a beard worthy of his fifth-year undergrad status. He’s wearing a button-up linen shirt as if he just walked in from the beach, perpetually sun-kissed skin glowing, the carefree blue fabric matching his eyes.

Asshole.

He probably showed up to his own damn house, cocked his head, and smirked.

“Y’all having a party?” he probably asked, chill as fuck.

Idiot…probably. You don’t know what happened to him after Women’s Studies, but you can’t imagine he got better. Nothing changes.

His queen-for-the-day leans into his ear, her chest covered only by a red bandana and not much below that hidden by a miniskirt.

What sluts. Both of them. They deserve each other.

He’s so sexy though.

His smile is bright while he doesn’t spill the contents of his red Solo cup on anyone beneath him on the stairs. Seems his drunk coordination has improved at the very least.

“Babe,” you hear yelled close to your ear, “take it!”

Billy shoves one of two cups he’s carrying into your hands and shouts to follow him. He wants to play beer pong in one of back rooms downstairs, a room with no space to stand and watch. There are no chairs, but Billy asks if want to play with him. In no reality would he think you’d answer ‘yes’ in this chaos, but then again, he hasn’t noticed you won’t take a sip of the drink you didn’t see poured either. That’s not even a trusting him problem; for all you someone else made the drinks for Billy, and then you absolutely don’t trust it.

If he can’t manage to notice your reticence, why should Billy care if you’re comfortable?

You yell back that you’re going to find a seat somewhere. Billy gets whisked away for the next partnered game, and relief washes over you.

The only open spot that isn’t a squeeze beside couples going at it in public is a bench underneath the cutout of the staircase. You take a detour to dump your cup in the crowded kitchen’s sink and sit alone for a while, people-watching, wondering vaguely about the king and queen above you on the steps.

Parties…are not all that fun when you don’t feel safe, welcome, or seen. College is predictable this way.

You’re not sure how much time passes before a light blue linen shirt invades your view.

Looking to your right, you don’t see anyone paying attention, and looking to your left you see a sloped wall.

He’s looking directly at you.

“Thirsty?” Ari asks casually, offering the only cup he carries.

You wave it off with a polite ‘no, thank you,’ even though that should be sketchier than your boyfriend getting you a drink.

Ari takes a huge gulp and shuffles his broad body onto the too-short edge of the bench beside you. He seems careful not to touch you or invade your space, the barest graze of a short-sleeve cuff brushing the skin of your upper arm.

Again, Ari tilts the cup toward you. “Jack and Coke,” he shrugs, lifting his eyebrows, “mostly Coke though. I’ve been here a while. You’re basically late.”

You can’t help but blurt, “you live here.”

“That is an astute observation, smartie pants,” he adds with a proud smile. Those, you imagine, might be the biggest words the guy knows.

You also imagine he wouldn’t drug himself with anything,, and worst case, Ari’s already much drunker than you.

You pluck the half-full Solo from his hand, your pinky running the length of his forefinger in the process, knuckles hard beneath callused skin, and take a small sip. He’s right about one thing; you can’t smell or taste any alcohol.

His smile softens. Your pinky tingles even after you return his drink.

“Where’s whats-his-face?” Ari scans the hall. “Probably getting you something better, huh?”

You can’t help but frown and sigh as he takes another swig of soda, pink lips nearly hidden beneath the hair of his beard, but you remember they are quite plump. He only had stubble in class two years ago. You shouldn’t be thinking about what those lips might feel like. Hell, you shouldn’t be sharing a drink with anyone because that’s more intimate than anything you’ve enjoyed doing with Billy recently.

Billy is pushy and inexperienced. Every time he goes to touch you, it reminds you that he’s desperate for it, but…not in a flattering way. It’s difficult to describe.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” you throw out loudly, keeping your guess silent. Perhaps hugging the toilet bowl?

Though a simple question, Ari looks somewhere between giddy and chided while contemplating his answer. He’s so dumb, poor thing. “Flying with the pigs,” he settles on.

“What?”

He repeats himself, and then, seeing your confusion, he leans closer to clarify, “she doesn’t exist. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Ow, rough gig bandana girl. That’s a little harsh: being fobbed off mid-party. Although, you aren’t exactly replacing her. Ari is just talking to you. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s sitting beside you, only a little closer than Women’s Studies, sharing a sip of soda. That’s all.

“So, genius—”Ari elbows you gently, taking advantage to stay arm-to-arm this time “—how you been?”

You notice you’ve been shrinking against the wall and straighten as best you can without looking as if you’re pushing your boobs out.

“Fine. Just…busy with school work.”

Internally, you groan, hating to sound so boring and feeding into this idea you are nothing but a bookworm.

Ari swallows the last of his drink, and you watch as his adam’s apple bobs lewdly—at least, it should be considered lewd with how the motion leads your eye down to the matching dark chest hair peeking behind the shirt collar. He scrunches his nose when the bubbles hit the back of his palate.

“Good. You always seemed happy. Bet you’re top of our class.” He emphasizes the year because he should have graduated already. Originally, he was a year ahead, but then he took a red-shirt year while injured. Ari doesn’t appear to mind that’s something else you share.

You bite your lip and wonder if he’s baiting you. If there’s one thing you’ve heard consistently in your whole young adult life, it’s that you ‘look angry’ and could ‘benefit’ from smiling more.

“I’m…somewhere up there, yeah,” you allow.

He points over his other shoulder and shimmies the empty cup in front of him. “You want one? What’s your favorite?”

For the first time all night, what you want has been considered. Not only if you want a drink, but which one do you want. Such a small thing, and yet the twist in your stomach unfurls a little. The drink itself doesn’t matter; the thought does. That, and being comfortable near him.

“Whatever you’re having.”

Ari flashes that megawatt smile of his and says he’ll be back in a jiffy.

The true value of a beautiful idiot is you don’t have to be on edge. Your basic knowledge of any subject (save sports) would read as genius to a guy like him…which is also why it feels so unbelievable Ari’s choosing to hang in this corner with you. He’s friends with everyone. He could get anything from anybody here. It’s nice to be wanted, not needed.

He returns with two cups, one with a couple shots worth of Jack Daniels, the other full of CocaCola. He looks at you for approval, hesitating in case you want just plain soda, and then makes a huge show of his ‘mixing’ skills.

Absolute moron did not consider the carbonation exploding with every pour back and forth.

It’s a horrible mess of foam and splashing liquid. Both his hands are dripping and sticky, but you laugh freely by the end. You never thought you’d see the day Ari Levinson spilling a drink wouldn’t be triggering.

Not even a fleeting image of that ruined blouse crosses your mind while you weakly clinkthe plastic cups together. It’s the epitome of the college experience in your eyes. For once, you aren’t upset by that fact.

You keep smiling, wrinkling your nose at the fizz bursting on the back of your tongue. You can’t help it.

Ari is a happy drunk, and he starts talking, joking with you, tucked away in your own little bubble.

It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak.

He’s self-deprecating about the same, drunken party behavior that you have watched him participate in for years, and yet you dismiss that as nothing, normal even, and unconsciously nudge closer to Ari, your side flush with his as you bend to see the person he’s bad-mouthing now.

He seems to like the irony in that and chuckles as he says someone over there is getting sloppy, lifting his Solo to his mouth with a dainty pinky raised in defiance. He’s a goofball. You haven’t been so relaxed with someone in…months.

Both drinks are finished quickly, and Ari offers to grab more.

The warm buzz humming beneath your skin tells you ‘yes,’ but your higher brain function steadfastly puts a foot down.

“I shouldn’t,” you mutter, sounding undecided.

He shrugs. For whatever reason, you appreciate that Ari isn’t pushing for anything from you, but that’s exactly what makes you want more from him. He stacks the empty cups and mentions walking you home. He could use some fresh air, he says.

“I should find Billy…”

Ari rolls his shoulders and thinks, his eyes follow suit, scraping his peripheral vision for an alternative that never presents. He stands up, arms akimbo, dramatically squinting to ‘think’ harder.

“He was wearing that red ball cap, right?”

“What?” You’ve never seen your boyfriend don a hat once but suddenly remember the pong partner who pulled him over. “No, that’s Leo,” you scream over the noise now that Ari is standing a few paces away. “Billy’s in, like, a neutral t-shirt.”

Ari smirks, scanning. “One beige Billy, coming up!”

Off he darts into the crowd, much faster than you’ve ever seen a drunk man move, and you skitter behind, realizing Ari stops at the kitchen only when you slam into his back.

He throws the empty cups into the trash and turns to the sink, washing his hands with dish soap, drying them on his shirt, leaving darker streaks of blue.

“Okay, not sticky,” Ari beams, “so now we go.”

Easily, naturally, his hand scoops up yours, and Ari leads you deftly through the throng.

He’s holding your hand. It’s damp and rough and cool and warm all at once. And you grasp it. You’re holding his hand back.

Though tall enough to see over most heads, Ari takes a good long while to notice everyone because they keep moving about. 

Pointing with your still-joined hands, you shout to check the beer pong room, but no Billy.

You two amble through the entire lower floor, stopped several times by people greeting Ari, and he introduces you automatically. You hope none of these other drunk frat boys remembers seeing you hold his hand while asking where your damn boyfriend is.

Without fail, each friend asks if you two are together, and to his credit, Ari quickly changes to “have you seen a guy…” and describes Billy.

“Dunno, man. Check upstairs?”

Ari thanks them and glances at you, a look of defeat creasing his forehead.

He drums his free fingers on the banister. He hesitates.

“Wait here?” he offers but drops your hand and doesn’t pause for your reply.

Using a football drill tactic, Ari bolts expertly up the stairs while you get waylaid by some girls holding up a selfie-stick to make a video. They bitch at the angle, ignoring you, and have to reshoot. You can’t get past.

Yelling.

Suddenly, there’s lots of yelling coming from the packed second floor and a door slams. Half the people in the stairway and hall look up.

More crashing and thudding noises ring out.

With everyone frozen, you shove your way through.

“What the fuck,” you hear just as some guy backs away, almost knocking you down. “Who the hell do you think you are, man?”

Your legs take you inside though your heart lodges in your throat.

Ari’s got Billy pinned over a wrecked desk on the other side of the room while the girl with the bandana top stands by a bed, pulling down her mini skirt. She snaps for Ari to mind his own business, and Ari immediately shoots a glare at her over his shoulder, keeping Billy pinned beneath him.

“Beks, for fuck’s sake,” Ari starts, but quickly, the guy who pushed you in the hall cusses her out louder than anyone else.

“Serves you right for getting back with Erin,” Bandana Girl snaps.

“Eat shit, Rebekah. You don’t actually care!”

What…is going on? These people are nuts.

At least four more bodies squeeze through the door, all looking blazing-mad while you get pushed farther into the suffocating room. You’re bewildered and overwhelmed.

Blocker Guy lunges forward and shoves Ari off of Billy.

Your hands are up, claiming space to breathe, but there’s way too much going on. No one—not even you—can hear your voice crying to be let out.

Funny thing is, you aren’t crying for Billy to help you. Only after you yell for Ari does your brain process that your boyfriend’s fly is down, his jeans unbuttoned, too.

A large, rough hand grabs your wrist and yanks you to the door, barreling you both through the crowd to another room down the hall. It’s surreal to see the group descend on the fight like moths to a flame, drawn to watch what horrible thing these students will do next.

Ari man-handles you inside without hitting a light switch. It’s pitch black, but the closed door at your back muffles only a fraction of the commotion.

From the other side, you hear Billy calling your name, but Ari’s soft, panting breath steals your focus as it gusts across your neck.

His lips shift close to your ear.

“Don’t do it, smartie,” he whispers. “Leave him.”

The stale smell of beer wafts forward when you lean farther into that letterman jacket Ari keeps prominently hung. You feel the ribs of the cuffs against your bare arms until, suddenly, it’s the ridges of Ari’s rough fingers ghosting over your skin.

If Billy’s still screaming, you can’t tell. Your heart thunders in your chest as the hot breath rolling over you moves up your neck and over your jaw.

He’s right there.

He’s right there. He’s drunk. He’s stupid. He doesn’t matter. You don’t matter to him. It’ll never work and it doesn’t have to. This could be so simple.

You envy how easy this is for him, always another girl around the corner, in the next room, who will want him, but you can’t bring yourself to feel bad about wanting to use him. He’s right there, willingly, single or not, sober or not, and so you grip the soft linen of his shirt collar and tug him straight to you.

It doesn’t matter how sloppy you are, how shy or how forceful you get, because you live like him in this moment.

Ari doesn’t care about anything. Self-assured. Confident. Sexy. Popular. He doesn’t have to care.

Now, neither do you.

[Next Part]

⬅️ Steve Rogers and a kiss where it hurts

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[mybworlds]

Wintry dance

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You, after a very long trip alone across the country, arrive in Jackson. Joel is a very lonely man and after Ellie broke up with him, he's even more alone and grumpy. Tommy and Maria decide that you're going to stay at Joel's house for a while, at least until more houses are built. Will your cohabitation be easy? Or will it be more complicated than everyone thinks?

Warnings: use of you, use of alcohol, loneliness, suicidal thoughts, a short story about sexual assault that occurred in the past I won't go into details, violence, blood, lots of sexually explicit content, use of petnames, dirty talk, fluff elements, mutual pining, the main characters spy on each other for a while, the image of the female character has the sole purpose of representing the character, but you can imagine her however you want, unspecified age gap, no physical description of the female character except for long hair often gathered in a ponytail or braid, she wears a bra and jeans (most of the time).

A/N Hey there, I'm sorry to make you wait almost a month between one chapter and another, but I really care about writing everything well and so I often take more time to write. I hope you like it as much as I do and if you don't like it, please be merciful. Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️

Masterlist

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

Winter comes and even the first snowflakes begin their wintry dance.

You love snow, from time immemorial. It gives you the idea of magic. You find yourself to smile behind the windows of the house.

Your life is finally regular, no unexpected events, no runaways, nothing. Everything is. . . strangely normal. You still struggle to get used to all this!

It's good for you. Finally you are not afraid anymore, you sleep in a really comfortable bed, you have a regular breakfast, lunch and dinner. You started going out with guys around your age a few days ago, you get out with Dina and Jesse even if they're younger than you, but it's okay. They are funny. And all you need now is to relax and let go a little, at least as much as you can.

From time to time, Jesse or Dina or sometimes Tommy call you for patrols and you go. You are really good to shoot with a bow, it's what people say about you and it's okay because it means you became part of a community, part of something and it's not bad as you thought.

Well, that's not all rosy. . . there's Joel who never changes his icy courtesy, after those strange moments you experienced together a few days ago. Not a word to you more than necessary, not a glance more than necessary. You don't know how long you can stay here in his house. Sooner or later he will tell you to go away, you're sure of it.

Where will you go? Probably you'll go to Dina's or Maria's. . . no idea.

Today it's your 40th patrol and you'll go with Joel. The idea doesn't excite you, but you don't want to be a troublemaker for anyone. Joel's annoyed look is enough.

The only sound is the hoof of horses in the snow, it's a good sound. Snow doesn't fall and at least you can find the way to go back to Jackson.

The two of you don't say a word, you often look at each other to point to a prey or if one of you see an infected. You kill at least three of those clickers before to get off the horse and heading into the forest. Joel is by your side, he's quiet, precise and a couple of times kills two runners who tried to reach you. You look at him surprised, "Thanks," you say.

"Uh, uh," it's his only reply.

After ten feet you ask him, "Those things were uhm. . ." you whisper.

"Runners, yeah." he says in the same tone as your.

"But it means. . ."

"It means they have recently turned into infected."

"So, it's probably. . ."

"Yeah, it's probably some of those things are somewhere around here."

You swallow looking at him, you are not afraid, it's not your first time. But you usually kill them alone and so you didn't have to think to anyone else except you, "Afraid?" he asks.

You look at him "No, but I always faced 'em alone. I never watched someone's back before."

"‘s okay, you won't start today," he says before to start to walk turning his back to you.

In some places, snow is deeper so your steps are slower and you often sunk, a couple of times Joel gives his hands to you to reach a higher point or to help you to walk, his hands are bigger than yours and his grip is firm. He holds you until you don't reach him then he abruptly lets go of your grip as if the mere contact with you bothers him.

Finally you see a deer, it's a good prey, you hold the string and then you let the arrow fly, the deer has no escape. Your arrow hits its neck, the poor deer tries to escape, but it falls to the ground dead.

"You really good," Joel says when the two of you reach the deer and he pulls the arrow away from its neck "I thought everyone was exaggerating,” he adds, bringing you right back down to earth.

"Thanks, let's take it away," you say tying it with a double rope so the two of you can drag it away.

You two don't talk on the way back, partly because of the cold and partly because you don't know what to say to each other. You hoped that that half-compliment would bring about a slight change in your relationship, but instead he immediately underlined his opinion of you. You only glance at each other from time to time and then return to focus on the road ahead of you.

The two of you reach your horses where you double rope the deer and then take off again and head towards Jackson.

"I can't wait to drink two large glasses of wine and fall asleep," he says, closing his eyes almost as if he's already savoring that moment, you notice how two dimples form on the sides of his cheeks when he gets that rare relaxed expression and you can't help but smile "What? Why d' ya smile?"

You shrug your shoulders, "When you make that face you're funny" you say unable to get your smile back.

"Glad to hear that! So, I'm some kind of clown!" he exclaims.

"No, clowns have always made me sad." you reply by wrinkling your nose.

When you look up at Joel, you see him staring at you, you frown in confusion.

“So, what is it that you like?” he asks you.

"Tsk, I know you're only asking out of politeness, not out of interest," you say.

Joel doesn't answer, you probably hit the nail on the head, you look ahead, you know he can't stand you.

It's evening. It's snowing again outside and it's very cold. Joel prepared the fire and strangely he didn't freeze you with his gaze nor did he give you the usual look with which he chases you away, you prepare a soup with meat and you bring him a plate that you place on his coffee table, then you turn your back and go to the kitchen, you're used to act like this with him. On the kitchen island there is also a hot dish for you that you prepared earlier, after two spoonfuls you hear a husky voice coming from the other room, "Why don't you come over to the fireplace? It's cold tonight."

You turn towards the fire and see Joel looking at you with the dish you prepared for him in his hands, "Come, won't bite" you look at his face as if to understand if he is joking or serious, his gaze is concentrated, but not hostile as usual so you nod, you get off the stool and you join him taking your dish with you.

He's sitting in an armchair, while you sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace. You look at him furtively at least a dozen times, then seeing him calmly eating, you imitate him.

The fire produces a familiar and pleasant crackling sound which heats both of you quickly and paints the walls and your faces a deep orange and black nuances.

"‘s good this soup!" he says savoring your dish down to the last spoonful.

"I'm glad you like it," you say, "is there any other dish you might like to eat? I can't guarantee success, but I'll try!" you exclaim trying to talk civilly with him without being attacked or cold-shouldered by his words..

He shakes his head, "Whatever it is, it'll be fine," he reassures you.

You nod.

For a while you only hear the crackling of the fire and the creaking of the burning wood, it's a strange but pleasant silence.

"You asked me earlier what it is that I like." you say after a while "I love the snow, seeing the snowflakes swirling in the air creating those little swirls. I love the expanses of wild flowers in spring or see a pristine meadow. I love going to the beach to see the ocean waves crash on the shore when summer arrives and then in autumn I love the carpets of red, yellow, brown leaves," you smile staring at the fire.

"You like nature, but. . . nothing about relationships with other people," he notes, you look up "You don't trust ‘em or is there some other reason?" he asks looking at you.

You bite your bottom lip, you find yourself looking at his face for a few moments before sighing, "Never mind. It's none of my business and I don't even care," he replies, suddenly freezing the room "Have you finished?" he asks you, getting up from the chair and pointing to the now empty plate in your hands, “Sure,” you reply.

"Good, gimme," he says, holding out his hand to take the plate that you immediately hand him, "If you wanna, stay close to the fire a little longer." he says as he's about to take his leave.

"Joel," he pauses, "I know I'm a burden to you, someone to get rid of, but I promise you, I'll try not to make you feel my presence too much, I know you don't wanna me around" you tell him, turning your torso partially towards him "when maybe they build more houses, I'll leave."

Joel stares at you in the semi-darkness and then he walks away without saying a word.

Actually, you love many other things, but you still don't feel completely at ease with Joel and above all he just admitted that deep down he doesn't really care what you like or what you're interested in.

Joel washes those two plates and those two spoons at least twenty times. He doesn't know what to replicate to your words and therefore he delays the moment when he will find himself alone with you again. The truth is he doesn't know what he wants right now. You're still a burden, you're still a hindrance to his routine, but it's become harder to treat you badly now. Maybe it was Tommy's words, maybe Ellie's or maybe it was you with all your unspoken words, your sweetness, your attitude, your look that made him understand that he's not the only one who suffers from something.

He pours himself a drink, he places his lips against the glass, but then he thinks better and puts the glass down.

"Fuck!" he exclaims, then dries the dishes and finally joins you.

By the time he reaches you, you are fast asleep. You're on your stomach and hugging the sofa cushion.

He watches you, he runs a hand through his hair, then takes two blankets and he places them on you. You visibly relax, Joel can even swear he saw you smile and twice in the same evening is a lot.

He sits in the armchair and turns on the small light on the side table, he puts on his reading glasses and then takes a book from the drawer of the side table.

He reads several pages, stopping every now and then when he hears you moan meaningless words in your sleep or when he sees you wrinkle your forehead. He takes off his glasses and places the book on the side table, he puts out the fire and puts on the spark arrestor, then fixes the blankets for you, he gives you one last look and then leaves. When he gets into bed, he realizes that it's the first time in probably months that he has reached his room sober.

When you wake up the next day, you have two warm, thick blankets over you. You stretch and yawn loudly, then you sit up and realize you're not in your bed, but in Joel's living room.

Did he let you stay here to sleep? This is really weird.

You get up and fold the blankets to the side, then you go to the kitchen and make yourself some coffee, it has a unique taste, but it's not that bad.

It's been a long time since you drank coffee. . .

You decide to make one for Joel, he's an asshole, but he'll still host you at his house. You take a cup that you imagine is his with an owl on it, you smile. The owl actually represents him very well, it's a nocturnal, solitary and extremely territorial animal.

You pour the coffee into the cup and go upstairs, the door to his room is almost completely closed, you knock weakly a couple of times, then open it. Joel is lying face up in the center of the bed, his arms completely open so that he takes up the entire bed, the pulled aside covers show his exposed torso.

You watch his thick fingers full of small cracks and cuts, his hands relaxed, his face is a mixture of sweetness and masculinity, the wrinkles are barely noticeable, the lips parted, his chest is broad as it looked and you watch a lot of scratches and a very large old scar on his abdomen.

You swallow, you lower your head unsure about what to do or what to say, maybe you have to go back to the hall and knock again and pretend you didn't stare at him for so long. You can almost hear his voice thundering against you.

Yes, you'll do so.

You are about to get out, when you hear him move into the bed and mumbles something to you, you clearly hear your name so you slowly turn your back to the door again, fuck. . .

"Hey, that's my mug!" he says with a sleepy expression and tone of voice.

You clear your throat and then you offer his cup, "Yeah, it is. Here."

He sits in the center of the bed exposing even more his torso. You look at him or rather you look at his bare chest.

He follows your gaze, “Oh, fuck. . . sorry, I'm wearing a t-shirt," Joel apologizes, as you see him lean towards a nearby chair and cover himself.

You look everywhere but him who is now wearing a grey shirt and reaches out a hand towards the cup you're holding out to him and begins to sip his coffee.

"D' ya feel uncomfortable?" he asks you all of a sudden.

You look at him again, "N - n - no," you say barely hold his gaze.

"‘s okay, darlin'. I won't bite." he says putting the cup on his bedside table "Comin' in a while, I'll see ya downstairs, okay?" you nod before to leave.

Darling?

No one has ever used these nicknames and above all you don't expect them from a person who is so openly hostile towards you.

Joel is a living enigma. He says such harsh words, but then he does such sweet things like tucking you in. You don't understand.

You walk down the stairs slowly feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest. When you reach the kitchen, it almost feels like someone has sucked the air out of your lungs.

Ralph. . . the thought of him suddenly comes back violently before your eyes.

You pour some cold water into a glass and sip it slowly, “Fuck...” you murmur sitting on a stool, you place your hands on the shelf feeling your head spin, you close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, counting from fifty backwards.

When you regain control of yourself, you get up and go out onto the porch, you find yourself thinking that you need to get out of this house as soon as possible.

In a certain sense your life has improved, you think, you have friends, days that are almost identical to each other, you have a roof over your head, food in your stomach, but your nightmares continue to haunt you.

You have pain everywhere. He beat you mercilessly, he punched you under an eye, he violently squeezed your wrists while he raped you, you stagger, you want to report what you lived, but in the QZ, when they saw you in that state, they thought you had been bitten and they pointed all sorts of weapons at you. You were shaking, you peed on yourself, you were raped and they were pointing guns at you and looking at you like you were filthy. After verifying that you were not infected, they listened to you, but their response was that they have much more serious problems than yours, that's what an officer told you when you told him why you were covered in blood and bruises. You are treated and a nurse gives you a painkiller, the same scene repeats itself before your eyes without stopping, you can't breathe. You fall asleep seeing Ralph push himself inside you with increasing violence and feeling your flesh tear under his thrusts.

You wake up with a start, screaming and waving your hands in the air to free yourself from his grip. You sit up and bring your knees close to your chest, you place your hands on your ears and burst into tears.

NEXT CHAPTER ➢

[preposterousjams]

My opinion on the Latino Jason Todd headcanon

While I do understand ppl's criticism of the latino Jason todd headcanon and how its kind of racist to make the kid with parents with drug problems as the latino one, to me its more of a reclamation BECAUSE of DC's racism.

Read any 80s/90s batman issue that covers gang violence and drugs, most if not ALL of the criminals are poc; black people and latinos visibly make up the majority in the poorer neighbourhoods in Gotham. Aside from the caricaturist way they r drawn/speak, its not THAT weird cause its a reflection of irl big cities where immigrants and marginalised ppl are often forced to live in such situations, (like most of my dominican family lives in the bronx... it aint racist to say dominicans tend to flock there), BUT...the weird part is when the second a sympathetic character comes from that area, he's white and has a name thats "too fancy for the streets".

Obviously, Jason was created to look like the old robin, so I can't say that the whole "diamond in the rough" situation was purposely a tad bit racist, but its still a lil weird (especially with bruce's comment).

If Jason were a part of the overwhelming demographic in his area, the good-kid-in-a-bad-area trope has less connotations. DC is currently trying to fix this trope is by making crime alley whiter, which isn't bad but they could've just yk... humanised the non-white residents.

I also feel like the messed up way Jason was treated post-death is what makes him so relatable to latino readers. His tragic story of dying while trying to save his only living relative is turned into a lesson for newer vigilantes. Jason's particular disdain for abusers on a few occasions was twisted (by both writers and characters) into him always being dumb, reckless, cocky, angry and disobedient, always violent, never having been able to get over his upbringing. None of those things were true (he was a normal level of reckless and cocky like every other robin, not more), but its an easier narrative to digest compared to how it was in reality; a kid who worked so hard and loved even harder, died to save a woman who couldn't care less about his existence. He was an emotional AND smart kid who wanted so bad to help others get better but was remembered as too emotional (in a bad way).

THIS is the reality for many latino diasporas in day to day life; Theres no question that Latino culture is passionate and emotive, but people from other cultures assume that it is followed by instead of logical. both can coexist. emotion does not mean u have no logic. Emotions can be irrational but they aren't inherently that way, and I wouldn't say that the moments where Jason lashed out as a teenager were irrational (in og runs, not rewrites post red hood), they were mostly done to protect someone (going crazy on abusers, disobeying batman to save sheila, that time he got into a fight at school to defend his friend).

A lot of euro-centric culture is OBSESSED with the idea that rationality is separate from feelings and emotions, but not crying at a funeral doesn't mean you're better than those who do. Emotions are the basis of human ethics and morals, they define the way we interact as a collective and ignoring them does not mean they are not there. Theres no winner to a contest of who can feel the less. And the way Jason's emotions are treated (pre-rh, hes definitely unhinged afterwards lol) is so in line with how white culture tends to punish those who aren't ashamed to feel.

I TOTES UNDERSTAND that some ppl who headcanon Jason as latino are doing it for the complete opposite of reasons, like "oh here some angry emotional guy with druggie parents, haha must be latino". Its weird. I dont like it. And its only brought up so he can swear in spanish in some rlly bad text post where his emotions are getting out. But to me there's so much potential for metanarrative and commentary on how latinos are treated in media that can be exemplified through the way his character is treated. Being latino would add SO MUCH DEPTH to his character and his dynamic with the others.

[gxr25256]

A Flicker of Connection - Thundercraker x reader

🌵 He simply wanted someone to talk to.

----------------------------------

The first thing Thundercracker felt was betrayal—sharp, physical betrayal that seared across his faceplate, the blast striking him with a fury he should’ve anticipated. But he hadn’t expected Skywarp, of all mechs, to lash out like that. Perhaps he’d thought their years as trine, their shared battles and triumphs, would mean something.

But he was wrong. The mark of Skywarp’s anger, of his belief in Thundercracker’s failure, still scarred his metal plating. Now, in this forgotten building, far from the battle’s aftermath, he hid in silence. An old, crumbling structure on the outskirts of a city teeming with humans—the very beings he had risked everything to save. The glow of static from the Earth televisions he’d cobbled together washed over him, throwing flickering blue light across his frame as he replayed those events.

The scene from that day felt carved into his processor. Autobots and Decepticons, locked in vicious combat, and there he’d been, caught in between, feeling a gnawing sense of disgust for the very cause he’d once fought for. He remembered the humans’ faces, the terror etched into their expressions, and it had struck something deep within him. They were small, fragile—but there was something else he couldn't name that seemed... worth saving.

Thundercracker’s red optics dimmed as he watched the images on the screen shift to a romance film. Two humans, laughing, leaning close, as if their world consisted only of each other. It made no sense, these seemingly trivial displays. But he was drawn to it, this softer side of Earth culture, an escape from his own reality.

He didn't know how long he’d been hiding. Days, weeks? Time slipped by unnoticed, blending into one unbroken stretch of isolation. The world he knew was fractured, his purpose hazy, and it was only through these screens that he found fleeting distractions.

Suddenly, a faint noise made him freeze. There was a crunching of gravel outside, the slow approach of someone—or something—tiptoeing toward him. Thundercracker immediately straightened, readying his blaster, though his energy levels were low, and he doubted he could manage more than a warning shot.

When he saw who stepped into the doorway, his optic shutters clicked open in surprise. A human. Young, wide-eyed, and staring at him as if he were some strange, unimaginable creature.

You froze as soon as you spotted him. For a second, you just stood there, wide-eyed, mouth half-open, trying to process what you were seeing: a massive, mechanical creature, battered and worn, watching you intently. You could feel your heartbeat thunder in your chest, but something kept you rooted in place, as if curiosity outweighed fear, just barely.

Thundercracker didn’t move, watching you with equal surprise. He raised a hand slowly, almost in a placating gesture, and you flinched, nerves tense.

“…You’re…you’re real?” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

Thundercracker’s gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained guarded. “Last I checked,” he replied, the rumble of his voice reverberating through the empty space. The deep, almost gentle tone surprised you.

Your eyes flicked around nervously, your shoulders tense. “I, uh… I’ve heard of you guys in the news… seen the damage you can do, but I never thought—” You stopped yourself, swallowing visibly. “Never thought I’d see one of you here.” Your voice was shaky, and you struggled to hold his gaze, feeling as though he could see right through you.

“Most wouldn’t expect to.” He glanced at the floor, his optics narrowing slightly. “You’re not…scared?”

“Uh…” You glanced at his scarred faceplate, the mangled remnants of what was once a proud Seeker helm. “Maybe a little.”

Thundercracker frowned at your answer but not in annoyance, just in confusion. “Maybe?”

You chuckled awkwardly, rubbing your neck. “Okay, a lot,” you admitted. “But… I mean, if you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve done it by now, right?”

Thundercracker tilted his head slightly, surprised by your audacity. Most humans would have run by now. But this one…this one was staying, even as their pulse quickened with obvious anxiety. “What are you doing here, then? Humans don’t exactly wander into places like this without reason.”

You shrugged, trying to look casual though your nerves were clear. “I guess… I’m just curious.”

Thundercracker raised a brow. "Curious?”

"About… you. Cybertronians.” You cast a sidelong glance at him. “Everyone’s always talking about you all like you’re… some kind of monsters or gods. But here you are, sitting in an abandoned building, watching TV like… like a person.”

“TV?” His optics brightened, and you couldn’t help but notice the way they flickered with interest. “You call it TV?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the shift in his tone. “Uh, yeah. TV. Television?”

“Interesting.” Thundercracker looked back at the screen, where a couple danced slowly under a wash of soft lights. “Humans put a lot of effort into these… emotional displays. It’s fascinating, how two individuals act as though they mean everything to each other.”

You cracked a small, hesitant smile. “Watching human movies, huh?” you teased softly, your fear melting into curiosity. “Didn’t think giant robots were into romance films.”

He felt a strange spark at the teasing, something he hadn’t felt in a long time—almost a sense of camaraderie, ridiculous as it was. “Although it is interesting, it is still… confusing,” he admitted, looking back at the screen. “Humans… they spend so much time on these things. I don’t understand why.”

You laughed softly, surprised at yourself for feeling so at ease with him. “Yeah, well, romance and emotions are kinda complicated.” The sound of your laughter caught him off guard. It was small but oddly comforting.

After a beat, you continued, “It’s about… connection, I guess. People want to feel close to someone else, to feel understood.” You looked at him, your expression softening. ��It probably sounds strange to you.”

Thundercracker was quiet for a moment, letting your words sink in. “Connection…” he murmured. You saw a flicker of something in his optics—thoughtfulness, maybe? He looked so different from the images you’d seen of his kind.

He shifted slightly, his optics meeting yours. “And humans… how do they know when they have this… connection? What makes it worth the risk?”

The question hung in the air, heavier than you’d expected. You looked away, thinking hard. “It’s hard to explain,” you said finally, your voice thoughtful. “I guess… it’s when you meet someone who makes you feel less alone. Someone who cares even if they don’t really have to. And even if it’s risky or scary, it’s worth it because… well, life’s kinda empty without it.”

Thundercracker absorbed this, his gaze softening as he tried to imagine it. It reminded him of his trine bond. It was bittersweet to think about their relationship now compared to before the war. They might argue but not to the extent of conflict like this. His wings drooped at the thought.

Seeing that, you felt a pang of sympathy. Without even thinking, you found yourself asking, “Are you okay?” Maybe it was too real, the way he expressed his emotions through his wings, the way his optics dimmed slightly. It wasn’t anything like what you’d seen of Cybertronians before—the images were always of emotionless machines, destructive and relentless.

Thundercracker was surprised by your question, realizing how vulnerable he must have looked. Slightly embarrassed, he coughed. "Why do you ask?"

You looked back at him, and for a moment, your gazes held. In that quiet space, you murmured, “Never mind.” Something shifted between you, a flicker of understanding that you couldn’t quite name. For some reason, you felt a strange warmth toward him—a feeling that was both alarming and oddly comforting.

“So… what’s your favorite movie so far?” you asked, trying to break the intensity with a small smile.

His optics brightened slightly. "Movie?" .He grinned, looking back at the screen. “There was this one… a detective story. The human tracked down his lost partner. Saved him in the end. A victory without killing. There are only adventures that the man must go through on his way to save his partner.He is not even physically strong but he never gives up. That tenacity is interesting.” Thundercracker's voice grew more excited as he talked about the movie.

You nodded, eyes bright with interest. “Detective dramas, huh? You like the mystery?”

Thundercracker let out a low chuckle. “I like the parts where they show their strengths without… violence. Where they find other ways.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, feeling a warmth in your chest. “Sometimes strength isn’t about fighting. It’s about… being there for someone, even if you’re scared or unsure.” You looked back at him, feeling something deeper, something that felt real. “I think that’s something anyone can respect.”

Thundercracker considered that, his optics glowing dimly in the low light. Maybe he was more like these humans than he’d ever allowed himself to consider. Maybe, in a way, he’d been fighting the wrong battles for too long. The thought felt heavy, but at the same time, it lifted something in him.

The conversation ebbed into a gentle silence, the two of you just sitting there—him, a towering Cybertronian, and you, a small, fragile human. Both talked together, shared about movies, and sometimes made fun of silly things on tv.

You glanced at the screen, where another movie had started—a comedy this time—and chuckled softly. Then, checking your watch, you realized it was getting late. Talking to him made you lose track of time; the conversation felt like something you didn’t want to break away from.

“I should probably get going,” you murmured, looking a little hesitant. “It’s getting late, and…I don’t want anyone to find out I’ve been here.”

Thundercracker’s optics brightened slightly as he processed your words. “Leaving already?” There was a touch of disappointment in his tone, something he hadn’t intended to show.

His optics narrowed, the faintest glint of disappointment flashing across them. He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to enjoy this conversation, this connection, however small.

“Are you…going to come back?” His question slipped out before he had a chance to think about it. He quickly looked away, trying to mask the hint of eagerness in his voice.

You turned back, looking up at him with a bit of surprise and maybe even a touch of sympathy. “I…I could, yeah,” you said softly, your eyes thoughtful. “I mean…if you’d like that.”

Thundercracker gave a small nod, attempting to appear casual though his gaze was intently focused on you. “I suppose…having someone around to explain this…‘TV’…would be useful.” There was a faint hint of a smirk in his tone, an attempt to lighten the moment. But there was a sincerity there.

Your lips quirked into a smile. “Alright, then,” you said, your tone soft but genuine. “I’ll come by when I can. Show you a few more human classics. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up with a favorite.”

Thundercracker’s optics softened. He could feel a glimmer of something he hadn’t himself to feel in a long time—hope. “I look forward to it,” he said, voice almost a murmur.

Thundercracker watched as you slipped out of the doorway, your form disappearing into the deepening shadows. He stayed there for a long time, his gaze fixed on the spot where you had stood, the quiet hum of the TV filling the empty space.

In that moment, he realized that for the first time in a long while, he had something to look forward to—however small, however fragile. A connection, as you had called it.

---------------------------------

[undercoverdonderwolk]

The Infamous Max Hair Tuck at Danyul from Honda Thanks Day 2023. Would you mind sharing your thoughts, analysis, takes, theories, whatever you’d like as to what the hell was going on here, please?

I just find this entire interaction so amazing and endearing and it is so, so telling…but I’m not entirely sure what it’s telling me? 🤭 other than that Max is utterly head over arse in love with Danyul? (Even if it’s just platonic love? Idk.)

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSjB3od5x/

where to even begin... genuinely where to even begin... so high on the list of insane maxiel moment and that's saying a lot because there have been a lot of insane maxiel moments... it's way max is zeroed in on daniel in that big group and with a camera pointed at his face. he's like, you guys are free to think this is a group assignment but you would be wrong. and that juxtaposed with daniel trying his hardest to keep everyone included in the conversation... daniel's head on a swivel to cater to anyone who wants to participate in the convo and meanwhile max is like 'this is the perfect time to start a vague in-joke with danyul and danyul only :)' LOVE that difference between them whenever they interact... max's big breath in before he does the invisible hair tuck... the way he only starts laughing when daniel starts laughing... one of my fave maxism is the way he IMMEDIATELY starts laughing whenever he makes a joke so he can be sure the other person knows he's joking... but here he waits :((( for daniel :((((( just the way max is SO delighted to bask in daniel's light... just enjoys sitting back and watching the daniel show... and then he just cannot stop himself from wanting to participate too!!!! we all know max LOVES an in-joke and accidentally excluding people in the pursuit of those but i genuinely think he loves very little more than an in-joke with daniel. that's his GUY. the way max seems kind of over it (as he tends to be) until daniel plays up the ha ha ha isn't this so funny isn't this day wonderful isn't there really nothing else you'd rather be doing... i don't know i always go back to daniel saying he can get max to do things he initially doesn't want to do... and i know he meant like, drinking on the clock or whatever but it's this too!!!!! max voice 'danyul makesth everything fun :)' like max will do ANY marketing shit if daniel's there........ and he'll love it..... also the desperation in max's energy GODDDD. like genuinely insane behavior the way he's laughing SO hard in the hopes that daniel will look at him. if nothing else max was and is completely and totally enamored with daniel. just fucking LOVES being around him..... insane behavior

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT with an autistic partner

Requested? Yes!

Genre: just a ton of comfort

Seungcheol 

Totally lets you practice conversations with him. It took a single time of you being anxious about making what feels like a simple phone call and he’s getting to the bottom of it. When you tell him that sometimes you’re intimidated by carrying conversation and tend to overthink it, he simply asks you to pretend it’s with him. You think he might make fun of you, but he’s gentle about guiding you in what to say to certain things. Now it’s common practice to ask him to rehearse something with you before you do it, but if it ever gets to be too much, he’ll just pick up the phone and make the call for you, no problem.

Jeonghan

Now this is a guy who has an emotional support sword, so he totally gets the need to fidget. It’s grounding and helps him focus, so when you’re out to dinner with friends and he notices you’re not really present, he’ll put an extra straw or chopstick in your hands to twirl. When you ask him later how he knew what you needed, he brushes you off. He’ll always find you something to fidget with, even if it’s his own hand or hoodie string. You find yourself just reaching for him rather than anything else if you feel that particular feeling coming on, and it makes him smile that you feel comfortable depending on him like that.

Joshua

I’m so sorry, but I just love the idea of Joshua being kind of crafty. He notices you’re feeling a little overstimulated one day and pulls you to the table, putting a coloring book and colored pencils in front of you. You look at him, almost offended, because you are an adult, damn it!!! But he asks you to humor him, picking out two pages, one for you and one for him. It does wonders, giving you something to focus on in a time of internal chaos. You lose a lot of time to it and when you finally check back in, he’s smiling lovingly at you, asking if you feel a little better. It’s a regular habit now to sit and do something like this just because and you’re touched that he seems to enjoy it as much as you do.

Jun

He notices that sometimes you’re avoidant of conversation with others, and one time he asks why. You admit that sometimes you feel like you misread or totally miss social cues and facial expressions and it makes you anxious thinking about how you might butcher a seemingly simple conversation. But listen. He’s the perfect person to tell this to. Sometimes, before bed, he’ll make faces at you, sometimes subtle and sometimes not, and then ask you to read them. You’re embarrassed by this at first, but eventually you come around to this little game because he’s so gentle about guiding you, telling you what to look for. Furrowed eyebrows = confused or angry. Blushing = embarrassed or shy. Tight jaw = stressed or angry. It lets you learn it in a safe environment and you find that the longer you do it, the more comfortable you are in conversation in daily life.

Hoshi

This is so simple. He’s a yapper!! He’ll do all the talking in social settings and doesn’t force you to participate. If you do happen to be pulled into conversation, he’s quick to give you an encouraging smile, but he’s also quick to give you an escape by changing the subject if he can tell today is just not the day. But at home, he’s the listener because he always tries to find the things that you like to yap about. He’s aware that you do a lot of listening in day to day life, and in the privacy of your home, it’s his turn to listen. 

Wonwoo

Whereas Joshua helps you find hyper fixations, Wonwoo helps you control how much time and energy you lose to those hyper fixations. Interests are good, he tells you, and he’d never change anything about you, but he will not let you stay up all night. He will not let you skip a meal. He will not let you forget the important things. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s so so gentle about it. It’s all ‘Baby, come eat and tell me about it’, or ‘Baby, come to bed and tell me about it’, or ‘Baby, you need to go get ready for work, but tell me all about it later, okay?’. It brings balance to your life that you didn't realize you desperately needed. 

Woozi

Cliche, I know, but his studio is his hide out from the rest of the world. The catch is that it can also be yours. Sometimes, it’s nice to just come in and disassociate for a while after an overwhelming day and he lets you do it in total silence with headphones on if you want. But sometimes, he’ll pull you over to sit next to him and put his headphones on you to listen to something he’s working on. One time, you told him that you found his music and his voice relaxing, so he thinks about that when he makes what he makes. He likes that you use it for comfort and it motivates him. 

DK

You’re putting off doing something like going to the post office to mail something. Seokmin notices that this package has been sitting there for a while and asks you about it. When you admit that you don’t know how the whole post office thing works, he asks you to explain what you mean. Kind of embarrassed, you admit that you don’t understand the structure of it. Where’s the line? What do you say when you get up to the front? What kind of questions might they ask? Is there anything you should be asking them for? This sweet, sweet man makes you get up and physically act the whole thing out with him in the comfort of your living room without a single laugh. You’re still nervous the next day when you go and finally mail this stupid package out, but Seokmin enthusiastically cheers you on when he notices it’s gone later that night. 

Mingyu

He notices a few quirks since living with you. For example, you can’t simply do the dishes. When he asks why you unloaded the dishwasher, but didn’t empty the sink, he isn’t trying to be mean, but he doesn’t understand when you say it’s too big of a job to do in one go. He asks what you mean, and you explain that it’s not just ‘doing the dishes’ for you. It’s unloading the dishwasher, and putting the clean dishes away, then loading the dishwasher with dirty dishes and getting into the cabinet to get detergent and fill the little compartment with it. Then it’s starting the dishwasher and putting back the detergent, only to have to do it all again tomorrow. His eyes widen a bit at your rant, but then he sweetly says, ‘Okay, baby. Do it however you need to’. He’ll never say anything about it again, but it doesn’t stop him from just doing the dishes amongst other chores himself the next day because he doesn’t want you to stress about it like that. 

Minghao

One time, after not seeing you for a little bit due to busy schedules, Minghao asks how you’re doing. You say you don’t know. He quirks his eyebrow. “Don’t know as in Not Good?” You shake your head. “No, I just don’t know.” He carefully asks questions, seeking to understand, and realizes it’s not that you don’t feel anything. You just don’t really know how to put a name to it. After that, some date nights feel a little bit like therapy, just short of the ‘and how did that make you feel?’ For example, you tell him about a rough meeting at work that day and he asks, “Did you feel frustrated by it?” You think and finally say, “Yeah, maybe”. Over time, it turns into an ‘I think I’m frustrated’ and then finally a definitive ‘I’m frustrated’. He’s really proud that you can express yourself more clearly because that means he can help you more.

Seungkwan

You don’t do well with change, and he totally understands it. When he goes away for work, he understands that it breaks your routine in a lot of ways. He starts by giving you a heads up as soon as he knows that some travel is coming up, putting it on a shared calendar - both physical and electronic. In the weeks ahead of this trip, he’s reminding you gently, “I leave in a couple weeks”. It’s not to be mean, anything but. It’s to help you mentally prepare for the incoming change. He helps you in little ways in those couple weeks, making sure you have your alarm set automatically, making a meal plan to stick on the fridge and scheduling a grocery delivery with everything you’ll need for it, putting gas in your car in case you need to use it, etc. He also asks you what you’d like to do with your down time while he’s gone, suggesting a binge of a book or TV series that you liked before. He knows you’re not a child and would never treat you as such, but he wants you to feel comfortable going about life as usual when he has to be gone and can’t be there to do those little things for you himself. So he does everything he can to make sure that everything else is as routine as possible. 

Vernon

One of the things he loves most about you is that you guys can just coexist in the same space in total silence. It’s not unusual for you both to sit on opposite ends of the couch, headphones on, doing your own thing. And sometimes, he knows this is your preference to not really talk out loud. Still, he’ll text you to check in, even if you’re just a few feet away from him. Sometimes you have entire conversations through text like this and he really, truly doesn’t mind. There’s something intimate about it for him in a way he can’t really explain, and he likes that you’re comfortable with that mode of communication, even if you’ve had a hard day. Yeah, you’ll have to pry his phone from his cold, dead hands for this reason alone. 

Chan

One night, you tell him you’re feeling pretty anxious. He doesn’t ask why, but he can tell your nervous energy isn’t going to just go away anytime soon. So, he offers for you two to go to the gym. You gape at him. “It's the middle of the night, Chan.” “And the gym is open 24 hours. It’ll probably be empty. Let’s give it a try, maybe you can work off some of your energy.” Midnight trips to the gym are a regular thing for you guys now, because he was totally right. It’s usually empty and it does help shut off your brain enough to go home and get some sleep. You feel bad about it sometimes because of the hours he keeps for his job, but he won’t hear anything about it because he’ll go with you to do anything to put your mind at ease. 

[redtoondevils]

Here it is. My evaluation, of Sun that I am defending from FNAF Security Breach, and the other games he appeared in.

I feel like these points are being overlooked. What I think about how there's characters, along with different forms.

Are so easily perceived as, in one thing or another. I also defend Eclipse too, it's just because they hold both of the personalities into them. I think, it would not make sense for Eclipse to turn against Cassie, after being thankful.

Eclipse has a soft side for kids, and is honestly looking forward into meeting them. Even though sadly, they don't know in an unclear way.

However, he isn't the animatronic to harm kids. He'd never EVER hurt Cassie! That is not his goal. I do think, they'd want to find answers, in their story line. For now, that can wait.

-------------------------------------------------------

I have my key points, as to appose to why I don't view him, as a 'Villain.' the same can apply to Eclipse. Despite being a flaw character.

So, it is already known, that for all 3 forms. The first 2 of the ones sharing this, are very complex characters.

Their history is complicated, along with that with their attributes. With what they decide to do. That impacts, them and can often at times be very challenging for them. When they try to survive.

Even more for what they are seen, they do have some sympathic moments seen, that are part of their development.

It is confirmed, that their personalities more connected other than sharing one body.

One personality can seemingly communicate with the other. They can share their thoughts, feelings, and pain.

That is a very deep character concept, and it has been at times been emotional.

------------------------------------------------------

Sun, in my opinion, is the one who is protecting the other personalities. From harm, and exposure from anything.

This is shown a few times. With that in return, he finds stressful.

Because of that, there is a lot, an awful lot with what he has to endure at times. It came to that point, where he had to 'sacrifice' himself.

When, he wanted to become Eclipse he did that in order to fix Moon, and save him from destruction.

There are other times, where his actions were selfless, and having kindness to protect the main character from harms way.

He doesn't do that, a lot. Whenever he does, that makes me hopeful, in future games that he can be trusted. And he can be your friend.

------------------------------------------------------

In the main game, he kind of appears as a 'Mild antagonist' towards Gregory.

He could not keep the kid in the spot he placed him in, when he didn't listen to him, he felt disrespected. And kicked him out.

His priorities, are very strict. Another reason, for what is speculated, is that the hour was nearly up.

He has the tendency of not allowing the main player to return, or go through to the next location. That is no answer as of yet, why he does this.

I think my theory, is that he keeps you from going there, because there is a ride over at the kids cove, that is broken. And he felt like he had to take those matters, by his own hands.

------------------------------------

There is a section, in the news papers, that has history behind the animatronics. And say's that the daycare attendant has been scaring kids.

The news reports, do not fully reveal the full truth to the stories.

It say's what happened, yet it is still unclear with what really happened. I'm going to say my version of this.

And start off by saying, because there is a lot of people that uses this to materialize the animatronics.

When Monty was reported to have used a bowling bowl to smash Bonnie in his skull, and shutting him down. Assuming that he did that because, he was jealous? It sounds way too extreme.

Monty, in game, appeared as a rogue crocodile that has an explosive temper. Yet, then on the walls, his cartoon self looks much more calmer. And a friendly guy.

Then the attendants report, it say's that a young child was crying, because he was traumatized by both of the forms.

And was given overwhelming anxiety that gave him night terrors.

In my personal take, is that Sun has a harsh interior, I don't want to believe that he deliberately tormented the kid.

I think, that when Sun first appeared towards Gregory, that he would step into his space, and circle around him, to get his attention.

For a young kid, some of them may even find his behaviors intimidating, and intense.

It could be at some point, that he gotten a bit too rough with him.

That seems like from the kids perspective, that he found Sun too energetic. I think he isn't a cruel animatronic. He is harsh, I don't think he's cruel.

However, when he turned into Moon. It is apparent that, he found him too scary.

Then after that incident, and when the attendant heard the reports, is when he felt guilty for doing that.

--------------------------------------

In Ruin, and with a small sequence in HW2. Ruin Sun, meets Cassie once again, and greets her with "New Friend!"

That line makes me believe that he knows Cassie. Because, he said that in a chirpy welcoming, yet relieved greeting. Towards kids.

When that part in the Jumpscare, where Moon attacks her there is a brief moment, where Sun actually did try to refrain himself from attacking her, but sadly couldn't.

The animation where he was afraid, and hiding under the desk having a panic attack being exposed to trauma. DID is associated with experience to trauma, since they were in such physical pain.

He purposely pulls himself away from inflicting harm, or other abuse onto an employee.

That is very considerate, and kindly of him to do that. That is why, I don't think he should be considered as a villain.

Because of how complex he is, his characteristics goes around in many grey coatings that doesn't go too dark.

[unoislazy]

Sneak Peak?

(Arthur Morgan x reader)

Because it’s been so long since I’ve written I feel like I’ve lost my touch a bit. I’m gonna leave a snippet of something I’ve written so far and I would like to know how you guys feel about it!!

Context: Childhood friends to lovers

“I’m in a lot of trouble right now.” He said, nearly out of breath as he grabbed your hand desperately. You stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he was saying as you tried to string together a proper sentence.

“You’ll be alright, right? You always make it out okay.” You said optimistically. The boy in-front of you gave you a charming smile. He had just shown up on your doorstep, which was no different than normal but this time he was winded and bleeding… Your concern was evident through the farrowing of your eyebrows and the worry in your eyes, but you dared not voice them, not now.

“You know I do, but… I don’t think we can stay here for much longer.” He replied, looking back over his back as if he was being watched. You too looked over his back trying to see if you could make out any figures in the area behind him, but to you there was not a soul in sight.

“We?” You asked, taken aback. It was almost as if you had only then processed his words as you took your attention off the empty area of dirt and leaves behind the boy and turned to once again meet his striking blue eyes.

“Me and the gang, we got into some issues with the law and I only have a few hours before I have to go.” He explained. You knew this was going to happen eventually, but even so you still didn’t feel as if you prepared yourself well enough for this day to come.

“Before you leave… I want you to take this.” You quickly grabbed a letter that you had stored in your drawer, in preparation for this day. “I don’t want you to open it until you’re gone, okay?” To that, the boy nodded.

“I promise you I’ll come back to you.”

And with a swift kiss on the forehead, and longing goodbyes, he was gone. That was the last you had seen or heard of the boy named “Arthur Morgan” for quite some time.

Many years had passed at this point and whilst you had never forgotten that boy, you had a strong feeling he had forgotten about you. Or worse.

But it was no concern of yours now, you were grown now. There was no point in delving into the “what ifs” of your childish fantasy. You still lived in the same old house, living a quiet life. A boring yet decent one, you didn’t know why you stayed. You had everything you’d need to leave and lead a more eventful life.

However, deep down you knew why you stayed.

You stayed for him.

On the off chance that that boy would find his way back to you. That he would come back and keep the promise he made to you all those years ago. But the other side of you knew, that was never gonna happen.

Your internal argument continued until you heard a knock on your door.

You brushed off your hands from the residue left over from whatever task you had found yourself partaking in before turning to get the door. You didn’t often get visitors but when you did it was usually just one of your neighbors or a family friend coming to check up on you. So with that expectation in mind, you walked towards the door and grabbed the handle with confidence, twisting and yanking it open with ease while saying your greetings to who you thought would be,

“Mrs. Baker I told you last time, I don’t need any more b-”

You cut your sentence short as your eyes quickly landed upon, not the older woman you expected, but a younger man. He was quite tall and he looked to be about your age, and despite his rough appearance he stood on your porch as awkwardly as a school boy in the front of a class.

“Oh, I’m sorry I thought you were someone else, how can I help you?” You asked, deciding it was best to find out what this man was here for. Upon further inspection, you realized there was a strange nostalgic quality to his face. You couldn’t quite place it before but it felt as if you had seen this man once before.

“I.. uh…” The man started, before he quickly turned towards his satchel and began to dig through it. It didn’t take long for him to grab a thin envelope out and display it. It was clearly opened but a name was visible on the front. “Is there anyone here by this name?” He asked.

You curiously looked towards the envelope and noticed…

It was your name.

Your eyebrows scrunched as you looked from the envelope to the man holding it once again. Why would this man be asking for you…?

It was then you took a closer look at him, he was quite tan, his hair was a gorgeous brown and his eyes…

His eyes

“Arthur…?” You whispered. It couldn’t be.

“How do you know my…” The man before her looked at her with a puzzled look before it quickly clicked with him. How could he not recognize you? Sure it had been several years since he had been back but he prided himself on being able to memorize your features.

Unfortunately the memory betrays one no matter how hard they try to defy it.

[dalishious]

Veilguard Companion First Impressions

So, I’ve finally recruited all the companions for the Veilguard! And as such, I thought I’d share my initial thoughts on them each.

Please keep in mind that as the title says, these are just my first impressions. I am nowhere near finishing the game yet. My thoughts very well may change after getting to know the characters more as the story progresses. Also, please do not take any opinions you do not share as a personal attack against you.

Bellara

Bellara might be my #1 favourite.

I’ve seen some people just say Bellara is “a Merrill rip-off” but I don’t think that’s fair at all. If all it took was a few similarities to say a character is a rip-off of another character, than I can think of so many boring white cishet male characters who would be guilty of that. But heaven forbid we get more than one elven woman who is passionate about her people’s culture and history!

Frankly, I think Bellara is a breath of fresh air in terms of Dalish characters specifically. Finally, a Dalish elf who isn’t punished for being proudly Dalish by the narrative.

I also really appreciate that so much of her can be easily understood by her backstory, too. Like, her feelings of never being good enough is reflective of the very realistic grief she is experiencing.

Lucanis

If Bellara isn’t my #1 favourite, then Lucanis is. They really both dominate that spot neck in neck. I can’t decide if I want to put him in a jar and shake it to see what happens, or wrap him up tight in a quilt and give him some good coffee.

I’m just a sucker for Lucanis’s character archetype, is the thing. I love taking him out simply because he’s so much fun to have around. And in terms of companion arcs, his is the one I am most intrigued to see where it goes.

Taash

(While I haven’t personally gotten to Taash’s non-binary plot yet, I am aware Taash switches to they/them pronouns, so that’s what I’ll be using.)

The moment I met Taash felt my heart skip a beat. The only thing hotter than their appearance is their voice. I know BioWare probably left Taash out of a lot of the advertising because they wanted to keep Taash’s gender stuff a surprise, but oh my god, because of this I was taken by quite the surprise. And so far Taash seems to be the type to keep a hard outer shell to protect a much softer side, and that is yet another character archetype I really love.

Davrin

My initial gripe about Davrin’s writing being so exclusively about Assan rather than Davrin himself is slowly peeling away, I hope. While I still think its bullshit that you can welcome Assan into the Veilgaurd but not Davrin, at least I’ve finally gotten a few bits of dialogue to get to know more about him finally. I just want to keep this momentum! Because Davrin as a concept has so much potential, in my opinion, and what little bits I have gotten from him have captivated me. But I can’t tell yet if it’s intentionally part of his character that maybe he’s just a closed off person who takes a while to trust others, (a little like Taash?) Or if the writer just cared more about griffons than the actual guy. I’m really, really holding out hope for the former.

Emmrich

Emmrich is so much more charming than I expected, and I found him instantly endearing the moment we met him. I also really like that we’re finally hearing some different stances and insight on death and necromancy than we ever had before from a companion! It makes him feel so fresh and completely new!

Harding

I’ll be real with you: I was not anticipating caring about Harding so much. She was who I was originally least interested in, when the companion line-up was announced. But the direction they’re taking her in has me questioning so much about bigger lore questions.

Unfortunately, I still don’t see much in her except being a vessel for those bigger lore questions, though. Like, Harding as a person has me mildly curious at best.

Neve

I’m really sorry Neve fans, but I just find her really boring so far, in comparison to everyone else. She doesn’t have a lot going on, and what she does have going on, doesn’t really captivate me much. Maybe I was just hoping she’d have stronger stances on things than she does? I don’t know.

It could be that I just really fucked up with Neve, and it won’t be until another playthrough that I’ll get to experience more that will change my mind. Because I will admit I am very good at picking choices she disapproves of, with my first Rook.

[thrashkink-coven]

Okay here’s the hard part.

I think a lot about that guy, so called Jesus, and his philosophy of radical forgiveness and empathy. For a long time I thought that was just a line abusers use to force their victims to forgive them (AND IT IS)

But! I also think about Lucifer and the things he taught me regarding the concept of hell. If I was the ruler of hell and I had to manage all these terrible people, what would I do? Torture them? Give them endless suffering so they feel guilty? Do to them what they did to others so they can understand how bad it feels?

Latinos who voted for Trump, oh you disappoint me, but no, I don’t want you to be deported. Women who voted for Trump, *sigh*, no, I don’t want to see you get an ectopic pregnancy or carry your dead baby. No I do not want all those conservative gays to lose their right to marriage. And no, I don’t even want all of those fucked up fascist nazi racists to die.

It would be SO satisfying to see them get what they deserve, right?

God, I’m so sick of being apart of a species that loves to conquer. We bleed, they win, they bleed, we win. I’m sick of patching wounds. All I see is hellfire.

My friend Taylor Mcnallie is facing fraudulent charges because of an altercation that happened while she was protesting in Calgary. The bitch of a cop who assaulted her not only received no punishment, she got a fucking promotion. I remember during one of Taylor’s speeches someone said something like “I hope she gets arrested and goes to jail,” and Taylor said, “I don’t hope she goes to jail. Jail shouldn’t exist. I just want her to get fired and apologize. That’s all I want.”

Pacifism, true pacifism, like the kind that guy preached about, doesn’t mean laying down and accepting every terrible thing assholes do to you with a smile. It means taking away their ability to harm without harming them yourself. Eliminating the evil without becoming evil. Punching nazis does not make you a nazi, but praying for the death and destruction of people, human beings, because you hate them as much as they hate you? *sigh*

The hardest part about this whole radical empathy thing, is the fact that I cannot even wish harm upon those who want me dead. Isn’t that funny? That literal neo nazi, yeah, I hope he has shelter. Fuck I hope that rapist still eats tonight. I hope he feels shame until the day he dies, but I don’t hope he gets raped in prison. I don’t even want him in prison to be honest, I want him to be cared for, and I want his ability to do harm stripped away.

“Even if he hurts a child?”

God damn it, yes. I can’t add more suffering into the world, even if it is inflicted upon the people I’d love to hate most. I want to take away his power to do evil, I want everyone to know what kind of person he is and the terrible things he does so they can keep themselves safe… and then I want him to be safe.

I want all those terfs to have clean drinking water. I know they hate my guts, ugh, it is what it is. But praying that they experience the pain they’ve caused me, hoping that they die or suffer only makes me more like them.

WHICH SUCKS. This way of thinking is NOT satisfying AT ALL!!! Being vindictive and petty is FUN and it FEELS GOOD!!! That’s why it’s so fucking easy, and that’s why we keep eating each other over and over again.

Having said all of this, we should definitely bring back the guillotine lmao. I’m not saying that we should be super nice to people who are trying to kill us, do fight back. If the people need to kill their oppressors to be free then, hey, I’m not going to tell them they’re wrong for that. This isn’t a “we should all hug and sing kumbaya together! Kindness is always the way!!!” take. If the only way to bring death to the empire is to bring death to its owners, then so be it. Do so in the way that produces the least amount of degradation to your soul.

But wishing natural disasters on Texas, hoping that that racist woman’s parents get deported, out of spite and hatred… what are they doing to you? What are you doing to yourself?

Humanity is disgusting, truly truly abhorrent. I want to be able to look at us and embrace us with acceptance of that. Every single fucking terrible person on this earth deserves liberty, life, and freedom. Even when you spit in my face and hurt the people I love, damn it, I won’t hurt you. I see you as a rabid animal that needs to be sedated and slowly acclimated to compassion. And I will keep trying, even if you never learn. I can’t give up on humanity.

This is the most important and the hardest part. I’m not telling you to forgive, forgiveness is for you. If it doesn’t serve you, don’t forgive. But don’t let people without humanity kill the humanity that exists within you. Don’t let hatred fester in your soul. You’re allowed to be mad, hell, you should be furious. Let that fury keep you warm, but do not become a monster too.

To all you stupid fucking fascist pieces of shit, I hope you get exactly what you deserve. And what you deserve is not death, pain or suffering. It’s self reflection and growth, guilt and humility. As much as I would enjoy seeing you hurt, I refuse to become like you. And damn it I love you, I love every human being on this planet. I love you so much that I cannot become you. I love you so fucking much that I will continue to fight for your rights even when you’re trying to take mine away. and I hate that I love you like this, but I can’t stop.

So I will stop you.

- James Baldwin