#mutuals i know we don't talk but if you need anything please reach out

[prazardous]

also i'm sure everyone's in shock or grieving right now. and i'm sorry that i don't have any pretty words for you. but here is what i do have

- diversity and humanity will not be stamped out so easily. if it must, sincerity and joy will thrive in the gutters with the rats

- reach out to your friends, offer what you can where you can (and don't be afraid to say yes to help). small community connections will help us through this. even just venting and solidarity is a start

- do whatever it takes to preserve yourself, no matter what that looks like. maybe that means you can't show up for the things you used to be able to. it's okay, i promise. go slow and do what you need to

- if you need to take time off the internet for your mental health, do it. this is not abandoning your community, this is taking the time you need. we were not designed to cope with a constant stream of live catastrophic news coverage

- if you are the kind of person that is delighted at the current state of affairs instead of in shock or grieving, i hope you choke on shit and die

[incorrectbatfam]

Types of obnoxious batfam stans

Written by an obnoxious batfam stan

Not really a rant but something I've noticed over the years interacting in different spaces and I've decided to make your problem now.

Please note that I'm not saying there's any "right" way to be a fan because we all suck by virtue of being comic nerds, but there are certain kinds of batfamily fans that stick out to be in particular.

Anywho, here are 12 kinds of annoying batfam stans that you've probably run into and you better get a laugh out of it *points gun to your head*.

1) The Newbies Who Never Heard of Google

There's no shame in being new to something. It's a phase that we're all guaranteed to go through, whether we're 11 or 101. However, in this day and age, so many things can be easily googled that you don't need to shout every question you have into the VVorld VVide VVoid. If you need comic recs or a reading list, google it. If you wanna know a character's origin story, google it. If you need to know the color of Batman's underpants in a particular issue in 1965... well that's probably too specific for Google but Reddit will definitely have an answer.

2) The Middle School Authors

Before the 13-year-olds get up in my notes, I'm not saying everyone that age writes like this. Middle school is a state of mind. These fanfic writers usually stand out in a few ways.

They're oftentimes first-person POV or reader-insert. Give Y/N a break, she's tired.

The grammar is stunningly atrocious. I get if you're inexperienced or if you're writing in a second language, but we are in the prime era of autocorrect. If you need help, it's right there. Also, fuck c*nsoring b*d w*rds and fuck "unalive."

The characters do things that are out-of-character because the author is projecting their own personality. Bruce Wayne is a lot of things but he does not listen to the fucking Mountain Goats.

There's a lack of experience or research when it comes to certain topics. That's not how physics works. He can't walk that injury off. And that's definitely NOT how you do the horizontal hokey pokey.

3) The Neckbeards

Unfortunately, these basement-dwelling mouth-breathers tainted the image of what a comic fan is, though that's been changing recently. Still, we've all seen them. They gatekeep via pop quizzes, 'cause obviously you're not a real fan unless you know what page 10 of Batman #138 smells like. They give unsolicited commentary on people's cosplays, nitpicking the guys and being gross toward women. And heaven forbid the comics add a little diversity.

4) The Moviegoers

Nothing inherently wrong with getting into the fandom via the movies, nor is there anything wrong with sticking to that. I just feel like we're two different species of Galapagos finches, you know?

5) The Christopher Nolans

Separate from casual fans of the Nolan movies. I'm calling them the Christopher Nolans because these people have a tendency to reach for the grimdarkest thing possible. It's like they cannot fathom Batman having any other emotions besides punching and gargoyle brooding.

6) The Canon Purists

Wanna share a fun headcanon? NO, because Stephanie Brown never used cherry lip balm in the comics so therefore that must be the absolute truth. These people are a stickler for comic accuracy to the point where it's like... why bother interacting with the fandom in the first place? The worst part is when they're adamant on following a single continuity and refuse to consider anything else. This is comics we're talking about. Everything either has been or will be canon at some point.

7) The Fanon Worshippers

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the people who base their entire perception of the characters on something either they pulled out of their ass or that their mutual with 16 followers came up with, despite evidence directly contradicting it. I love WFA, but I feel like that's partially responsible for further perpetuating certain popular myths. Also, these fans tend to focus solely on the batfam/their ships. It's one thing to have some people in the foreground vs. background, but put some respect to Bart Allen's name you goddamn cheesecakes.

8) The Golden Age Dads

These guys aren't really obnoxious. I actually find it kind of cute how they think Jason Todd is still dead.

9) The Chronically Online

I have a rule of thumb when it comes to discourse: if it's not something I'd hear about at a bar, it's not worth my mental energy. Some people haven't gotten the memo, though.

These are either the well-intentioned but misinformed teenagers or grown-ass adults beefing with children because they don't have a life. They have takes that are oversimplified, rage-inducing, TikTok algorithm attention-grabbers that no one cares about in real life.

Don't get me wrong, we've got a bunch of issues in comics and fandom that are worth discussing. However, there comes a point where you're splitting hairs and need to go the fuck outside. I'm not gonna link the post 'cause I don't wanna call them and their 7 notes out, but the other week I saw someone saying Stephcass was a racist ship because something something colonialism parallel. You gotta be Elastigirl to have that kind of reach.

10) The Corporate Simps

I love comics. I appreciate the writers and artists. However, you will find my carcass in a ditch before you catch me licking the boots of DC/Warner Bros. Basically, these fans, fewer as they are, can't seem to fathom that their favorite franchise can (and does) put out some steaming motherfucking garbage.

11) The Hot Cosplayers

Not actually annoyed, I'm just a little jealous. Stop being hotter than me, please and thank you.

12) The One With A Punchline For Everything

Wait–

[niceboyeds]

but daddy i love him (e.m)

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: sometimes you have to put the gossipers in their place, and sometimes you have to give them something to talk about. inspired by none other than the masterpiece that is The Tortured Poets Department!

contains: bullying, fluff, language, sexual innuendos if you squint, i think that's it but please reach out if i missed anything!

word count: 1.2K

a/n: hi babies I'm baaaack! with that said I'm rusty so please don't hurt my feelings lmao. i have an idea for a smutty pt. 2 if enough of you want it! okay here we go...

(tagging some mutuals so i don’t get lost in the blackhole: @luvmunson @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @munsonology @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @espressomunson 🫶)

masterlist

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

there was always something exciting about being with a bad boy. but then again, there was nothing “bad” about Edward Munson. he may get a bad rap but, aside from his lunchbox goodies, he is a gentleman before anything else. and a damn good lover. 

you sit in the diner with your friends, snickers and snide remarks could be heard all throughout the room and dozens of eyes burn into the back of your head for what felt like the millionth time. unfortunately that’s one of the prices to pay living in a small town like Hawkins.

Eddie is better than you, though, and doesn’t let it get the best of him. and while you know you could never physically fight someone, you still aren’t shy enough to threaten it. you are, to put it gently, less “reserved” with your words, and make sure to put the lonely housewives and their preppy children in their place about their assumptions of him. 

things have gotten worse as your dating life has expanded out beyond the four walls of Eddie’s quaint trailer or the few friendly drunks at the hideout once a week. you and Eddie both craved being together in public and decided long ago that you don’t care who has something to say about it. 

besides, you know who the real Edward Munson is, you don’t believe what the judgmental church-goers or ex-cheerleaders think of you. the only time it gets you is when you can see it hurting him. 

throughout lunch you keep one hand in his, feeling him tense up every so often when he hears his name come out of their mouths. 

“i wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak!” you hear from a group of your old classmates’ table followed by an eruption of laughter. 

Eddie squeezes your hand three times before letting go, scooting his chair out from the table and excusing himself to the restroom. the friends at your table all look to you for the next move, enough looks of defeat for you to end this once and for all. with a soft smile, you throw a $20 bill on the table and rise from your seat. 

“sorry guys.” you sigh, motioning for them to gather their things to leave as you push in your chair and make your way to the table across the room. Dustin trots his way to the restroom to grab Eddie as you hear Robin say your name softly, urging you to leave it be but everyone knows you can’t.

“hey guys! how are you?” you beam at your old friends, doing your best to smile at them. “Stacy, Lauren, Molly…” you exaggerate her name, informing her you heard her comment loud and clear. 

mumbles of good’s and small nods emit from them and their eyes bounce to one another nervously. “aw that’s so good to hear!” you beam, “i’m doing great too, in case you were curious. ya know, i couldn’t help but overhear you guys chatting over here and i just felt like i needed to come say hi.” their smiles drop immediately as you talk, and you let them sit in their fear of what you’ll say next. 

“yeah, you know what they say… once a bitch always a bitch, right?” silence fills the diner and you hear Max cough to cover her giggle at the door. 

“i’m sorry?” Lauren scoffs, genuinely unable to comprehend the fact that you might be putting them in their place. 

“aw, you should be. because let’s face it, it’s pretty embarrassing that we graduated years ago and you still act like this.” you look at them with pure disgust, knowing they haven’t changed in the slightest. you speak with confidence, your tone still friendly, “and to think you used to truly care for me.”

“w-we do still care for you. we just want what’s best for you.” Stacy chirps as the other two nod along with her.

“what’s best for me? pretending like you’re all some fucking saints walking around and saying you’re praying for me to ‘come to my senses’ as if i have no control over my own life? who i love is my choice, so save your prayers for yourself because you’re the most judgmental creeps i’ve ever met.”

you turn to leave, your sweet group of friends still standing by the door waiting for you, Eddie having joined them just in the heat of your argument. reaching for his hand, you crack open the door and turn one last time to their table. 

“and by the way? i’m having his baby!” their eyes widen with horror and their mouths fall agape as you follow Eddie through the door and giggle, skipping to be directly next to him.  

“woah, woah, woah?! you’re pregnant??” Steve asks, genuinely unsure as you laugh at his question. 

“no, i’m not. but oh my god did you see their faces??” 

Eddie chuckles alongside you, and you feel relieved he’s made light of the situation along with you. “yeah, not yet.”

~~~~~~~~

you sit on the couch with Eddie seated directly in front of you on the shaggy carpet. one by one you twirl his messy curls into ringlets with an unfathomable amount of hair products. you feel his once tense body relax against your knees as he twiddles with the frayed pieces of your blue jeans. 

“it’s true, y’know…” he says softly, barely above a whisper. 

“what’s that?” you ponder, curious more-so as to why his tone has saddened during your comfortable silence.

“what they all say. that you’d be better off with someone else- someone other than me..?”

“no, i don’t think they know what the hell they’re talking about.” your hands continue to work on his hair, with only a few sections left you couldn’t allow yourself to leave it be. But you continue to reassure him. 

“Eds, i don’t care that they think i shouldn’t be with you. i want to be with you. I love you. isn’t that what matters? not what all these bored-ass people think, but what we want?” 

“you… you love me?” he turns his head to face you once you drop the final curl back against his head. an ear to ear grin plastered on his face and his eyebrows wiggle. 

“of course i love you, silly. i love you more than i have the words to express.” you tell him truthfully, knowing in your heart that he is the man for you. 

“i love you too. i love you so fucking much.” 

he stands up from his crouching position, pulling you up from the couch with him. your lips instinctively crash into his. 

you interlock your fingers around his neck, trying to bring him closer to you as if you weren’t already impossibly close to him. you sloppily kiss each other before you pull away from him, a small string of saliva still connecting you to him as your lips separate. 

“eww!” you laugh, before pulling him by the hand and dragging him down the hallway to his bedroom. “come on, slow poke!”

“hey! i thought you said you weren’t having my baby.” he teased, bringing up the silly comment you had said earlier at the diner. 

“yeah, not yet.”

[joelscruff]

need to know that i want you (joel miller x reader) 18+

this fic is part of my soft!dom joel universe; each fic can be read as stand-alone for the most part but there is an ongoing story that can be found on my masterlist. this one takes place after "for what it's worth". summary: joel calls you his good girl for the first time. rating: 18+ explicit (minors do not interact) warnings: fem!reader, age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 50s), dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), praise kink (excessive use of 'good girl'), dirty talk, mutual masturbation, squirting, if i forgot something pls lmk word count: 3.3k ao3

"So you do actually know how to do as you're told."

About ten minutes ago he'd told you to sit in the chair by the fireplace again like you had last week, this time angled so you were looking directly at him. In a quiet murmur he'd asked you to take off your jeans and sit there in your panties until he told you what to do next. In the meantime, he'd sat back against the couch to look at you, cupping himself through his jeans and telling you softly not to move, not to touch yourself.

You'd obeyed.

You don't know how or why but his words somehow have a power over you, his orders deep and smooth, voice slightly rough around the edges with arousal. If he were anyone else you doubt you'd be so obedient. If he were anyone else you'd probably already be grinding yourself in his lap, panties discarded on the hardwood floor.

But he's not anyone else. He's Joel. Mysterious Joel who lives a few houses down from you but whom you rarely see, quiet Joel who eats his meals in the dining hall and slips out every evening before anyone notices, grumpy Joel who rolls his eyes at you when you don't listen to him.

The Joel who suddenly wants to look at you while he jerks off, which you're certainly not complaining about.

"Only when it's you who's asking," you reply, trying not to let any breathlessness or nervousness slip past your lips; you're not sure what his plan is for tonight. Last week was the first time you'd done anything like this with him so you have no idea what to expect. It's thrilling and nerve-wracking at the same time.

He rolls his eyes but you can tell he's not mad or irritated, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "So if I told you to go outside and check the perimeter..."

You grimace, "Okay, there are exceptions."

He laughs then, shaking his head and giving you a sexy half smile, "You're somethin' else, aren't you?"

"Don't pretend you don't like it," you reply with a smirk.

His eyes find yours and darken slightly, "I do like it," he says quietly, almost a soft growl, "Wouldn't be sittin' here if I didn't, would I?"

Your cheeks burn, a pleased smile playing at your lips.

"What do you want to see me do for you?" you ask quietly, gauging his reaction. To your relief he smiles again, his eyes trailing down to your panties and back up to your face.

"Let me just ask you one more time... do you still want this?"

"Yes," it's probably the fifth time he's asked you in the past few hours. He'd literally started out the patrol by telling you that if you wanted to forget about what happened it would be okay, that he would forget about it too and never talk about it again. You'd been very quick to assert that you didn't - under absolutely any circumstances - want to forget about it. He'd nodded, but it hadn't stopped him from asking you again once you'd reached the top of the mountain, and a few more times throughout your patrol.

"And you want what we talked about?" he continues, voice serious but tender, "You want me to take control?"

"Yes, please," you tell him for the fifth time, "That's what I want."

He nods slowly, exhaling and leaning back further on the couch until he's in the position he wants; head back, legs open, hand on the solid length of his cock through his pants.

"Open your legs," he says quietly, eyeing you hungrily once again.

Without any hesitation you do as you're told, spreading your legs in the chair and showing him the dark and wet spot on your panties. You'd picked these ones out specifically for this occasion, arguably your sexiest pair. You haven't had a reason to wear them in probably three or four years due to their impracticality and discomfort, but those reasons hardly matter in a situation like this.

"Those are pretty," he murmurs, and you can't help but feel a rush of pride at his words. Exactly the reaction you'd been hoping for.

"Wore them for you," you reply and look down at them, eyeing the sheer white lace and the little pink bow at the front, "Wanted to look nice."

"You always look nice," he says, and you blush redder.

"Wanted my pussy to look nice," you correct yourself, and you watch him inhale sharply, hand curling firmly around the shape of his cock. He may have control but you're already learning what makes him tick, what makes him come apart.

"It does," his expression fades back into one of calmness, steadiness, "Although, I think somethin's wrong with them."

You frown, looking down at yourself and back up at him, "What?"

"There's a big stain," he says with a smirk, "Wonder what that could be from?"

You shiver at the words. You could come up with some kind of comeback to keep him on his toes like you normally would, but somehow you know that the argumentative part of you doesn't belong here. Instead, you bite your lip and look down at yourself again, eyeing the large spot on your panties you've completely soaked through with arousal.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, "I guess I got 'em all wet."

He inhales deeply and tugs his zipper down, and you can't help but hold your breath as you watch him pull his cock out of his jeans, long and thick. The image of it from last time has been etched in your mind all week but seeing it in person again is simply incomparable. It's curved slightly, straining alongside the buttons of his shirt, the head wide and plump, already wet and sticky. You feel yourself begin to salivate, gaze rooted in place as your lips unconsciously fall open.

"You got me all wet, baby," he says softly, pressing his thumb gently against the tip and smearing his own wetness down his shaft, "Look at that. That's what you do to me."

Your skin is suddenly on fire and you realize that while you may know how to tease him, how to turn him on, he ultimately has the upper hand. His words have you swallowing back a moan without even being touched.

"Lean back," he orders quietly, and you obey, shirt riding up as your back comes in contact with the plush frame of the chair, "Open your legs a bit wider for me, that's it." His eyes stay trained on the wet spot of your panties, "Wider, baby, lemme see."

You spread your legs as wide as they'll go, ankles dangling off the armrests of the chair.

"Pull those pretty panties to the side," he murmurs, "Let me see that pussy."

You bite down hard on your lip, another involuntary moan threatening to slip out. You reach down and yank the material to the left, showing him exactly where you're dripping for him. Your fingers tremble, pulling your panties taut against your thigh, waiting for him to tell you what to do next. He just keeps staring at where you're leaking, pumping his dick slowly up and down while he gets his fill. You use your other hand to open yourself slightly, fingers still trembling as you show him the inner most part of yourself.

"What do you think of it?"

"Of what?" he asks, voice low and sultry, his brown eyes looking at you with a dark desire that makes you squirm.

"My pussy," you scissor your fingers a bit more, opening yourself wider for him, "Do you like it?"

He groans, fisting his cock again, "Jesus."

"Do you?"

"I do," he murmurs, eyes still dark as his gaze trails along your aching center, staring directly at where you're open for him as he fucks himself slowly, "So wet and pretty. All for me."

"It is," you breathe, "It's all yours."

He closes his eyes and tosses his head back, still stroking himself at a steady rhythm. You can't help but feel another flush of pride at how much you're wrecking him just by sitting there.

"Take 'em off," he says, still looking at the ceiling.

You make quick work of shimmying in the chair and tugging your panties down your legs, discarding them on the floor. You lean back into the same position, legs wide and open, totally exposed.

He tilts his head back down, skin red with arousal, "Touch your clit, pretty girl."

You shiver at the pet name and do as you're told, rubbing slow circles into your most sensitive spot and keening at the sensation, biting your lip. Your middle finger teases your entrance, hole pulsing at the tiny intrusion.

"No fingers yet, baby," he says immediately, and you feel yourself pout, removing your middle finger and continuing to stimulate your clit, "I know, it's just aching to have something in there, isn't it?" he breathes, words sending goosebumps across your flesh, "So empty."

"Can you touch it?" you whisper, trying to keep your voice even, "Want you to touch me so bad, Joel."

"Not tonight," he replies, voice strained, and you want to ask him when? Next time? The time after that? "You just keep touching yourself, okay? Be a good girl for me."

The words stop you in your tracks, fingers stilling on your clit for just a second before resuming their steady circular motion, not long enough for him to notice. Your mind is suddenly running wild with thoughts, a warm and fuzzy sensation trickling from the top of your head and down your back. Good girl.

You don't know why but the words ring repeatedly in your ears for a few moments after he says them, your cunt throbbing and dripping even more. Such a simple little phrase, something he probably didn't even think much about as he said it, but your body has never reacted to two words like this. Immediately, all you want is for him to say it again.

"Where'd you go?" he asks quietly, and you bring your attention back to him quickly; he'd noticed your reaction.

"N-nowhere," you reply breathlessly.

His hand has stilled on his cock, brow furrowing as he peers at you from the couch, "Do you want to stop?" he asks.

"No," it's almost a squeak, a panicked sound that you're sure you've never made before, "No, keep going, please."

Good girl, it repeats over and over in your mind as you rub yourself, Good girl, Good girl, Good girl. Suddenly all you want is to be Joel's good girl, do whatever he tells you to do, obey his every whim. You don't know where this is coming from; you're such a stubborn and strong person, never taking shit, always standing up for yourself, so why do you suddenly want to belong to him? You feel ridiculously close to your orgasm at the very thought, slowing your movements for fear of pushing yourself over the edge.

"You're distracted," he says, bringing you back to reality again, "Did I do something?"

"I'm just..." you whimper, closing your eyes tight and feeling your skin burn, "I'm so close, Joel. This is..." you moan, releasing your clit and trailing your fingers down the soft skin of your inner thigh to center yourself, "This is too much, I'm gonna come."

"Jesus," he says, voice rough, "It doesn't take much, does it?"

You shake your head, eyes still closed, "It really doesn't, not with you."

You open your eyes to see him adjusting himself on the couch, leaning back and spreading his legs almost as wide as yours, though his thighs are constricted by his jeans. You want him to take them off but you don't say anything, wanting to keep this power dynamic the way it is, want to keep being his good girl.

"Then just keep rubbing that pretty little clit for me," he murmurs, and you swear you can see his cock throbbing in his palm, the veins running along the girth of it pulsing under his fingertips, "Show me what makes you feel good."

"You make me feel good," you whimper, prodding your clit again gently, trying not to be too rough.

"I know I do," his voice is wrecked, those familiar red splotches you love beginning to bloom on his collarbone, "But you gotta be patient, baby. Gotta be a good girl for me."

"Oh fuck," you take your fingers off your clit again and bring your hands up to your face, trying to hide the pure ecstasy you're experiencing just by hearing him say those words.

"What is it?" you hear him ask, then hear the slap of his palm against his belly as he strokes himself harder, getting turned on by your shyness, "Don't hide, baby, tell me."

You shudder, biting down hard on your lip "I really like when you say that," you bring your hands down from your face and you're sure you must look completely debauched, ridiculously close to falling apart after barely any effort on his part at all.

"Say what?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, genuinely curious, "What did I say?"

You shiver as you quietly whisper, "Good girl."

His brows unfurl, recognition appearing on his face as he exhales heavily and breathes, "Yeah? You like me callin' you a good girl?"

"Yes," you whine, "Oh my god, say it again please."

He smirks, glad to be in on your little secret, "Good girl," he breathes, "That's my good girl, my special and pretty girl, so wet and swollen for me."

Oh fuck.

"More," you whimper, "More, please."

"You really want me dead, don't you?" it's almost a laugh, shaky and broken.

"No, I just want you to keep calling me a good girl," you should be embarrassed at the very notion, but those pesky emotions don't exist in this space with him.

"You're a good girl," he groans, fisting himself roughly with barely any hesitation, "You're such a good girl for me, doin' exactly what I say, showin' me that pretty little pussy, touchin' it just the way you like," he groans then and you know he's close, just needs another push, "Shove two fingers in, baby. Get that pussy all full for me."

With a gasp of relief you push your middle and index fingers inside your throbbing hole, breath hitching at the sudden fullness. You squirm in the chair, keeping your eyes on Joel as he pumps himself over the edge.

"That's it," he growls, tossing his head back, "Oh, Christ, that's it. Good girl, baby, good girl." You watch as thick ropes of come begin to spurt from the fat head of his cock, making a mess against the fabric of his shirt yet again.

You moan loudly at the sight and he looks at you, eyes bleary and half-open, lips parted and brows furrowed as he continues to pump himself through his orgasm, "Come, pretty girl," he groans, voice broken and husky, "Drench that fucking chair for me like a good girl."

You press your thumb to your clit and let out a strangled sound, a mix of a cry and a moan, letting your body ride out the perfection of this moment. There's something different about this orgasm, a wild release building in your belly that you can't describe, and without meaning to you lose your balance on the chair and find yourself slipping from the cushion, landing on the floor with a hard thud. Joel looks concerned for a moment but quickly realizes he has nothing to worry about, eyes widening at what follows.

"Oh my fucking god," you whimper, and you're absolutely shocked as you find yourself squirting for the first time, something you've never done and never thought you could even do, pussy spraying a thick stream of clear liquid onto the hardwood floor. You feel your eyes roll back and your limbs go limp, spots behind your lids as you twitch and writhe under Joel's gaze.

You're vaguely aware of him saying something to you but it's just white noise in your ears, mind foggy and body like jelly as you lay there on the floor with your eyes closed. You can feel your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths so you know he's not worried that you've passed out or something, but when he speaks again you finally open your eyes to see him standing above you.

"What?" you ask, voice faint and quiet.

"I'm gonna get a towel for you, just stay there," he says, and you notice that he's zipped his pants back up. You feel slightly disappointed that you didn't get one last look at his cock before he put it away.

"M'kay," you reply, and close your eyes again.

-

"Now that was filthy," Joel mutters a few moments later, mopping the floor with a towel as you continue to lay there still and satisfied, "Hottest fuckin' thing I've ever seen, but filthy."

You hum, smiling softly with your eyes still closed, "You know, I've never done that before."

"Really?" he sounds genuinely shocked and you open your eyes to catch his expression, looking at you in wonder, "Never?"

"Never," you reply with a cheeky grin, "And what about you? You ever called someone a good girl during sex before?"

He shakes his head, "Never."

You feel warmth rush through your body at the admission, trying not to smile too wide as you stretch your arms above your head, trying to bring your body back to reality. Joel finishes wiping the floor and stands over you once again, reaching his hand out to you. You take it, loving how strong and firm his grip is as he pulls you up from the floor.

He walks back to the couch and lays back down on it with a tired grunt, eyes on you as you pull your panties back on and peer over at him with pleased eyes.

Never. He's never called anyone a good girl but you.

"Call me that from now on," you say softly, tugging your jeans back on. He stares at you thoughtfully, nodding slowly.

"You sure?"

"Yes," you seat yourself on the end of the couch then, eyeing the wet cushion in the chair across from you, "You saying that made me squirt, Joel. I think it's safe to say I liked it." He still looks lost in thought, "You did too, right?"

He nods slowly again, "I did."

"Then that's that," you shrug, and he keeps looking at you, tilting his head slightly like he's analyzing you, "What?"

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just keeps looking at you, then shakes his head and breaks eye contact, looking at the floor, "Nothin'," he says quietly, "Let's go to sleep."

You desperately want to know what he's thinking but you know asking won't get you anywhere. He's probably the most closed off person you've ever met and you wonder if you'll ever get a proper answer from him about anything.

"Can I sleep on the couch?" you ask softly, "The chair's all wet."

You swear you see the hint of a smirk in his expression, "Yeah, 'course you can."

You lean back on your end of the couch and watch as he does the same on his end, extending his legs out along the cushions. Your legs squeeze in between his and the backrest of the couch, and you realize that this is the closest you've ever been to him. He's warm and large and safe, a guarding and protective force against your body in the quietness of the ski lodge.

"Goodnight," he says quietly, turning down the electric lantern and plunging the room into darkness.

"Goodnight," you whisper back.

You've never felt more relaxed.

thank you for reading 💖 i hope yall liked this one, please let me know your thoughts! and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip.

[sapphirerogers]

What if we start a petition (aka protest/movement/pressure building) for Marvel to release the Stevebucky scene from CATWS?

We know that scene in the Quinjet had been filmed. Chris mentioned it. All we need to do is pressurise @marvelentertainment enough. They've got to listen at some point, if we keep insisting strongly enough and for long enough.

If released, it may not undo the atrocity that Endgame was, but it will provide much needed to these two characters and their dynamic after being reunited.

If it is still not released, we will still have made a statement - that we're still an active and thriving fandom and we can come together when needed for a good cause, to do the things one or two of us can't alone.

I know it looks hopeless, and I don't blame you for losing faith. But believe it or not, each of us Stevebuckies have the power to change that. All we need to do is come together, and stay together.

Think about how big we are as a fandom. All we need is unity and reach. I don't have the number of followers needed to get this post to enough people at once, but I can try regardless. Somebody has to start, and if it must be me, I'll do anything needed. It's going to be worth it.

I'll be making this post everyday, or at least as often as I can. I'll be tagging some of my Stucky shipper mutuals here, and I need everyone who sees this and agrees with me (whether you ship them romantically or just care enough about their friendship) to reblog this as many times as you can. Flood their social media.

This protest needs a special tag, so let's call it #ReleaseStuckyCWScene (don't forget this tag; we want those who just want fics or other posts to be able to filter this out if they don't want this)

Should you choose to join me, please make this post frequently and tag Marvel in every post. Do this on all platforms where you're active, regardless of how many people you know and how many followers you have. And please use tags where they're applicable.

Taking one day out of each year to jointly talk about Stucky is not enough. We need to be consistent. I need patience and perseverance from all of you.

I believe in every single one of you. Let's fucking do this. Starting right now.

@mainly-marvel @oneofstarkskids @jjmaybanksgun @slut-for-henry-cavill @stuckyfingers @amarriageoftrueminds @imposterogers @artwinx @capibuck @uninspired-platypuss

(reply here if you want to be on this taglist)

[kandyzee]

No hate to this creator in particular but I'm gonna explain why I think they're wrong cause I've seen this kinda thinking get pretty popular recently (especially on tiktok.)

Mickey can't "treat her however he pleases," and you know that straight away cause if he could, I doubt he would have had any kind of relationship with her past their first interaction. Mickeys life very nearly depends on how Terry treats him. He truly thinks he will be killed if Terry finds out he's gay. Given that Svetlana was used to "fuck him straight" she has a lot of control on if it seems to work or not. If Svetlana had said anything, mickey very realistically could have been killed. Implying that he has sole control over Lana also implies that Terry was never a real threat, that mickey isnt scared of what he could do to him or Ian, that mickey whiling brought her into his home and so many smaller things that likely are not the case.

Mickey and svet are both dependent on Terry (the REAL abusive man) for survival. Obviously, Svetlana I a different way. Her situation is harder to talk about cause we really don't know much about how her and mickey came to be in the situation they are in. I imagine it was her boss (pimp? Idk what the right word would be) Who found out she was pregnant and told Terry. Svetlana probably didn't know who the father was. If she was the one to reach out, there were probably better people she could assume the dad is. Terry taking her wasn't a plan she had, but instead, an opportunity for escape she reluctantly needed to take. If she wants to survive, she needs to get Terry to like her and let her stay. She isn't bothered with getting mickeys approval at this point. She isn't stupid. She understands that mickeys voice wouldn't be listened to either way.

I think viewing mickey as the one who's abusing her ignores how Svetlana was greatly mistreated by Terry. We don't see that because Terry isn't as important of a character. It's referenced multiple times that Terry sleeps with Svetlana. It would be stupid to assume that was completely consensual. Sex has always been the key to her survival. This is why I think this factor of the whole family dynamic is so important. She's using the only thing she's knows to win Terry over, to gain his trust and keep her place at home. We see her doing this again when Terry is locked up, and she still talks to him. Sure, mickey is the one actually living with her, but it's Terry she's dependent on.

AND SHE KNOWS THAT.

Something else that this viewpoint does is make svetlana seem helpless. Her situation is horrific, but she is smart and is very capable of taking care of herself. She knows mickey isn't the one in charge. She knows mickey has no choice. She knows how to make the best out of a bad situation.

"How do yk she understands all that??" Cause of the way she talks to mickey. If she was truly dependent on Mick, if he really was the one abusing her, why does she threaten him? Why does she talk back? She never does that with Terry. She will shout and insult mickey, but she doesn't speak around Terry.

OKAY NEXT THING I WANNA TALK ABOUT.

No one is saying mutual abuse. The person they are replying to wasn't even saying that. Two victims of the same person taking their trauma out on each other because they have no other outlets isn't mutual abuse. The clear power imbalance that op is talking about isn't between mickey and svet it's between the two and Terry. Neither can risk being angry at Terry, so even though they probably both know the other isn't really to blame, they are angry at each other instead.

Even during the show, u see how their relationship changes after mickey comes out. So much stress is taken off their shoulders, and they get along much better. Mickey gets more involved with parenting, and svetlana is a lot more soft and affectionate. Ians involvement is important to this change, but I don't feel it's necessary to get into that.

Anyway end of rant might talk more about this again later who knows

[anantaru]

You think rape is funny? Maybe once you fucking experience it you won’t. Fucking cunt.

hello. so I'll just jump right into this. tw. discourse tw. mentioning r*pe.

@saetoru made this claim about me:

saetoru, could you add proof at least? i can not remember a time where i would repost a joke like that so i'd love for you to show me proof please, this is all I'm asking.

also how was it on your dash, on your own dash and @dottores dash, when you have never followed me? + but maybe it was the for you feature that was the same for the both of you.

accusing someone without proof is not okay, again, i can not remember doing this so if you have a screenshot add it so i can remember and apologize, but i can't do anything because i don't remember saying a joke with SA in mind.

before that i just want to mention: i don't think r*pe is funny, i'm not a dark content blog either so i do not really reblog dark content things because i'm sure most of my readers don't want that + I'm just not into that as well. the only joke i was "called out" for once is when i used a "i want xyz character to smack their laptop on my face or tits" which i got from an andrew garfield interview where he read his thirst tweets out loud, at that time i just deleted it because it's alright.

dottores, your mutuals, two of them to be exact, have sent me multiple of your personal blog hate posts about me and not once, have you made one where you talked about me saying an SA joke. you have only claimed that i am a cunt and that i am a gatekeeping bitch hence why i believed this must be the reason why you would suddenly hate me despite the fact we never interacted.

now, I want to address this next, this is from @dottores post which when i got it sent to me, i would've wished she just tagged me right away and said it with her chest, more so not let saetoru talk about her experience but just handle this with me.

^ this is cat @dottores saying i got it wrong.

^ this is why i believed she meant it just like i said it, why do you go through blogs that grow really fast's notes in the first place? where do you take the right to police other blogs like that when i'm sure your blogs aren't empty of blank blogs either. it is hard to get rid of all of them but i'm sure we all try at least, we don't need you to make us feel bad or come off as belittling, if you have found out a way to get rid of every blank blog, do enlighten us please.

+ at that time of this reblog icks?? post that saetoru added, my blog was blowing up so when a moot of mine (which was also theirs at a time) saw this, they had sent it to me.

"creators that grow really fast" and nowhere has she mentioned she only went through only her own moots notes, aside from that apologies but i still find this weird, i don't think you should invest so much time in other people's blog but this is my opinion.

this is the next thing she said:

i don't know if dottores meant me there but i have never once harassed you nor sent you hate anywhere, again you cannot just accuse me of stuff like that when you have also never reached out to me. The things i claimed about you guys in your callout, i have text messages of the person (your moot) who sent it to me.

but back again, the only thing i did do was block dottores on tumblr and then later ao3 when i saw you in tags, which you made fun of me for later:

also i got this ask that time:

"who blocks on ao3?" i do, ao3 is the platform i use the most so why is it funny when i use the block button? + i just like to point something out here, "they must've clicked to read and realize it was me" you can think that if you want i don't mind, but let me ask you this: i have seen you in tags hence why i was able to block you, but how did you notice i did? you can't see me in tags so surely you didnt click on my work, so you must've searched up my user for whatever reason?

and i know this is about me because she added the "this person called me chronically online" i couldn't find the post but what she was talking about is me calling other writers who reblogged that one "ick post" with not needed things such as "when writers cant characterize a character" or "when they only write headcanons", i have plenty of screenshots of that post but since i don't want to use up all my space here, i don't see why i should show their reblogs from this.

there were plenty of people like that, which reblogged horrible things there so i called everyone under that post chronically online, not just you dottores.

yeah :) like people making fun of someone for blocking them for their own comfort. i just don't want to see you, that's all, but i have never send you hate asks nor harassed you, the only thing i did was block the blogs your own mutuals exposed to me.

next:

^ this is after i felt bad for you after the callout.

this is coming from your own mutuals, i have never alone claimed you guys are jealous of me nor is there anything to be jealous about. i am just a blog, this here is not being popular, no one knows who i am and i do not need to pride myself in having a big blog on tumblr.com, and my readers know that. we are all the same here.

next:

i didn't mean you here saetoru but i understand that it sounded that way, the phrasing was a little off, for that i apologise that i made you upset with this, english is not my first language, i'm french, and when it comes to this callout post i was so fed up with it that i just posted it without looking for grammar mistakes etc. + this is about one of your friends who deleted their personal the second i announced i got their user, that was something with kaeya, when they sent me a hate ask. i won't expose it here but that person was also the one who blacklisted a friend of mine for liking itto.

i think there is a lot more but i will stop it there, this could've ended differently and i'm sad that it ended this way. I wish you all the best and i mean it, i hope we all can learn from this and move on, write on tumblr for our favorite characters because it's fun and stay away from drama. If you made it this far thank you 💓 — yoru

[httpiastri]

❣️I dont think its really a prompt, but can you do smth along the lines of how the feelings confession would go with luke, logan, oscar and jak? Like who would do it, how, context, etc. Sorry if it's a boring ask, just wondering. No problem if you don't want to do it

❣️ – send me a prompt and one/a few drivers and i'll tell you how i think they would react!!

luke browning

to me, luke is definitely acquaintances to friends to something more coded. it happens very slowly with him, but somehow it all feels so natural; you go from barely knowing each other to being so important to each other and neither of you really understand how that happened. luke is a confident guy, though, and there's something inside of him telling him that you feel the same way he does.

so when he gets the chance (when the two of you trip over each other's feet and fall to the floor, faces mere centimeters away when he hovers over you; or when you're out clubbing and you're "accidentally" pressed up too close to each other), he takes it.

"please tell me i'm not the only one who feels like this," he says, breath hitching in his throat, but he pushes through. "please tell me you want this as much as i do. because i really do want this."

logan sargeant

personally, i see logan as someone who would be quite straightforward. i see it happening one evening after you, him and a bunch of your mutual friends have gone out for dinner, and he offers to walk you home. after a slow stroll through the chilly night air, the two of you finally reach your doorstep, you're about to say goodbye when logan asks "can i be honest with you?"

you tell him that of course he can be honest with you – you've been friends for a long time, you won't judge. "there's something i need to get off my chest," he says, his gaze darting around for a while before meeting yours. "you've probably noticed, because i think i act a little different around you, but... i think i really like you, and i would love to see if we could be something more than just friends."

oscar piastri

oscar is very perceptive and analytical, but unfortunately this also often leads to a lot of overthinking. he notices all of the subtle signs you give him – the way you touch his shoulder when you laugh, the way your eyes light up when he tells you about his day, the way you always lean closer to him when talking as if you're instinctively drawn to him – but there are still a lot of things that make him doubt. so, naturally, it takes him quite a while to work up the courage to say something. the thoughts live in his head for so long, his wishes to be more than just friends eating him up from the inside, until he eventually just snaps.

"i need you to know something," he tells you one day, his fears heavy on his shoulders. "it's alright if you don't feel the same way. really. but... i really enjoy spending time with you. and I think you're a great person, and I..." oscar has to shake his head and let out a low chuckle at himself and his inability to get to the point. "and I like you. i really hope you like me, too."

jak crawford

following up on the brother's best friend theme, i think that it would take him quite some time to grow comfortable with the fact that he's crushing on the sibling of his friend. even when he first realizes that his feelings for you aren't just platonic, he tries to fight it and pretend like everything is normal. but it isn't and there's just no way for him to ignore it.

the first thing he does is ask your brother for permission; jak is comfortable enough with him and knows that without your brother's approval, there can never be anything between you. but thankfully, your brother gives his blessing and tells jak that his fingers will be crossed for a new brother-in-law. (to which the american boy just groans and states that it's way too early for that)

i see jak as the type to be spontaneous and just go for it when the moment feels right. very possibly after a good race result, when he's tipsy from the podium champagne and drunk on happiness. when you stumble upon him in the paddock, and he feels his heart swelling in his chest as you wrap your arms around him, he doesn't care if there are people around. he leans closer to your face, giving you a few moments to pull away if you want to – but when he sees the lack of hesitation from your side, he leans in to press his lips to yours.

"sorry, i couldn't stop myself... is this alright? because... i kinda want more."

[vsaintsin]

Writeblr Re-Intro

Yo! I'm V Saintsin. Or V or Vin or Saintsin or whatever you want to call me that sounds right on your tongue. I'm a self-proclaimed Social Media fumbler who got a late start to the party and has never quite figured it out. I hate how hipster and edgy it sounds to say "I'm bad at social media" but like I used to work with some people who actually managed the social media accounts for the business we worked for and there were rules and whatnot and damn, I think online media is just not my medium. That being said, here I am! Hah

I'm an author and general mess who's hoping to be the miracle man (somebody who makes a living writing silly little stories). I do use a pseudonym but please hear me out when I say I didn't realize how edgy it sounds, it just has some sentimental value to my personal life. I'm so sorry that I sound like I'm in my emo phase HAHA

About me -

He/Him Transguy from the American Midwest (arguably the south, depending on who you talk to, but the older people still say "Sodi-pop" and "ope").

I'm dysautonomic, bendy, permanently sleepy, and a survivor of Crappy Doctors Who Suck At Doctoring.

I like DnD, Pathfinder, Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk, Dragon Age, and other things in that vein.

I do make art of my stories and characters (Tablet is currently not working so I'm in a dry spell).

My writing background is predominantly ancient, dusty RPs from as far back as the foopets days and fanfic writing on Quizilla - I am an old and wizened elder of the net.

My formal education was music performance and behavioral neuroscience, I don't really know how I got where I am.

This is not my first rodeo with tumblr but it is the first time I have anything to SAY instead of just lurking.

In the event of malfunction, you can put me outside for 5 minutes and I'll probably factory reset.

My existence as I know it hinges on a massive number of sticky notes plastered throughout my room.

What I'm lookin' for -

Idk, whatever? I'm down for most things. Did you write it? Cool, let me see. I'm not too bent on genre or anything, just fascinated by the art of storytelling.

A bit tentative with fanfiction but that's just because if it's not a fandom I'm familiar with I am rather clueless about what the hell is going on and if it's a fandom I am familiar with I HUNT DOWN THE DEEP LORE.

I like art a whole lot, including fanart. Also art advice, love seeing things from different perspectives and learning something new.

Mutuals, really, for any reason. Building better connections on here, getting to know people. I am hideously bad at this but I try.

What I write -

Science Fiction with heavy subjects that matter to me - trigger warnings on a story-by-story basis.

High Fantasy (eventually books I think?) characters and their backgrounds for DnD and Pathfinder - I have been tempted to share these to help people get ideas or just for free use?

Things that I delete because I have crippling imposter syndrome and publishing makes me nauseous (doin' it tho).

Stories that I hope will make people feel less alone or that people could relate to, stories that I wish I had when life was worse and I was reaching out for anything I could find to keep me afloat, stories that try to be critical of things that SUCK in a way that's any helpful.

Lots of curse words and cussing (that's just how people talk 'round here), dubious science, things that I hope might make you cry but in a good way though.

Character-Driven stories that revolve more around the development of the person and less around the plot itself if that makes sense.

I've put blurb things below for my primary project/series which features a grumpy, queer, 37-year old chain smoking Frenchman and his misadventures with life and love and unbridled rage. If any of that sounds cool stick around and hang out? (This part is a plug bc I did a thing and I'm proud of it) And if my books sounds interesting the first one is 99 cents on Kindle and you just need a phone and a free app to read it!

THE SECRET OF LIFE (Published) - Sci-Fi/Psychological Thriller, Bi M Lead, Lovers to Enemies, AI but the oldschool cool kind not the real world thing that's stealing our future

Carlisle-Trystan Antoinette is a mercenary on a hard road, navigating life and death itself in an infinite cycle started by powers above his understanding. He has one mission - warn The Dianican Space Station of the coming threat and put a stop to a war that would encapsulate the whole of the Sol System before it can ever begin. Unfortunately for Carlisle, reality is a tenuous thing, made up only by our understanding of it. At least, according to his Psychiatrist, who tells him that there is no war, that he was never a mercenary, and that what Carlisle is experiencing is a severe but manageable psychotic break. Stripped of his combat enhancements, his bio monitor, and everything he's every known, Carlisle has a decision to make. Does he give in to the thoughts and memories, so real that he can almost taste them, or does he live a life of comfort and ease, returning to a husband and daughter that he left behind?

TWs: Domestic and War Violence, suicide, rape, medical trauma, grief, drug use

THE SILENCE OF ANGELS (Due 2024, TSoL 2) - Betrayal and Rage, Learning how to love again slow-burn romantic subplot, Learning how to Dad, A general inability for any one thing to just go right

(Quick Rough Blurb that offers no spoilers for TSoL) Making connections isn't easy for somebody who's accustomed to burning bridges. Isolation has always been Carlisle's mantra for surviving his life. Playing a role comes second nature, pretending to be the man that everyone else wants to see in him. When an old friend is murdered Carlisle finds himself as the primary suspect with all evidence pointing to him so clearly that even he calls to question what he is capable of. Unwilling to believe that he could commit such a heinous crime, Carlisle sets off to find the truth of his friend's death - was Carlisle framed or does he truly have the capacity to bring such harm upon those he loves? Old and new bonds will be tested, faith broken, and the future of everyone called into question as lines are drawn and sides are picked.

TWs: Violence, mentions of SA, graphic character death, more grief, more death

I don't know what else to say... Later!

[roxygen22]

Misophonia

Summary: Timothée learns about your sensitivity to certain sounds. Female reader, boyfriend Timmy.

A/N: pulled from my own experience with self-diagnosed misophonia. Other's experiences may be different.

<><><><><>

You and Timothée were invited out on a double date with his friend, Aiden, and his girlfriend, Krista, at a nice restaurant downtown. You were seated at a circular table between Timothée and Krista. Once initial awkward conversation was out of the way, you and she hit it off once you discovered a mutual love of [insert fandom]. It felt like she was someone you could hang out with one-on-one in the future.

The evening was going smoothly until the salad and bread were brought to the table. It turned out that Krista was terrible at chewing with her mouth closed. You tried to focus on the boys' conversation to tune out the wet sounds of her smacking. You dreaded the main course, knowing you would have to endure more of these maddening noises. You were granted a temporary reprieve to regain composure when she finished her salad, but the entrees were served all too soon.

As Krista dove into her maple-glazed chicken breast, you felt yourself go pale. You stared at your own food and went through the motions of cutting it up and feeding yourself small bites, but you couldn't really even taste or enjoy it due to auditory overload. You felt your palms go sweaty as your breathing became more shallow and rapid. Your knee started bouncing as an outlet for the building panic.

You felt Timothée's hand move to your thigh. "Are you okay?" he whispered in your ear. You would normally enjoy the feeling of his nose grazing your cheek or the heat of his breath on your skin, but the sound of the whisper put you over the edge.

You nodded subtly, though your actions and demeanor demonstrated you were anything but. You dabbed your mouth with the cloth napkin, pushed yourself away from the table, and excused yourself to go to the restroom.

The budding rage gave you tunnel vision as you made your way to the back of the restaurant. Ironically, you didn't hear Timothée get up and follow you. Once you reached the hallway outside of the restrooms, you leaned against the wall with one hand to catch your breath. You whispered your sensory mantra to ground yourself, focusing on what you could see, smell, or feel rather than hear. You startled and spun around when you felt a hand take your free one.

"[Y/N], what is going on?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm ok. I just need a minute. Please, just go back to the table."

Timothée made no move to leave you be. "I saw your jaw clench and nose flare. You're mad about something. What happened?"

You shook your head. Maybe later you could unpack just how sweet it was that he paid such close attention to you. "I'm not mad. Not exactly. I- I have trouble dealing with certain sounds. Like gum smacking, candy wrappers, the sound dry cotton balls make when you pull one apart. But smacking especially. It- it's called misophonia. I get...anxious and angry if it continues and panicky if I can't get away from it. Krista's chewing set it off."

"We can leave if-"

"No, no. It's ok. I'll be ok. I'll come back in just a minute." You put a hand to your forehead. "I'm sorry. Please go back and just tell them I needed to visit the restroom. Say the wine went to my head or something." You scoffed. "I'm usually better at dealing with this."

Timothée laid a hand on your shoulder. The weight of it was calming. "We all have...stuff, [Y/N]. I didn't much care for seeing half-masticated food rolling around in her mouth, either."

You giggled quietly, then cast your eyes to the floor.

"Why haven't you talked to me about this before?" he asked solemnly.

You raised your chin to look up at him. He looked sincere, not at all put off by what you had just admitted. "It's embarrassing. It's not exactly something easy to bring up in casual conversation," you replied. "And besides, when it's not triggered, I don't actively think about it. Like I said, I can usually work through it, especially if the exposure is limited."

"But you are miserable until it passes."

You simply nodded in response.

"Oh, [Y/N]," he whispered as he brought his hand to your cheek. "Thank you for telling me. You don't have to deal with this alone. Now I can be more mindful about your known triggers and help run interference before you get to this point." He paused briefly. "Though I don't know how to help once we get back to the table."

"I'll be ok. She should be done soon and dessert is a smaller course. She's otherwise a lovely girl, Timothée. Maybe we could find other...non-dining...things to do with them in the future."

He smiled and nodded. "Sure. I'll head back now that I know you're alright. Join us when you are able." He kissed your forehead and turned to leave.

"Timothée," you called out. He turned at the sound of his name. "Thank you for not making me feel...weird about it."

"Oh, you are weird, [Y/N]" he replied and flashed a grin, which you returned. "But not for that. And I love you for it. You're my weirdo."

You blushed as he turned away once again. You loved that man to the moon and back.

<><><><><>

A couple of days later, Timothée came by your apartment to hang out and watch a movie. He handed you a small box as he entered before plopping down on the couch. You sat down next to him and started to open it.

"I, uh, did some research on misophonia." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I read that these may help," he said as you pulled out a set of [insert favorite color] earbuds from the box. "They allow conversational tones through while - hopefully - muffling other unwanted noises."

You felt tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you looked over at him. "Thank you. And they are even my favorite color." He blushed as you kissed him on the cheek.

"Maybe you could try them out during the movie?" he offered. You nodded and set to securing them in your ears while he pulled up the film.

Timothée's purchase was spot on. You were able to hear the movie audio clearly and tune out his distracting yet endearing habit of shuffling through the popcorn bowl to find the pieces with the most butter.

When the credits rolled, he looked over at you inquisitively. "Well?"

"They worked! Thank you."

"Anything for my girl. I couldn't bear to think of all the times you were likely miserable while I was oblivious. And how often I may have unknowingly contributed."

"It's okay, Timmy. I can't expect everyone to tiptoe around me, nor do I want to make people feel self-conscious."

"Have I ever triggered it?"

You just stared at him, unsure of how to proceed.

"The answer is yes if you couldn't quickly say no. Just tell me," he prodded.

You gestured to the popcorn bowl. "This is a good example. The shuffling of popcorn when people grab a handful. It's usually not continuous enough to induce anger. Just annoyance and distraction."

Timothée looked horrified. "Oh...oh, [Y/N], I'm so sorry."

"See, this is why I don't talk about it. There is no use in shaming people for perfectly normal sounds. But the earbuds worked. I hardly noticed when you were digging through the bowl."

"Digging?" He raised an eyebrow in response.

You smiled widely. "You....have a habit of searching for buried treasure rather than taking some off the top."

Timothée blushed. "I didn't even realize. I guess that's weird, huh?"

"That's ok," you said soothingly as you kissed the tip of his nose. "You're my weirdo."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady

[muzzleoleum]

this is an unfriendly reminder that if you voted for trump this is not a safe space for you, i'm not sorry. My rights as a queer and visibly disabled person are on the fucking line right now. I don't care what reasoning you have for voting for a bigoted racist, transphobic, ableist, rapist piece of shit.

To everyone else, we have to hold each other close, it is a genuinely terrifying and bleak time right now, but regardless of who won we have to put in the work, organize, talk to your neighbors, provide mutual aid, we have to do the hard fucking work regardless even if we have to grieve. Kamala would've been a small comfort for a huge price paid in Gaza, either way we would be contributing to the genocides in many places in the world, we cannot rest, we have to fight back. Our lives are going to be made up as resistance and they shouldn't have to be, but they will be, and at least for me it's death before detransition, I will never back down from the life i have fought so hard to live.

If any of you personally need any kind of harm reduction tips, or anything for wherever you live please let me know, i will give any of you my discord and we can call if you need help, please please reach out to me personally if you need it, the cost and pain of losing anyone else is far greater than listening, there is no comparison. Whatever you are going through is not scary to me and not frightening, we are in this together. I love you all, and i am here for you all unequivocally. We will live, it will be hard, but we will live and make lives for ourselves, but we HAVE to live if anything else.

Organize, talk to your neighbors, provide support and mutual aid, resist.

[call-sign-shark]

Following the heart-wrenching posts of @red-riding-wood, @kittenonpluto and @aurorag98 I feel like I have to write this. By no means I have experienced traumatizing interactions with @mrkdvidal1989 aka Killian Vidal but this whole situation and what he did to girls here make me enraged.

First of all, I want to reassure all the beloved mutuals who have been reaching out to me or who have been worried about my well-being because they saw me interacting a few times with Killian. I am perfectly fine and I'm not much here this week because I have been working a lot.

As for my relationship with Killian... Well, we were barely talking to each other actually. I know I am bad at replying to my DMs but this is not the reason why I ghosted him -- I purposefully did so because, like many of you, the guy gave me the biggest red flags. We talked a few times, and he called me hot when he saw the gym pics/selfies I posted. He quickly suggested we meet together to go to the gym and watch horror movies during my stay in the UK and to this I replied positively while knowing I would never ever do so. Right from the start I suspected him to be a liar and I felt he had built up everything about his life. Also, I come from a military family with many relatives working in special units of the French Navy, and let me tell you something: I screamed at the thought of a former soldier (from the SAS!! lmao) spending all of his time writing reader-insert fanfic for a female audience and discussing with Cillian fangirls. I don't say it's impossible, but it's VERY unlikely.

To me, Killian was just an attention-seeking catfish I'd never meet and who I found both boring and childish. In my opinion, I thought he just wanted to have a small court around him to strut around, nothing more. I tried to search for info about him to warn people, I mean I even doubted he was a man... However, I found nothing plus he seemed to be IRL friends with a few mutuals here who actually chatted with him via phone so I didn't want to take the risk of spreading hate about someone just because of a gut feeling. Never in a million years, I would have imagined he was toying with girls from the Peaky Blinders community, collecting nudes, gaslighting/harassing them, breaking them into pieces, promising marriage, and going as far as to promise a life-saving medical treatment to a dear friend of mine. I am devastated by what I have read this morning, and "devasted" is not even powerful enough. Learning from Red that he talked about fucking me when we meet while we never talk about sex, never flirted or anything (we just small-talked once in a while lmao) might be a bit creepy but it's nothing compared to what he has done to girls here.

I am deeply sorry to all the people who have been hurt by his horrible actions and are now facing long-term consequences because of him, some of them being my close mutuals. I send positive vibes, love, and healing to every one of you who had to deal with this psycho. I know a lot of people have already said that but my DMs are opened if you need a safe place. The Peaky Blinders / Cillian Murphy community is a nice place, maybe the most welcoming place I've ever seen on the Internet but we should all keep in mind that it is not safe from ill-intentioned users and predators. Please stay safe and, for the victims, don't blame yourself. You haven't been naive nor stupid or anything. The only one to blame is the person behind Killian Vidal's persona, and for the evil you've done, I hope you'll get fucked with a chainsaw. Or just fucking rot in hell.

Shark.

[lulu-tutu]

Oopsie 💕 Kai (Ninjago)

A/N: first actual post in a while and it’s something I made like,, a year or so ago lol Ninjago has infected my brain again so expect more of these for the next few months, and yes, I’ve seen all the requests in my inbox and I promise you all, I will get to them! It just takes time to get motivated but I swear I’ll get them all out eventually. For now, enjoy this little read (and if you have more Ninjago requests - please send them I beg 🙏)

Desperate need for Ninjago mutuals 😭 Dragons Rising has me hooked all over again.

Pairing(s): Kai x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): mild language, fluff overdose, pretty tame and somewhat short and sweet.

Word Count: 868

🔥🔥🔥 🐉🐉🐉🔥🔥🔥🐉🐉🐉

"Are you absolutely sure it's on?"

It was a sunny Sunday, and thankfully the theives in Ninjago City seem to be non-existent, giving the Ninja a day to finally kick back and relax with their loved ones.

A few moments ago, you had your little girl in your arms, swaying her side to side as you tickled her stomach. As her laughter slowed down, she started to gurgle and you were shocked at the fact that she was trying to speak.

Recently she had turned the age of two, which excited both her parents. Soon, she would be saying her first words, which she was close to.

You had the magnificent idea of making your daughters first words her favourite animal, frog. Wanting that moment to be special and remembered, you got your husband, Kai to film the event.

"Yes, (Y/n)! It's rolling! See! The red light is on!" Kai leans away from the camera slightly to point at the glowing red light.

"Okay, good. We don't want to miss a single detail." Biting your lip in excitement, you motioned to the lounge area. "She's playing right now, come on."

As you lead Kai to the lounge, you could finally see your daughter on camera. In one hand was a pink tea cup and in the other was a Kermit toy.

"Amaya, darling." You coo and kneel down in front of the young girl. Amaya glances up from her tea party, her eyes widening now that you were here in front of her.

Amaya was a gorgous girl and Kai always said that she was going to break every guys heart when she grows up. While that was his opinion, he was most likely right, if she was anything like her father. She had her fathers hair, attitude and his freckles from when he was a child. You hoped that the freckles would be permanent, unlike how Kai only had his as a kid.

She also had your eyes, nose and curiosity. She was almost always up to mischief, which sometimes gave you and Kai heart attacks.

"Sweetheart," You start and grab her chubby hands as she reaches out for you, "Mama heard that you could almost talk!"

Amaya lets out a giggle and nods her head, most likely not even knowing exactly what you said.

"Can you try again? How about you try saying 'frog'. Can you say that?" You made sure to say each word slowly, wanting Amaya to understand what you needed her to say.

"F-F..." The small girls fumbles with the first letter, her eyes downcast as she concentrates.

While you stared at your girl in adoration, Kai made sure to zoom in to your loving gaze then over to Amaya, watching as she touched her own lips. He had to choke down a chuckle.

"That's it! F-r-o-g." You tried to help her by saying each letter slowly and a bit slurred. Amaya stared at you for a moment, her eyes trained on your lips as you say each letter.

You watch as she gasps, almost like she had had the greatest idea in the entire world. She bounced on her feet a little, her eyes wide as she opened her mouth, "F-fuck!"

"Maya!" You shriek as a hand comes up to clasp your agape mouth, your face having shock and horror all over it.

While you stared mortified at your daughter, Kai was laughing himself dead on the other side of the camera, a free hand on his stomach as he laughs.

"W-Who taught you that!?" You look down to your daughter who was laughing as well at her father.

While little giggles leave her lips, she points a finger to her father. "Fuck!" She laughs out and ends up falling down on her rear end.

With wide eyes and a scowl, your head turns slowly towards your husband, "Kai Smith! Look at what you did to our daughter! Her first words! This is-"

"Hilarious!" Kai snorts out and with shaky hands, he zooms the camera in to capture the look of horror and pure rage on your face.

"You're so dead!" You yell out before standing up from your crouching posistion and sprinting at the laughing man.

Kai immediately halts his laughing, "Oh crap." He curses before sprinting off and away from the hands of his blood thirsty wife, the camera recording every bit of the situation.

While the two lovebirds fought in the kitchen, Amaya went back to playing with her frog. She picked him up and hugged him close to her chest, "Kermy." She mumbles with a giggle.

[thebestieyoureinlovewith]

Hate anons across the world here's one thing I want you to know.

The people you target, are just that, people. We have feelings, we have insecurities, we have brain demons that tell us no one likes us, that make us feel small and powerless.

You can join the brain demon if you wish, but I hope you never forget the guilt that you feel knowing you could make someone feel like nothing. How dare you, how dare you think that it could ever be okay to directly send hate to someone? Honestly, if I do something that upsets you, either block me, or let me know what it is so we can talk through it. If you don't like me, leave. If you don't like my mutuals, leave.

I quite frankly will stop caring what is happening in your life the second you start hiding behind a screen and an anon icon, and sending hate.

If you need help, reach out, and once again, if you don't like me, just leave.

PLEASE REBLOG CAUSE I NEED ALL WHO FACE HATE TO KNOW THAT THEY HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG

[beating-a-dead-plot]

Please Read If You Live In The USA

Hi! My name isn't actually Petunia, it's just a nickname, and I used it so I could maintain some level of anonymity on here and protect myself from shame and awkwardness. That is no longer an option to me.

I live in New York state, not the big city, a different region. If you are female, non-binary, or transgender and over the age of 18, living in a state that isn't so fun as mine, maybe you could come visit me? Maybe you finally decided that your random internet bestie should be your real life bestie and you just have to meet each other! After all, good friends are so hard to find these days! I live with family currently, so you would have to find a place to stay for your visit, but I would just love to finally get to meet you!

I mean, we could check out Niagara Falls, it's basically in my backyard, or we could take a little food tour of Western New York! If money is going to be tight, maybe it'll be on me if I'm in a decent spot with money, but if we're just two broke idiots, well, public parks are always a great option to hang out in, or we could hole up in your staying place and have some fun talking about all our favorite fandoms and characters! Also, we could take a little day trip to Canada, border's right there and and as long as you've got your documents and behave going through customs, it's fun! The butterfly conservatory is amazing, I bet you'd really love it! Think about how fun it could be to just have a little get-away with your internet bestie?

I don't care about my own embarrassment anymore, I will take being embarrassed for being a freak over not being at least offering to help people who need it right now. I'm nobody, I have like four mutuals and only one talks to me consistently (Which is my fault, NOT theirs, not playing the blame game here, not even close), but if someone needs a justifiable excuse to hang out in NY for a bit, send me a private message.

I don't care if we're mutuals or not, I don't care if you're even in the Star Wars fandom, I'll read up on something if you need me to. I can help with finding activities and resources in my area, I will gladly scope out the best hotels/motels/rentals in my area if you need me to.

Even if no one sees this post or takes me up on this, I just want to know, I tried. I tried to do something to keep people from being hurt when they shouldn't have to be. I'm currently a part-time college student and looking into getting applications in for jobs, but if you need help, if you need someone to be on your side when your own family isn't, come to me.

At this point, if you voted for the person hurting us? Still message me if you need help. I loathe your choice but I am not going to let you be hurt or worse because of it. Don't get me wrong, I am furious with those who voted him in, but if I let you suffer because of him, I would be no better than the hateful bigots on the other side from me.

And if immigration is what your goal is, I will gladly try to help you with Canadian immigration or coming to NY to explore your options. I will not help you cross with the intent to do so illegally, but a day-trip to check out Ontario? I will do it. I will not help with anything outright illegal, but if you need help and are willing to be close enough to legal not to get me arrested, I'm here.

There's this thing I saw people saying on social media "I could hate her more than anything in the world, and I still wouldn't leave her alone with that weird man at the party." You are now all in that first category, I don't care if you're a Trekie (I had to add humor, I'm losing it), you will never catch me leaving you alone at this party unless I am truly unable to, which would be if I'm arrested and/or dead.

Reach out if you need someone, there's none of you who should be left to the wolves now. <3

I am AFAB, cis-gender as far as everyone knows, I will now be referring to myself as straight but I used to go by bisexual as a label, and 23 years old. For more details, DM me and we can see what we need to do.

[callsigns-haze]

Another announcement yet again

Two this week huh?! Probs not the best thing ever but yet here we are.

Tbh I don't think I have left too many things lying out unfinished I might delete one of my series and you know I was only one part in and not much attention either so no big deal.

I did post like a little peak of one but it's fine. That can wait or just never happen.

I have exams coming up soon and won't have any time to post anything but in fairness I feel like I'll be around here till the end of this month then I'll probably pull what I did from April to June but this time I'll probably be gone most of the time for possible 6 months maybe?!

I'll still be posting some fics if I have time. I'm about to close my requests because I won't have time. My exams are in January and then again in June and these go on my cert so this matters a lot to me.

Tbh some of my things don't even get acknowledged around here anymore so let me be honest this will be a small change to your blogging life.

I go back to sports in two weeks so then I'll be busy 24/7 and studying matters to me this year, a lot.

I've also been feeling really sick recently so this is not making anything better. I'm out of my hand brace and finger splints but still don't feel all nice and fuzzy.

Here's the real shit.

I have really bad anxiety. Like absolutely shit.

Over the period of my whole life I have ended up in hospital due to severe panic attacks and other issues.

It sucks how these things come back huh?

I was talking today with one of my friends Maria that last year was the worst year for me with my attacks but this year they seemed to calm down. In the month of September I would say I only had like 3.

I spoke about this to my doctor and she said maybe it's because I can do sports so I'm calm or maybe I found a better routine. Then why do I feel so shit on my day off?

I just had a conversation with a mutual and currently I'm legit on the edge like all this trauma and shit just flooded back and is sitting on my chest and yet I can't do shit about it.

Last year on the third of October someone passed away that was somewhat involved with me but that's nothing relevant to me or what I feel.

People on this very app ruined my experience at the end of last year and I was close to another attempt.

But right now out of September I only had 3 panic attacks that month I had 4 today and it's the first of fucking October.

Am I sobbing currently yes. I can't control it anymore. I don't want to have to keep on writing more as right now it doesn't please me.

My writing isn't so great in the first place. My first language was polish and I only started to get English properly by 8 so I see where my fics do not have the best range.

I really wanted to reach 1k followers by the end of this year but there's nothing to go off on anymore.

I will be online for a bit and I will be DM people I like to text but mostly don't be surprised if I don't answer too much. I'm not in a good space at all.

I'll probably be doing a bunch of rants on my blog and if you don't want to see it just don't read or just ignore.

I need the trauma to fucking go away but I'm shit at talking.