#so i think it should be manageable in the time

[vampiricvenus]

My friend Nader is a 17 years old Palestinian boy who has been campaigning tirelessly for months now in order to evacuate his whole family from Gaza.

When I first started chatting with him, his campaign, which has a total goal of €50,000, was at a bit above €5,000 at the time, about a month ago.

Thanks primarily to this sweet boy's daily efforts and the help he's received from some Tumblr users, we've managed to get his fundraiser to 62% of its total goal!!!!

With that in mind, if everyone who's donated a relatively small amount would donate a similar amount again as I did, we could SO easily take him very near his goal!!

His campaign is verified. It's the 4th campaign in this spreadsheet.

If we reach this €50,000 goal, we'd be saving not just Nad, but several young children, his father Ahmed who's a cancer patient, and many others. Reminder too that an uncle of his was martyred very recently. Anything can happen at any moment, and he gets very disheartened whenever donations decrease. We need to get them all out of Gaza as soon as possible.

His little niece is suffering from malnutrition, and every day when Nad and I resume chatting again he tells me how exhausted he is. I'm very worried for him and his family, as there's people dying of starvation all around him and him and his family aren't doing well. His family has already been displaced NINE times!!

Let's give Nad a chance to follow his dreams of going to university. Let's give his very small siblings a chance to know of a life free of bombings and shootings. Let's give his father the opportunity to deal with his cancer with dignity and an actual fighting chance.

€30,784/€50,000

Tagging for reach:

@annevbonny @angelsaxis @anneemay @arabianbutch @babyfairy @bigprettygothgf @closet-keys @curseworm

@enbnonsense @fuckyeahmarxismleninism @filmnoirsbian @fireandfennel @fufudeplatano @frankeneglected

@guavabat @handweavers @jvzebel-x @journeysendinlovers @knifefightscene @kamalaskadoosh @lesbeet @lesbiantaurus

@lesbianslasherfilm @lesbianalism @medusadyke @narashite @nerdvi @nonbinarymerbabe @nurlet

@ororomunroedontpullout @prisonhannibal @palistani @palipunk @rosyish @robotpussy @sawasawako @serpari

@sirmonster @sibelin @socalgal @sunsstorms @thatdiabolicalfeminist @undeadbutch @uptownthots

@vamprisms @vympr @vicholas @womenintheirwebs @nabulsi @el-shab-hussein

[sttoru]

⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. a relaxing day at the beach w/ toji ‘n little megumi, accompanied by their usual bickering and precious moments

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. honestly just the beach episode toji deserves w his family t_t not proof read!

the beach is a beautiful place to rest after a tough week. toji lays on the towel besides yours, bulky arms resting behind his head as he enjoyed the gentle breeze, the smell of the sea mixed with his wife’s perfume.

the peace is quickly disturbed when he feels a small fist claw at his mouth.

“‘gumi, don’t feed papa sand,” your muffled laughter echoes through the busy beach. you watch your husband attempt to fight off megumi’s tiny hands as they pry his lips apart.

toji grunts and moves his head multiple times, but the toddler is determined to get what he wants. “brat—” the dark-haired man scoffs while his hands wrap around megumi’s torso, lifting the little boy in the air as his final resort, “what’s this all ‘bout? wanna kill y’r daddy or sum?”

your son pouts and furrows his brows. “no, i made papa food. burger,” he defends himself and kicks his legs while being held up at arms length. megumi’s tiny fist full of sand manages to reach his father’s lips again, “now papa eat!”

toji lifts megumi up higher, as far away from his face as possible. he takes a second before realising that he indeed had made a request for a burger just moments ago, when his son asked him what he should make out of the sand.

toji totally forgot to play along with megumi’s pretend restaurant game, thinking the boy would halfway forget about it anyway. children’s attention spans are short after all.

seems like his kid is an exception.

“i ain’t eatin’ shit, boy,” toji grunts and turns megumi away, putting the boy back down in the sand between the two beach towels. you’re about to reprimand your husband for his behaviour before your child interrupts.

“this not poo poo!” megumi jabs a finger at his father’s chest, his voice a bit louder. he’s taken great offence to the comment about his imaginary burger, which was now but a cluster of sand particles.

toji snorts and gently flicks megumi’s hand away, “yeah, it is. bet it tastes like ‘poo poo’ too.”

“no! not poo poo!” megumi’s voice rings out before a frustrated whine leaves his lips. his little hands land on toji’s abs, physically punishing him for saying such mean stuff about his hard handiwork.

your husband sticks his tongue out childishly at his sulking son. “‘yes! yes ‘tis poo poo!’ keheh,” toji mocks megumi’s high voice, snorting as he laughs about his own joke afterwards.

the father-son duo bicker for a few more seconds before you sigh and speak up. “can you two just get along for once now? we’re in public, so behave,” you scold them as their voices seemed to get louder. you then glare at your immature husband. he could be such a man-child when it came to arguing with his son, “and you— you’re an adult, so act like one.”

the two of them instantly shut up and their heads turn towards you, their hands that were wrestling with each other also stopping mid-air. megumi pouts and stops attacking his father with his tiny fists. the little boy knows better than to not listen to his mother.

in turn, toji huffs and grumbles something under his breath before grabbing his son to make it up to him.

neither does the grown man dare to defy his wife’s demands.

“yeah, yeah. c’mere, son,” toji responds and places the toddler on his chest, letting the kid rest against him. megumi surprisingly doesn’t pull away and instead curls up in toji’s warm embrace. as much as the two love to (playfully) fight, they also get along extremely well.

you smile and relax back on the palms of your hands. “much better,” you hum in content. your heart swells with affection for your two favorite people on earth. megumi is a carbon copy of his father and it’s the cutest little thing ever.

they both have that subtle pout on their lips as they accommodate to being close and cozy with each other again.

toji runs his callused fingers through megumi’s hair, sighing as he closes his eyes. he doesn’t admit it out loud, but he cares for his kid. if he had to make a choice between either saving his own life or megumi’s, toji’d instantly draw his last breath.

“he’s still a brat,” your husband grumbles to you, sharp eyes watching the way you coddle and coo over the toddler. megumi’s chubby cheek is smushed against toji’s chest and it was an adorable sight. you giggle and capture it on your phone.

toji scoffs, but can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of his scarred lips. he gently rubs the child’s cheek with his knuckles before continuing, “but he’s my brat. ain’t that right, boy?”

megumi lets out a small, soft grunt at his father’s words. the kid is completely silent, content with the way things had played out. perhaps this is what he secretly searched for as well— to receive toji’s attention and a glimpse of his affection.

“aww, how cute!” your smile is beaming as you snap another picture of your family. toji’s soft look is perfectly captured on your phone, with him gently touching megumi’s chubby cheek as the boy laid on his bare chest. pure domestic bliss.

you sigh and look away for one second to change the lockscreen on your phone. humming, you go to your settings and instantly put the picture of your husband and son as your wallpaper on nearly everything.

you tilt your head back only to find toji grinning from ear to ear now, going from gently rubbing megumi’s cheek to full out squishing them between both his hands, amused at the way the fat moves. “kehehe, look at ‘em,” he chuckles.

the little toddler eventually gets fed up with it after squirming and grunting. megumi brings his little fist up—the same one that still had some sand stored from before—and lets the content fly all over toji’s face.

megumi giggles and scrambles off toji’s lap with a victorious grin. he points at his father who’s struggling with getting the sand off his face, the man sputtering and grumbling. he sticks his tongue out, “tha’s papa’s burger.”

you watch as your son waddles over to you and hides into your arms, muffled laughter echoing in your ears. seems like megumi won the battle in the end; successfully holding onto the sand he was planning to feed his dad one way or another.

toji spits out a bit of sand that flew into his mouth from the kid’s surprise attack, “you little shit—”

well, there goes the peace again. you shake your head, but let the two play and fight it out on their own.

. . . just another day in the fushiguro family.

[giannaln4]

For you? Anything.

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Even during the worst week of you life, and no matter how tired he is, Lando would do anything to make you feel better.  (2.6k words)

warnings: fluff, established relationship, language.

a/n: And we are back to our regular schedule! Kinktober is officially over (kinda, more context here) so it's time to post regular fics. So, I wrote this sometime last week before the shit show of yesterday's race so that's why there are no mentions of it, but I do have some planned about that so we'll see when I can work on them. Anyway, this is for me and all the girlies who have been feeling stressed about work, let me know what you think!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

What a week it has been for you. You had done nothing but work on a stupid project your boss put you in charge of. It was very short notice, and the due date was creeping up on you faster than you would’ve liked. 

The good thing is Lando had been away for weeks due to his job; not that you didn’t want to see him or that he was a distraction, nothing like that, but you always preferred to be with him instead of working, which isn’t something you would be able to do this time due to the amount of things you had to go over, but with the house all to yourself, you had the chance to get tons of work done.

It was finally the day of the presentation; you were supposed to pitch the finished project to management and honestly, you weren’t 100% confident in the job you had done. Usually, you were never too harsh on yourself, but with so little time to work on it, you knew there were some parts here and there that could’ve used a little more of your attention, but it was either use what you already have or show up with an unfinished project, so that would have to do. It wasn’t terrible; you were sure of that, but these people always found something to complain about.

You were there for only a few minutes before you were dismissed. What a fucking joke, you thought.

You didn’t even get half the presentation done, and the old dudes sitting across from you were already attacking you with questions, questions that didn’t even make sense or barely fit the theme of what you were trying to talk about. 

Your boss was the one to send you out, saying something like “You have another week; we hope you’ll be more prepared next time,” before standing up and leaving the cold conference room, followed by the rest of the men that were surrounding him.

Only minutes after going back to your office you saw him come in, giving you notes on the things he thought you should work on. As the polite girl that you are, you just nodded and wrote down whatever he was saying, apologising for not turning it up on time, but as soon as he left, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face, ruining your make-up in the process. You still had half of your day ahead of you, so you calmed down, washed your face, and went back to work like nothing happened.

At the end of the day, however, that’s a different story. You went back home completely devastated. All those sleepless nights you spent with your nose buried in your laptop felt like a total waste. 

As you drove back home, you tried your best to hold the tears, but it was getting harder by the second, especially with each step you took down the hall that led to the door of your apartment, and when you made it there, you started crying as soon as you closed the door behind you.

You instantly got rid of your uncomfortable clothes and got into one of Lando’s shirts, curling up in your bed and letting all that consuming and irrational feeling of failure sink in. You knew you weren’t a failure; you were well aware of your worth, but you couldn’t help but feel like that after miserably failing the presentation you worked so hard on.

Suddenly, the front door opening pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out a loud sigh as you left the bed. You knew it was Lando coming back from his last race, and any other day you would’ve been happy to see him, running to the door to greet him with a hug like he deserved, but right now, you didn't want him to have to see you in that pathetic state.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment, sighing again when you realised how obvious it was that you had been crying, so you’d just have to avoid eye contact.

“Hi baby,” Lando greeted you with his usual pretty smile as he entered your room.

"Hey,” you replied, immediately turning around and walking towards your desk, sitting facing away from Lando as you opened your laptop.

“Did you sleep okay last night? How did your presentation go?” He walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, kissing your temple.

“It was okay.” He stopped when he noticed your heavy mood. 

"You alright, love? You seem down." His brows were slightly furrowed as he tried to make eye contact.

​​"Yeah, fine. I think I’m just gonna work on it a little more; there were some things missing that I need to include," you replied, clearly lacking energy.

“Hey now, let’s not do that." Lando turned the chair over to make you face him. He looked down and noticed your glossy eyes, a worried feeling growing inside him. “Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”

You just shook her head briefly, a lip-tight smile covering your face. “Everything’s fine.”

“Y/N…” The slip of your name past his lips made you want to cry again. Of course you wanted to be comforted by your boyfriend, but you didn’t like the thought of him having to pick up the pieces anytime you messed up. As a tear rolled down your face, you realised that you didn't have the energy or even the desire to push him away “Oh baby, come here.”

Lando took your hand as he sat on the floor next to you, pulling you onto his lap. Your face was now buried in his black hoodie, the tears wetting it instantly as he brushed a hand softly up and down your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you." He would understand if you didn’t want to talk about it but would still like to know what was happening. If there was anything he could do to help, he would gladly do it. “Do you wanna talk?”

“I just-” A sob cut you off, “I- I couldn’t do it, even after everything I did, it wasn’t enough.”

“Is this about your presentation?” He asked, his voice softer than ever, and you simply nodded. “It’s alright-”

“No, Lando, it’s not alright. I worked hard to get it together, to get it ready for days and nights and I still failed, I’m so stupid-”

“Hey, baby, look at me," he interrupted you, pulling back a bit and gently lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “You know that’s not true; you’re so smart, and I've always admired your beautiful mind. You gave it your best, like you said, you worked really hard, and even if you didn’t get the reaction you deserved, you know I’m right here.” You simply nodded at his words as the back of your hand wiped some of the tears. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?”

"Because I don't want you to be disappointed in me like I am right now." You looked down to your lap as more tears fell from your tired eyes.

“You should know that I could never be disappointed in you, Y/N. You are so intelligent and kind; I’ve never met anyone with such a beautiful soul, so I don't ever want you to feel down about yourself because you are perfect." You felt both of Lando’s large hands caress either side of your face, bringing it up so he could look into your eyes again as he swiped at the tears that had managed to escape from your eyes.

The slight smile that had formed on your tear-stained face told Lando that his words meant something to you, and they did. “You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“No, I’m your boyfriend for all those reasons." You giggled slightly. “And I’m sure that no one would disagree with me.”

“My boss would.”

“What does he know?” That made you laugh again, making Lando smile, a smile so sincere that told you he believed everything he just said.

"Thank you, baby, even though you’re being a little biased." You sniffled as you gently stroked the hand that was still on your cheek, keeping your eyes locked with his “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead. You took a deep breath, feeling a lot calmer than you did five minutes ago as you looked at your laptop briefly. 

“I should probably get back to work, though; I have to basically remake the whole thing and meet with them again next week.”

“What? Right now?”

“Yes, right now. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to bed? You look pretty tired. We can cuddle, I know we both need it.”

“I would love to,” your gaze fell on your bed momentarily; it looked so comfortable, and it was literally calling your name, “but I really need to get this done, and I have to do it right this time. I don’t wanna be embarrassed again in front of a bunch of old dudes.”

You stood up from his lap and sat back on your desk, focusing on the screen in front of you as you began to analyse what you should take out and what you needed to add. 

Lando just sighed. He knew there was no way he would get you to stop working if you already set your mind to it, but honestly, he thought he would get to spend every second with you once he got back home, so needless to say, he was a little disappointed that wasn’t the case.

He got it though; your job was important for you, and you would never settle for anything unless it was perfect. What made his blood boil was the fact that your boss had the nerve to make you feel like you weren't worth it. 

“Did you eat something already?” He asked you, getting up from the floor and wrapping his arms around you once again.

“Uh- I’m not really hungry.”

“Why don’t I cook something for us? What do you say?”

“It’s okay, baby, you should go to bed.” You tilted your head to look at him and give him a quick kiss. “I know you are tired, the triple header couldn’t have been easy.”

You started collecting your things so you could take over a different part of the apartment. He had been travelling for weeks; it wouldn’t be fair to keep him up just because you needed to get work done.

“Where are you going?”

“To your office, if that’s okay. I really don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not-”

“Lan, I’ll be okay, I promise. Just go to bed, don’t worry about me.” Taking a few steps closer to him, you gave him a loving hug, “I love you.”

You left the room, holding everything in your hands as Lando just stood in the same spot. There was no way he would go to bed without you, not when you were feeling so down and it was clear you just needed to take a break.

Taking a deep breath, he started to make a plan in his head. He took the quickest shower of his life and got into something comfy, praying there was food, or more specifically, ingredients to cook you something that he wouldn’t mess up and that you would enjoy.

Everything seemed to be on his side when he found everything he needed to make some Alfredo. Everything was pretty much premade, so he knew he wouldn’t ruin it. He happily got to work, setting up a nice dinner as he hummed one of the songs that had been stuck in his head for who knows how long. 

In the office, you were nearly breaking your head as you read the information you had over and over again. You kind of knew what it needed to be since your boss gave you a few specific notes, but then again, you weren’t feeling completely confident in your own ideas. 

You didn’t realise you had been locked away for over an hour, your eyes getting insanely tired as you typed away. A break was needed and well deserved, and you were aware of this, but somehow it didn’t feel like you were making any progress, even though you had been working non-stop and you had already readjusted about half of the project.

A loud sigh escaped your lips as you abruptly closed your laptop, your face falling to your hands as your eyes felt wet yet again. That was it; there was no way you could keep going. You needed to grab a quick snack and head straight to bed. You did have an early morning the next day after all. 

Just as you were gathering all your strength to get up, you heard the door open, making you jump a bit.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” You laughed as your hand fell on your heart.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggled, walking towards you.

“What are you doing still awake? I thought you went to bed.” 

“I couldn’t sleep without you. Are you almost done here?” He looked at your closed laptop, celebrating internally as he assumed you were done working for the night. 

“Yeah, I guess. My brain stopped working, so I thought my future self can worry about the rest tomorrow.”

“Good. Come here.” He extended his hand out to you, which you happily took. “Please stop overworking yourself, you know this isn’t healthy.”

“I know,” you let out a sigh as you accepted his embrace. “I’m seriously thinking about quitting. Who knows, maybe I’ll find something that doesn’t make me feel this stressed all the time.”

His hand was caressing your back softly as he pulled away to look down at you. ���You know you can, right? And I really think you should. I make enough to support the both of us and even a family in the future... Baby, you don’t have to keep working there if you don’t want to.”

His words made a smile appear on your face. Not because he was offering to basically support you for the rest of your life, but because he brought having a family with you. “You know I’d never let you do that-”

“But if you do want to quit and just take a break, you can do that too,” he interrupted you. You nodded, seriously considering it, but that was something you would have to think about and have a serious conversation in the future if you ever did decide to do it.

“We’ll see. Right now, I just need something to eat and some sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Speaking about dinner, I made something for you.”

He took your hand and guided you to the dining room, a big smile on his face as he proudly showed off the beautiful set-up and the (hopefully) delicious dinner he managed to cook. He looked back at you expectantly, but his happiness quickly turned into a worried look when he noticed tears falling from your eyes again. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, a hand softly falling on your cheek as he leaned down. 

You were out of words; you truly didn’t know what to say. This is just what you needed, and the fact that he went out of his way to do it for you meant a lot more than he could ever imagine.

“I- Lando, this is-” you cut yourself off when you couldn’t find the right thing to say, so you just jumped in his arms and gave him the tightest hug ever. “Thank you for everything. And I mean everything.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugging you back as he buried his head on the crook of your neck. “For you, my love, I’d do anything.”

[csharp-official]

C standard library is abysmal and every part of it was misdesigned, I can pick a random part of it and see it all fall apart.

The way locales are done means you can't reliably print out formatted numbers in a locale-indepenent fashion as there's no locale-accepting version of say, printf.

string.h is an embarrassment. strncpy is not a string function as its post-condition does not create a string at its destination in every case. It is also not a "safe version of strcpy" either, wrongly misleading people into thinking it is. The intended use of strcat results in O(n^2) performance when concatenating many strings. While the null-terminated string representation has problems on its own, string.h compounds them significantly.

Null-terminated strings and string.h are a symptom of a larger problem of C that is an utter lack of sensible buffer management, like some form of a slice type, contained within a single variable. But also you can't write one because the type system does not have any form of expressing a "generic type" like the built-in array types, or pointer types. Every such type has to be provided by the base language and this results in a situation where complex numbers, atomics and others are introduced as a language feature (!).

The type system is a joke and will let you assign integers to pointer variables, and this will only result in a compiler warning.

Compiler warnings are something you _have_ to enable in order to have any form of reasonable software development experience, but this is once again a something you have to remember while writing your Makefiles. -Wall does not enable "all warnings" because it broke somebody important's code when compiled together with "-Werror" and so "all warnings" in this context means "enable all warnings the compiler had in like nineteen-ninety-something". Newbies will not know to do enable warnings, as most tutorials are written by people who have no clue themselves. The solution to this problem would be introducing a concept "so okay, compiler, give me a reasonable set of warning flags as you believe is appropriate for 2024" and later on when you're feeling up to grabbing more diagnostics to warn about, you bump the warning wave into a next number, but such thing is yet to be introduced.

The way C99 variable length arrays interact with sizeof operator makes me cringe (if any part of the expression touches a VLA, sizeof becomes a runtime operation instead of compile time one), to the point I am glad that C11 no longer makes VLAs mandatory so I hope most implementations will nope out of them.

The C language syntax is also a joke and has its own thorns.

The most reasonable way to use C language is to avoid touching the C standard library at all, but this results in bespoke solutions incompatible with other people's bespoke solutions. Check a random project you will likely see it reimplement a string type.

In some ways you could dismiss these issues and treat C as a some form of portable assembler ("the language that provides you a mechanism but no policy, you're the one responsible for policy"), but you will be hindered by the gradual change of how undefined behaviour is treated both by the community and by the compilers over the years. It used to mean "several compilers did it differently so we're leaving it up to them" but nowadays is interpreted as "compiler will assume that every code path that leads to the code that would exhibit undefined behaviour is assumed to never happen" which leads to "interesting" situations where null checks are optimized away out of the produced binary code, increasing the severity of security holes many many times, and making the mapping from C code to assembly not obvious, making the supposed advantage of C illusory.

And then when you point all of this out the community will victim blame you and say that you should have been more careful.

Chat gimmick blogs are interacting with me what does this mean

[ultravioletbrit]

“celebrate” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 432 words

“James?” Regulus asks nervously.

“Yes, love?”

“Do you… would you… I wanted…” Regulus fumbles over his words.

“Reg?” James puts his hand on Regulus’ bouncing knee and Regulus takes a deep breath.

“I didn’t know if maybe… if you wanted to do something… special on Friday?” Regulus forces the question out, trying not to sound as stupid as he feels.

“Oh…err… sure, if you want.” James looks a little confused. “Any particular reason you want to do something Friday?” James asks, and now Regulus feels really stupid.

This is Regulus’ longest relationship. He’s never made it to six months, and he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe six months isn’t as important as he thought. But it feels important to Regulus, and he just wanted to do a nice dinner or something. But now he feels stupid for even bringing it up.

“Err… no… erm…” Regulus shakes his head and stands up from the couch. “Never mind.” He mumbles and starts to walk away.

James catches his wrist and pulls him back down beside him.

“Hey, no. I just didn’t know if there was a reason you wanted to do something Friday?” James asks again.

“No. It’s stupid. Never mind.” Regulus tries to stand up again but of course, James doesn’t let him get far, pulling him even closer this time.

“We can definitely do something Friday.” James tells him, rubbing circles on the back of Regulus’ hands. “For our anniversary, right?” James asks.

Regulus shrugs pathetically, looking down at his lap. James lifts a hand to Regulus’ chin and tilts his head up.

“I was only curious if there was a reason you wanted to celebrate on Friday, that’s all.” James says sweetly.

“Erm… because it’s our anniversary?” Regulus says, confused because didn’t they just establish that?

“Our anniversary’s on Saturday.” James says simply.

“No. It’s Friday.” Regulus corrects him.

“No. It’s Saturday.” James says with a little chuckle.

“James, you asked me out on the 8th.” Regulus tells him.

“Yeah… but you didn’t say ‘yes’ until the 9th.”

“I… oh.” Is all Regulus can manage to say.

“Now,” James says and pulls Regulus onto his lap. “I have some surprises planned for Saturday, but we can absolutely celebrate on Friday also.”

“No. That’s stupid.” Regulus mumbles as he buries himself in James’ chest, hiding his face that is probably several shades of red.

“Nope. We’re doing it!” James says excitedly. “And I’m disappointed with myself that I didn’t think of it first. So…” James starts talking about what they should do on Friday and Regulus feels so stupidly happy as he cuddles impossibly closer to James.

[peppermintquartz]

☑️ voted early here in Texas! My prompt is... voting. Because I think I'm funny.

Buck stretches, wincing as his back pops. He should have voted early, he knows, but he was so busy moving into Tommy's place that he forgot about dropping off his mail-in ballot.

At least he's not alone in line. Tommy is with him, reading his latest romance novel on his Kobo, his huge hand dwarfing the e-reader. Buck gets a little distracted thinking about what that hand was doing last night and is tsked loudly by the lady behind him to move forward.

"Water?" Tommy asks. He unzips his messenger bag and fishes out a water bottle. They have plans for hiking after this, because heavens forbid Tommy lets a shared day off go by without doing something strenuous.

(The first few weeks of dating, Buck managed to keep Tommy home for other types of strenuous activities, but now Tommy has built up some level of immunity. Buck was outraged by it at first, but now he has determined that it's his life goal to get Tommy to have semi-public sex on a hiking trail.)

"What's taking so long?" Buck grumbles, peering down the line. Someone in front seems to be holding up the queue and he sighs. "Next time, drop off my ballot for me?"

When Tommy doesn't answer, Buck turns to look at his boyfriend. "You okay?"

"You said... You said next time. As in, four years from now?" Tommy asks in a low voice.

"Yeah, I did." Light dawns on Buck and he grins, big and bright and teasing. "Have some faith in us, why don't you?"

Smiling now, Tommy ducks his head and resumes reading. Buck presses closer when he hears Tommy murmur "next time" to himself.

[cometconmain]

Not addressing anyone here. Just adding my recent experiences and thoughts on this concept.

Way too many people genuinely act like you don't get to be upset with someone trying to treat your human rights like pineapple on pizza. I fully agree. It's shitty as fuck. Bigots get to say the most vile things and everyone they're targeting has to treat them with fucking kid gloves and it's fucking bullshit. You have no obligation to be kind.

However, it is an unfortunate fact that most people (who are still reachable) learn and change when they're faced with calm challenges to their position, vs getting their head bitten off which is more likely to drive them into the arms of extremist groups who take advantage of their stress and confusion to pull them in. I've been trying to develop the patience and strength lately to build tolerance of lighter bigotry so I can talk with the person long enough to plant some seeds. I see it as less 'be kind' and more "is this person an actual lost cause or are they just parroting whatever because they've never had to think in their life about any beliefs they hold and only ever get to interact with a select handful of flavours of humanity? Can I reach them, even a little, then let them go and see what happens?"

I had a 2 hour conversation with a guy the other day who "doesn't believe in" climate change, thinks Trump is morally 'neutral' and that maybe segregating Trans and POC people at the Olympics is the answer to whether or not Trans people should be allowed to compete.

Stupid and fucked up? 300%.

He also held a lot of normal progressive views and was queer. Cognitive dissonance galore in this man. (He also somehow genuinely believes it's the Democrats rolling back queer rights and was surprised when I explained to him how the Supreme Court works and that they're the ones attacking human rights because the Court is currently controlled by Republicans, not Democrats. He was actually surprised so I'm concerned where the fuck he's getting his information from, damn. It's always so much 'fun' trying to understand and then explain American politics as an Australian to other Australians. XD )

I actually ended up managing to challenge the majority of the fucked up bullshit he spouted in a way that seemed to actually make him think. I could see and hear the way he was talking was someone with a very limited pool of information not knowing any better and he even literally said "I've never gotten to talk to someone like you before" and had a generally positive demeanour toward me the entire time (while internally I was going yuck yuck yuck yuck hold on deep breaths remember you had really shitty beliefs ten years ago and even recently and probably still have some you have to work on that make other people go yuck yuck yuck yuck hold on just let him hear himself and hear you and let it germinate).

A year ago I would have walked away and also stopped engaging with him entirely.

But this time I experimented with a different angle and because I put the effort in to assume ignorance and offer him active listening I think I gave him a lot to chew on. I could literally see him thinking about things in a way you only get when someone is actively listening back (compared to how they behave and speak when their only goal is to clobber and belittle and bad faith 'debate' you into the ground about your own goddamn human rights).

People are scared, people are ignorant, people lack education and a wide enough pool of experience to engage with to develop their own critical thought and self-improvement, and bad faith actors are always taking full advantage of this, ESPECIALLY at the political and law making level.

Please don't get me wrong though. None of this is to say everyone has to suddenly stand there for 2 hours getting slammed with rancid takes about their own identity, culture, race, sexuality or whatever else the person is casually stomping all over with their 'opinions' because they've never experienced what it's like to be on the receiving end of their own bullcrap. And if you're personally part of whatever group is being stomped on then yeah, if you don't have the energy to educate every random bigot while being expected to have no negative responses to their behaviour, then absolutely walk away. And anyone insisting you have some kind of obligation to take that to the face just to teach some random who thinks so little of you can fuck off.

But if you do have the capability - be it because you don't personally experience the thing but know how to help educate about it, or have enough patience left to try with this person because you think they're worth your effort - and you won't be putting yourself in danger by standing up to them, then please do give it a try occasionally. Even if all it does is help to remind you that bigots aren't a monolith and can hold the most progressive views available then turn around and slap you with 'ok but maybe we should segregate sports again' while so damn sure that's somehow not racist as fuck because they genuinely believe racism is when you look at brown skin and deny service or something and that's the full extent of education they have on what it is. (And that type of limited education extends to their understanding of other marginalised demographics too of course). Re-humanising the enemy is always going to be helpful for combating them, so you can try thinking of it like that too if you do decide you want to try with someone like this and need something to help you get through the conversation long enough to plant some seeds and hope they grow. Better to add people to our ranks than to 4Chan's.

Many people have helped me break away from dangerous subtler shitty beliefs and mentalities throughout my life simply by taking me through my paces on it and patiently challenging and then letting me grow, and it's made me a much better person. I'm so grateful to all of them and I'm trying to learn the skills to pass that on. I hope other people out there who have the energy to try this see this and give it a go when they can. A multi-faceted approach is usually the best way to go, I think, and there are enough of us out here that not everyone has to do this, but there are some who can (especially if they have relevant societal privileges to help shield them) and will and that can have a huge impact on changing the tide. (Just pick your battles carefully and stay safe.)

“Be kind to each other even if you disagree about politics”

Actually no, I’ll tell you to fuck off if you tell me I shouldn’t have rights. Hope this helps!

[silent-stories]

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒

(aka noah is looking too cute in his hoodie and you can't resist)

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting soft golden beams across the room. The air smelled faintly of coffee, and the low hum of the TV provided a gentle background noise. You sat on the couch beside Noah, legs folded under you, your body turned slightly towards him. He sat close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, his familiar scent filling the space between you.

Noah had been talking for what felt like hours about this new video game he’d been playing, a glimmer of excitement lighting up his brown eyes.

His hands moved animatedly as he described a particularly intense boss fight, the sleeves of his oversized black hoodie hanging loosely over his knuckles.

You loved the way he looked in that hoodie. It was one of his favorites —worn and soft, slightly too big on his frame, making him look even more comfortable, if that was even possible. The way the hood flopped lazily over his head made him look effortlessly cozy. Effortlessly boyfriend.

You weren't really listening to what he was saying anymore, though. Your mind was elsewhere, lost in the easy cadence of his voice, the way his lips curved around his words, the way he’d glance at you every so often, as if checking to see if you were still following his story.

You’d known Noah for years, ever since you’d met through mutual friends. Over time, the two of you had grown close—late-night hangouts, inside jokes, and endless text threads about music, games, and everything in between.

It was the kind of friendship you cherished, but it also held a secret you weren’t sure you could keep to yourself any longer.

You liked him. More than liked him. In fact, you might be in love with him.

It wasn’t a sudden realization, though. The feeling had been there for months, slowly building every time he sent you a good morning text, or when he smiled at you in that soft, shy way of his. The crush had bloomed quietly, and you thought you could manage it, thought you could just push it aside and stay content with being friends.

But sitting here, so close to him, watching him light up over something as mundane as a video game, your heart ached with the weight of it. He looked so perfect in this moment, so comfortable and happy, and all you could think was that you wanted to kiss him so badly.

Your eyes drifted down to the hoodie he was wearing, the fabric bunching slightly as he pulled his arms back, resting them behind his head. The loose fit made him seem even softer, more like the guy you’d always imagined being with, not some distant, impossible dream, but someone real, right in front of you.

His hair was messy, falling into his face as he absentmindedly pushed it back, too focused on recounting his latest gaming adventure to notice the way your gaze lingered on him.

“—and then, after all that, the boss pulls this insane move, like totally unpredictable,” Noah was saying, his voice full of excitement. He leaned forward slightly, as if the memory alone was making his heart race all over again. “I thought for sure I was done for, but I got this idea, you know? Like everything just clicked.”

You nodded, but your thoughts were far from the battle he was describing. Instead, you were focused on how his hoodie seemed to swallow him up, the sleeves long, the fabric worn and soft, practically begging to be touched. He looked so… cozy. So sweet. You could imagine him lounging around in that hoodie all day, maybe curled up on the couch with you, his arm wrapped around you as you watched movies together, maybe even falling asleep on your shoulder. The image was so vivid, it made your heart swell.

“You should try it,” Noah said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. You blinked, realizing you hadn’t caught a word of what he’d just said. He was staring at you now, his eyes soft with concern. “Are you okay? You’ve been kinda quiet.”

Your heart jumped at the sudden attention. “Yeah, sorry. I was just... thinking.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and he turned his body a little more towards you, giving you his full attention. “Thinking about what?”

You swallowed hard, not sure how to answer. What could you say? Thinking about how ridiculously cute you look in that hoodie? Or maybe, Thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now? No, those wouldn’t do. You were already feeling vulnerable, your emotions bubbling too close to the surface, threatening to spill over if you said the wrong thing.

“Nothing important,” you said, trying to brush it off. “Just… lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

Noah didn’t seem convinced. His eyes softened, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. “Come on, I know you better than that. What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, your gaze flicking down to his hoodie again. It was such a small thing, but it felt like the embodiment of everything you’d been feeling lately—how close you were to him, how comfortable, how easy it was to be in his presence, and yet how painfully aware you were of the unspoken feelings between you.

He looked so casual, so effortlessly himself, and for some reason, that made it harder to keep pretending that your feelings were purely platonic.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. Before you could second-guess yourself, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. Your hand found his chest, lightly resting against his chest as you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was soft, tentative. You hadn’t planned it, hadn’t thought it through—you just felt it. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. The world around you disappeared, and all that was left was the warmth of Noah’s lips against yours, the way his body froze in surprise for just a second before he responded.

His hand reached up, almost instinctively, cupping your cheek as he kissed you back, his touch gentle but sure.

When you finally pulled away, your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath coming out in uneven puffs.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him right away, suddenly unsure of what you’d just done. Had you ruined everything? Was he going to pull back, tell you it was a mistake?

But when you finally forced yourself to meet his gaze, Noah was looking at you with an expression you hadn’t seen before. His lips were slightly parted, still processing what had just happened, but there was no confusion, no rejection. Instead, there was something softer.

“So… that’s what you’ve been thinking about?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laughed nervously. “Yeah… something like that.”

For a moment, there was only silence between you. You were waiting for him to say something—anything—but instead, he just stared at you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to figure out what this all meant.

“I—” you started, but before you could say another word, Noah leaned in and kissed you again.

This kiss was different. It wasn’t tentative or unsure. It was full of something deeper, something that had been simmering between you for so long, waiting for the right moment to spill over.

His hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours, slow and deliberate, as if he’d been holding back for too long and was finally allowing himself to feel.

When he pulled back this time, a little smile was on his lips.

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah?”

Noah nodded, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he finally pulled back enough to look at you. “Yeah… for a while now. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

You blinked, trying to process his words. “What?”

He chuckled, his fingers still gently brushing the side of your face. “Why do you think I’ve been coming over here so much? It wasn’t just to talk about video games for sure.”

You laughed, the sound coming out a little shaky. “I thought you were just being a good friend.”

“I mean, I am,” he teased, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “But I guess I wanted to be a little more than your friend."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, the tension you hadn’t realized you’d been holding finally starting to ease. All this time, you’d been worried that your feelings would ruin things, that you’d be the one to overstep, but now… now everything felt right. Like maybe this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

Noah smiled softly, his hand slipping from your cheek to your waist as he pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around you in a way that felt so natural, so easy. You rested your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing your nerves.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to relax, to sink into the warmth of him, of this moment, of the quiet realization that you didn’t have to hide your feelings anymore.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

[dduane]

I just read the part where Kirk experiences the Enterprise's point of view in The Wounded Sky to someone else, where she sees the crew as children she is training up to the Great Desire of exploration for exploration's sake, especially Jim. His reaction, essentially: "That was really pretty. ....And then he blows her up."

I hadn't thought about that before! I checked the copyright date, and it looks like The Wounded Sky came out a year before The Search for Spock, so you were writing without knowing that sacrifice would eventually happen.

How did you feel about that? Do you wish that writing decision had been made differently? (If, as a Trek writer, you're allowed to comment on other Trek writers' choices!)

You know, I tend not to think a whole lot about such issues. First of all, because (in the long run) it gets you nowhere in particular that's useful. And secondly, because it's not a thing that, as a Trek writer in any medium except film, you have the slightest power to change.

Now, at this end of time I think we can safely say that no one's going to hire me on to write a Trek film. And also that no one at that end of the creative spectrum is going to pay the slightest attention to anything I say, either. Both of those situations are just What's So, and neither of them bothers me. (Since I have universes of my own to manage at the moment, and that's where my attention properly lies.) So as regards my opinions about other writers' work, I'm pretty much off the hook.

If I had been on screenwriting duty for that film, would there be things I'd have wanted to do differently? Hell yeah. From the premise up. But the important thing here is: would those things necessarily have worked better on the screen / with the audience? Impossible to tell. And speaking as someone repeatedly given permission to work in someone's universe, the main thing to be aware of is the expectation that your chief responsibility is to do what best serves the characters and the IP of which they're part. (There's a post over at Out of Ambit with a lot more of my thoughts on the subject:)

The other thing to remember is that, though I've worn the Canonical Hat in my time, novel work is by definition non-canonical. Doing it, you are at all times working with the understanding that the licensor rarely views your work as anything better than a corporate side hustle—a way for the IP to make some cash on the side—and will ignore you and the stuff you've created unless given pressing reasons to do otherwise. (Such as when they might make some unexpected money off it... at which point you remind yourself as forcibly as necessary that what you did is Work For Hire; they own it, lock, stock and barrel, and you should not realistically expect to be given any credit.)

And, if you understand the rules and enjoy the work enough, all of this is okay. The reward is not in making a lot of money doing it, or even in having aspects of your work openly assumed into canon. The reward lies in being allowed to contribute to a given universe in public (and, yeah, getting paid for it by the licensor). It's not payback: it's payforward. And you're left an astonishing amount of freedom to bring your vision to that universe. (Sometimes... as one colleague has McCoy say... you have to be "very, very careful" to get away with it. But it can be done.)

The truth is that even in the 1980s, I was sharing this level of playing-in-a-universe with a goodish cohort of editors and writers: a big roomful at least. Now I'm sharing it (retroactively speaking) with hundreds of them. With the best will in the world, even in the 80's the licensors (as regarded film) couldn't have realistically polled/listened to all of us regarding our creative opinions about the screenplay end of things. As for what that'd look like nowadays... I'll leave you to your own deductions. 😏

Anyway, thanks for the question. It's always nice to know that there are people who want to know what you think. 😊

[forgottensomewhere]

(I'm a little bit not very smart so I apologize if I answer something wrong lol)

1. A deer jawbone that I found at a railroad track

2. A bee in a lil dome

3. A wet specimen of a rat that I named Ratthew

4. Part of a squirrel skull, I'm just mad that it broke when I dug it up :(

5. 30ish?????

6. Yeah

7. Taxidermy pigeon (I forget the exact amount but it was around $200)

8. Something I scavenged probably

9. Pig or cow skull

10. I don't know but I really like ribs and vertebrae

11. Rabbit

12. I think it would be cool if I could get a wet specimen of a fawn

13. 🤷

14. I like finding things myself because for me it feels like something I earned but I still buy stuff

15. Yeah

16. Nah, I feel really sad when I see roadkill so I could never hunt lol I would feel so bad

17. Water

18. Yeah

19. I think I started collecting little things here and there when I was like 15

20. Oh yeah absolutely. Plenty of my friends get a little bit weirded out, the running joke is they can never take me anywhere because I'm always trying to pick up carcasses.

21. Yeah I have a few friends who are also into it

22. 🤷

23. Nopeeeee

24. Bones from juvenile squirrels

25. Taxidermy pigeon

26. No

27. No but I would really like to learn someday

28. No

29. Definitely taxidermy

30. Nah I like having my little hoard I would want to keep everything for myself lol

31. Yeah probably

32. I love seeing all of the cool collections, I get so jealous but it's so awesome

33. 🤷

34. One time when I was changing out the water in a maceration bucket and I somehow managed to get a little bit of water splashback in my mouth oh my God I was so grossed out and terrified of getting sick

35. See the answer to question 34

36. Nope

37. Yeah

38. A deer head I found on the side of the road

39. I have a part of the skull of my pet love bird that passed away a long time ago. When my dog passes away I'll probably just have him cremated and keep the ashes

40. Honestly I'm not as well versed as I should be😅 (don't worry I'm looking into it now)

41. Not as much time as I wish but I enjoy the little bits of time I can set aside

42. Yeah

43. @earthenremains @graveyardharmony @breathing-rapture

44. I would like to

45. Not really

46. I think I kind of just fell into it. Ever since I was little I always loved collecting little trinkets and stuff and then it gradually became more like collecting bugs and bones and all of that.

47. Nope I think it's funny when people find me off putting because of my hobby

48. A little bit, I am a Hades devotee so death and all of that kind of ties into it

49. I really like collecting bones and taxidermy and all of that stuff because it feels like giving the poor little creature a second purpose. Instead of leaving it to rot away and be forgotten, I cherish the things that I find

50. Aside from the really obvious hobby, I really like to read and play video games. I really really really like the Magnus archives. My favorite word is basil (please help I'm so sorry I'm always bad at talking about myself 😭)

Vulture culture asks

First piece?

Last piece?

Favorite piece?

Least favorite piece?

How many items in your collection?

Would you consider buying something for your collection?

Most expensive?

Least expensive?

Dream skull?

Dream non skull bone?

Dream pelt?

Dream dry/wet preserve (including diaphonization)?

Dream other?

Prefer finding or buying?

Do you pick up road kill?

Do you ever hunt animals and then collect bones?

Water or burying?

Collect insects?

How long have you collected?

Does anyone around you think it’s gross/weird?

Is anyone around you interested in it like you are?

Weirdest thing you’ve found?

Ever bleached or boiled?

Smallest piece?

Biggest piece?

Do you tan?

Do you taxidermy?

Do you diaphonize?

What’s one thing you want to learn in vulture culture?

Do you or would ever consider selling vulture culture items (link your shop if you sell!!!)?

Would you buy a human bone?

What’s your favorite thing about vulture culture?

What’s your favorite animal type to work with? (Ex: mammals, birds, etc. OR cats, butterflies etc.)?

What’s the nastiest thing you’ve done while doing vulture culture?

Ever had a vulture culture accident?

Ever articulated a skeleton?

Do you like collecting things like shells or beehives?

What do you have in the cleaning process right now?

Would you keep your own pets pelt/bones?

Do you think collection laws are reasonable or not?

How much time do you spend doing vulture culture?

Do you have a vulture culture display case or display room?

What are your 3 favorite vulture culture blogs?

Collect antlers?

Do you make any vulture culture related art or art out of vulture culture things?

Did someone else get you into vulture culture?

Do you have to hide your vulture culture from anyone?

Does vulture culture tie into any of your religious beliefs (you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to)?

Why vulture culture?

Introduce yourself to the vc community and say a few things about yourself!!!

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - PART FIVE*

Summary: “Y/N hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, but it seems like she is not the only one overthinking this time…”

Tropes: innocent!reader x boxer!harry

Wc: 3k

Warnings: smutty scenes, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, teeny tiny bit of angst ig

A/N: I AM BACK! I finished my exams today and I hurried home to write the rest of this chapter bc I have been itching to do so for the past weeks. I will try not to put as much time in between the next chapters, sorry about that! Love you all and enjoy!!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It had been three days. Three entire days since the kissing-in-the-car debacle that Y/N had participated in, and she still wasn't over it. How was she supposed to act normal at their class tomorrow? It had plagued her mind ever since she walked into her apartment that Saturday night.

All weekend, she had been contemplating different things. Saturday and Sunday, she was sure she wanted to never see his face again because she couldn't stand the embarrassment. But when Monday rolled around and re-thought everything after coming back from work, she realized that she should probably be mature and talk to him.

However, that resulted into her pacing around her room like a maniac with the phone in her hand, his number ready to dial. For the past twenty minutes she had been trying to convince herself to just press that call button and get it over with.

"C'mon..." Y/N growled to herself. She stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and finally called him. Her hands were sweating as the dial tone sounded over and over again, and the nerves she felt were sure to explode her stomach, but she kept breathing and waited for Harry to pick up.

The distant sound of a phone ringing took Y/N’s attention away from her own attempted call. Her heart began beating even faster as she walked towards her front door, and sure enough, when looking through her peephole, she saw Harry standing in front of her door.

As she took the lock off, Y/N broke up the call and putting her phone in her pocket. Harry's eyes were wide at the door opening all of a sudden, but he still managed to muster an awkward smile amidst his shock before he greeted her.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"Hi." She greeted back, unsure of what to do or say or feel. "uhm, what are you doing here?"

The question came out so soft, as if she was scared to ask it, not ready for the consequences his answer may bear. Maybe it was true; she had always had the feeling that her body was better at communicating her true feelings than her brain was.

"I need to talk to you." Harry said, his tone serious enough for Y/N's chest to start pressing on her, but a soft edge to it nonetheless. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door wider and letting Harry inside her apartment. He walked in and silently observed the place. Y/N felt oddly tense as she waited for him to take it all in, but he was quite quick to turn around. In the seconds that he stood there, entirely quiet, Y/N deduced the obvious: he was awaiting some instructions from her.

"Go sit on the couch, do you want something to drink?" She asked, already heading for the kitchen. Harry sat down like she told him to, but shook his head.

"No thank you, just wanna talk. Can you... sit down?" His difficulty to meet her eye and the apprehension behind his words had Y/N immediately head for the couch and sit down next to him.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked innocently, like she wasn’t the reason this awkwardness existed in the first place.

"About last Saturday." He answered. You began to shake your head, cheeks already reddening from the shame that washed over you.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just— hold on," He interrupted her. "I said something, that night, I can't help but think that you didn't take it how I meant it. And it has been eating at me all weekend because I'd hate to be the fool who accidentally rejected you."

Harry's eyes bored into Y/N's until she couldn't take the intensity of it anymore and looked down. He leaned forward, putting his hand on her leg. She studied his fingers as they slowly caressed her skin.

"Harry, it's okay. I misinterpreted it, you don't have to make excuses to make me feel better." She shrugged her shoulders, hoping to prematurely dodge any bullets that might have ended up with her crying otherwise.

"I'm not!" He protested. "I— Y/N, look at me."

When she didn't instantly comply, Harry's fingers traced up to her chin and redirected her face towards him, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb slowly stroked her chin as he took in every inch of her face.

"I wanted it." He said slowly, making sure she heard every word he says. Slowly leaning in, he added: "Really bad."

His lips hovered near hers, so close it was nearly sending her into a frenzy, but far away enough for him to assess her reaction on his movements. But Y/N was an open book, a reactive person when it came to these desires. She couldn't feign disinterest as she had never felt this strongly about someone in such a perverted manner before. Harry mouth slowly curled up into a smirk.

"Can I show you how badly I wanted it?" He asked, the heat of his breath reaching her face and making her core pulsate. The only thing Y/N could do was nod, and before she knew it, Harry's lips closed in on hers.

A soft whine escaped her throat as he kissed her, the desperation of her body unshielded under his roughly delicate touch. Nothing seemed to make sense as he slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back on the couch, nothing but him.

Harry leaned forward, not taking his mouth off Y/N as she sat against the armrest. He hovered over her, his body between her spread legs. One of his hands was holding onto her waist, while the other one kept him up by holding onto the armrest.

As their tongues danced around each other, Harry's hand slipped down from her waist towards her inner thighs, and Y/N felt her panties getting wet at the suggestive caresses of her skin. She put her hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back a little bit, their lips now apart. Still caught up in the heat of the moment, Harry mindlessly trailed his kisses down her jaw and then onto her neck.

"Harry." Y/N tried to get his attention, but his name sounded more like an erotic plea, and caused a growl to sound from his lips, followed by a rougher treatment on her neck. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as his lips sucked at that sensitive skin of her, and a small whine fell from her as he bruised her neck.

"Ha— hmm... Harry!" She exclaimed. "S— stop."

Within a millisecond, or at least it felt like that, Harry's hands and mouth were removed from her. His face was filled with worry as he took in hers.

"Are you okay? Did I go too far?" He began asking, but she was quick to shake her head.

"No! It's just— I haven't really, done much of this before. I don't have a lot of experience and uhm, I just wanted you to know that before we... proceeded." Y/N explained, voice near trembling as she spoke. Harry's eyes softened, and his face pulled into a soft smile.

"Thank you for telling me." He said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss before pulling back, sitting up straight. "I just have one question, though."

Y/N nodded, big doe eyes staring right at him as that innocent smile transformed into a smug grin.

"Can I show you what I actually wanted to do last Saturday?" He asked, stroking her already spread legs. Before she knew it, the answer fell from Y/N's lips.

"Yes."

He let out a satisfied hum before his hands grabbed at her shorts and pulled them down along with her underwear, leaving her bare cunt to be exposed to him. Y/N blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how exposed she was, but the fascination that twinkled in Harry's eyes washed most of her insecurities away. She watched carefully as he leaned down and his fingers began stroking her folds.

Y/N held her breath in anticipation, curiously waiting for Harry to continue, and when he finally put his hands on her clit, she couldn't help but shift in her seat a bit at the tingling sensation.

"O— oh!" She shrieked when she felt Harry's tongue attached itself to her clit, his middle finger now paying more attention to slowly beginning to slide in and out of her. Y/N tried to control her breathing to the best of her abilities as Harry explored her sopping and pulsating core.

Y/N's mind had gone all fuzzy from the sweet feeling of his touch on her sensitive parts. It was impossible to focus on anything else than Harry, and even if it was, she wouldn't dare take her eyes off of him anyway. It was addictive, the way he was ravishing her like she was a culinary meal, and it felt glorying.

Harry temporarily removed his mouth from her heat, and looked up at Y/N before saying: "C'mon, angel. Tell me how it feels."

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname she'd grown to love ever since the first time he said it, and she tried to control her whines as she responded.

"So— ah! So good..." She managed to reply, her knuckles turning white from balling up her fists in an attempt to not come too early. Harry's tongue swept over her clit in such an intoxicating way, and his now two fingers pumping in and out of her was only getting her closer to her inevitable climax.

Harry moaned at her verbal approval, and picked up the pace of both his mouth and his fingers, leaving her nothing but a whimpering mess under him. This was surely going to be the death of her, wasn’t it?

"Harry— I think I'm going to..." She ran out of breath before she could finish your sentence, and she began convulsing around him, legs trembling as her orgasm began to reach her like a wave building up. And then just like that, it crashed.

With a cry of his name and a few profanities that followed, the sensual waves of her release hit Y/N. The release was slow and long, and one of the most satisfying ones she'd ever had. Harry's touch stayed on her skin, helping her ride out her high.

When he finally backed away, Y/N was still breathing heavily from what she had just experienced. Wide eyed, she observed how he licked his lips before he looked up at her. She could've come again from the sight of that alone.

"D'you want some water?" Harry suddenly asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to your kitchen. She followed him with her eyes, mouth agape as he went through her kitchen cabinets until he stumbled upon two glasses and filled them with water. As he returned to the couch, he raised a brow, indicating that he was still waiting on an answer.

"Uhm, yes, thank you." Y/N stumbled as he handed her the glass. She took a few sips, scanning him while she drank. He was so casual all of a sudden, leaning back against the couch with his legs spread like that... there was something cocky about it and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to roll her eyes at it or jump his bones.

Possibly both, at the same time.

Y/N put her glass down and slowly crawled over to Harry, who sniffed a laugh at her wobbly movements on the way too squishy couch. She hoped it would at least come off as cute, now that her attempt at being sexy had been trampled by her own furniture.

As the laughter from both parties died down, Y/N took it upon herself to slowly start kissing Harry's neck. Her heartbeat rose when she felt him shifting in his seat, a pained sigh escaping his throat. Meticulously, she dragged her hand down his chest until it reached his pants, and she began unbuckling his belt.

She was surprised when she felt his hand pull hers away, and stopped her actions to see what was going on. When she saw his clenched jaw, she frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"You don't have to do that angel." He said, tilting his head a bit. She slowly shook her head.

"Oh, alright." She said, and felt a pang in her chest at the idea that she could've done something wrong. Harry took both of her hands, cupping his over them.

"I’d like to save it for next time." He suggested, the slight raise of his brow adding a certain playfulness to his reply. The hint of a smile on his face filled her with a warm feeling, and she quickly found herself nodding at what Harry had said.

“Plus, I have to get my beauty rest… I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I teach this private self-defense class, client’s got me working till late.” He joked, eyes beaming when a giggle fell from her lips. Y/N took her bottom lip between her teeth, stomach fluttering as she took in the painfully beautiful, funny, charismatic man in front—or well, under her.

“Really? Is she any good?” She teased back, brows raising in surprise when Harry nodded.

“Difficult to teach tho.” He responded.

“Why’s that?” Y/N questioned, genuine curiosity dripping from her tone. Harry took his eyes off her and shamelessly lowered his gaze to her body as his hands, that had dug into her waist, slowly began to trail down to her ass.

“‘S just so hard to concentrate…” He said lowly, and she felt her core heating up again at the sole sound of Harry’s voice. Her cheeks flushed alike at what he was implying, and she felt like an animal with the way her body reacted to him.

Y/N remained as quiet as she could, savoring Harry’s touch on her bare skin. She would have closed her eyes, had she not been too mesmerized by her face to do so.

Nerves swirled in her stomach as she watched Harry’s stare trail upwards again, only to stop at her lips. Gradually, he leaned forward, closing the gap between the two’s mouths. Y/N couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her when Harry put his lips on her again, and much like the touch of his hands on her, she relished in the way his tongue circled around hers, and she was surprised at how well their bodies captured the connection that she had been unable to explain in words.

It was safe to say that Y/N was disappointed when at last Harry pulled away, but she couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face of his.

Her eyes widened when he got up all of a sudden, hands still holding up her thighs in the few moments before she wrapped them tightly around him in response to the sudden movement. He sniffed a laugh, which Y/N was only able to hear because her arms were locked around Harry’s neck and her face was only a few centimeters away from his. The urge to smile almost prevailed over her shock.

Harry’s hands let go of Y/N’s thighs, and she lowered her legs in response, putting her feet on the ground again and removing herself from his touch completely.

As they walked towards the front door, Y/N found herself to be a bit gloomy. She didn’t want him to leave, he was so fun to be around. He made her not worry, which was a miracle because Y/N always worried. And she knew she’d go back to worrying and overthinking the second she’d be alone again, so the prospect of Harry going away was not the most fun. She had to remind herself that she’d see him tomorrow, though.

Y/N opened the door, waiting as Harry put on his coat. When he finally had, he turned to her one last time.

“Sleep tight, angel.” He said, and with that, walked right out the door. Y/N croaked out a weak ‘bye’, but she was pretty sure she’d heard the elevator ding by then.

It took her a minute to recover physically before turning off her lights in the living room and floating towards her bathroom, where she smiled like an idiot all the way through brushing her teeth.

It wasn’t until her head hit the pillow that what she dreaded came along again: that tiresome worry. Thoughts and scenarios filled her head as she lied in bed, watching the ceiling as if it would grant her answers, or peace.

It was as if, with Harry, nothing else truly mattered. Not necessarily in the corny, dramatic way, but rather in the sense that it felt like the outside world wasn’t that much of a factor in Y/N’s decisions, nor did she have the feeling that it should be whenever she was around him. But when he was gone, it would all start to matter again and suddenly she found herself doubting whether dating Harry would even be a good idea.

What would her parents think? What would Sophie think? Would she be viewed as less professional by her co-workers for dating her trainer? Would it impact Harry’s reputation—

She stopped herself. Probably not, considering Harry was a man.

It was with a frown that Y/N eventually dozed off into a deep slumber. Not even in her dreams she was safe from the anxiety that plagued her, a nightmare about being fired stirring her awake at around four in the morning. She was more exhausted when she woke up than when she went to bed.

But despite all of it, her body still buzzed in anticipation of tonight’s class…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @kierramcduffie @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @bitchidontpost @lomlolivia

[half-oz-eddie]

I didn’t know I wanted you (Until I couldn’t have you)

Part 2/5

“…He’s always talking down to me and treating me like a child.” Buck huffed as they slowly followed the hiking trail to a platform above a waterfall.

Buck let out a wistful sigh, releasing all his pent up stress as he enjoyed the view. “Hey, Tommy.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know this waterfall is a 30 foot drop? They say it’s the most beautiful during rainfall.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy smiled, leaning against the platform railing and looking down.

“Yeah a-and in the 1850s, miners created the canal to wash gold from the earth. This park actually has connections to—“

“The gold rush, yeah.” Tommy nodded. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No, but..it was on my bucket list.” Buck ducked his head with a bashful chuckle. “Thanks for uh…flying me out here.”

“Sure. You seemed like you needed to get away from all the noise and get out of your head a bit.”

“Yeah…” Buck sighed. “Sorry for kinda—bringing that here with me. I’m just really frustrated.”

“I get it. Working under a guy like Gerrard can be pretty taxing. I lost myself in so many hobbies trying to forget about the work day, and I didn’t really have any family to turn to so it was better than keeping it all bottled up.”

“Or punching someone.” Buck replied with a laugh.

Tommy joined the laughter, nodding in agreement. “Yeah. Or that.” Tommy briefly paused. “And besides, I did fly Eddie to Vegas, and you seemed like you felt a little left out—“

“Yeah” Buck admitted with a smile “a little. A-and this is a bit of a further distance than Vegas. Ah—n-not that this is a competition or anything.”

Tommy shot Buck a charming smirk that made Buck’s heart swell with the feeling he desperately tried to ignore. “Right. Not a competition.”

In an attempt to redirect the conversation and his own feelings, Buck suggested heading to the picnic area.

“These chicken wraps are amazing.” Tommy complimented with his mouth full.

“Thanks I, uh, I learned to cook from Bobby.”

“Mm.” Tommy hummed, continuing to eat to his heart’s content.

“We should do this again sometime—oh, look, there’re some sheep over there!”

“Yeah they’re here for vegetation management. Pretty cool, right?”

“Very cool.”

“And, yes, Evan. I’d love to come here more often with you. Maybe we can do this every time our schedules align?”

“That’d be great!” Buck smiled widely, that nagging feeling returning once again.

Tommy’s so cool.

When Buck got home, he laid out on his bed, sighing dreamily as he reminisced about the day he had.

The waterfall was amazing—Tommy’s so cool—Those sheep were so cute! We even saw a horse—The way Tommy knew the entire trail like the back of his hand was really impressive—The park was so quiet and calming—Tommy’s such a great person.

Eventually, the thoughts of Tommy won him over, and Buck just couldn’t stop thinking about Tommy. The best, coolest, most amazing guy he’d ever met.

No, that would sound a little too weird right? I don’t mean it in a weird way? How do I even mean it?

I like hanging out with Tommy. I like Tommy. He’s cool. So cool. The coolest.

And I don't wanna weird him out.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

All these posts I see with the nerve to say, "We'll be alright, we'll be okay, we'll continue to fight, we'll continue to hope," have made me more weary than the plain truth.

It's over. That's it, it's over. Our country has been taken from us.

The genocide will be invigorated, and any hope of U.S. pressure bringing it to an end is gone. I'm so sorry.

Everyone with a uterus will lose any semblance of human rights they once enjoyed. You can say goodbye to being considered a human being, you can say goodbye to any consensus whatsoever that your very life ever mattered.

Every queer and transgender person will face outright persecution and lose the right to so much as exist as themselves, alongside which even cishet people will lose all right to self-expression.

Immigrants will lose whatever fragile hold they had allowing them to pursue life and happiness in this country and will be forced away from their families, jobs, and loved ones if not worse.

Police abuse against people of color and any political dissenters will be invigorated and their immunity from justice will expand.

The prices will continue to rise and the wages will drop or remain stagnant at best.

Disabled Americans, including any American with any pre-existing condition, will lose all access to healthcare as medical costs will skyrocket and our meager insurance will be stripped of us. We will be left in the street to die.

So don't fucking tell me to "hold onto hope" and don't you dare fucking tell me "we will be okay." Who is we? It isn't me, or any of my friends or loved ones. There is not a single person I know that doesn't fall into at least one of the above-mentioned categories. Not one person in this country am I acquainted with who has neither a functioning uterus, nor ANY medical condition whatsoever, nor is an immigrant or from an immigrant family, nor is a person of color, nor is a member of the LGBTQ+ community. Think about it. Do you?

So, in God's name, who the fuck is "gonna be okay"? Anyone lucky enough to survive? Anyone who lucks out and manages to avoid a dangerous pregnancy (which will be soo easy once we lose access to birth control, I'm sure), or manages to stay under the ICE's radar, or manages not to be pulled over by a pig who needs to take out his rage over his wife surviving her last beating, or manages to not get sick or injured ever again? That's somehow not as comforting as people think it is.

And as for the genocide, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry that my country has once again failed the people of Palestine. I hope all the people who abstained from voting because Kamala wasn't pro-Palestinian enough feel really good about themselves when they watch countless more children being slaughtered as Israel is bolstered in its capacity to accelerate the genocide beyond any level we've seen thusfar. I'm so, so sorry to my brothers and sisters in Palestine. I'm so sorry that we failed you.

This isn't to say we should stop fighting. But the time for hope and handholding and singing kumbaya is over. Compassion and love have failed, today has proved that. Violence is our only option left.

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Royal Duties

I wrote three little one shots for the pole just in case lol so now I'm posting all three

Pairing: Gil Galad x Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning light filters through the tall windows of the grand hall, glancing off the polished stone floors and casting a warm glow over the rows of nobility gathered to witness court proceedings. You sit beside Ereinion, the high-backed throne beneath you feeling almost too formal for the mood between you and the king. Ereinion leans forward slightly, face carefully composed, yet his eyes flick over to you with the faintest glint of mischief.

As a particularly haughty lord delivers a speech about his region’s contribution to the realm, you barely manage to keep a straight face. Ereinion clears his throat softly, disguising a chuckle as he murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, “I don’t think there’s a single person in this hall who doesn’t already know how ‘noble’ his house is.”

The corners of your mouth twitch, and you turn to him, casting a sidelong glance. “Do you think he’d notice if we slipped out the back?”

“Not if we leave the guards with a very good excuse,” he replies smoothly, casting you a look that suggests he’s half-serious. Then, with the practiced grace of a king who’s held this position for centuries, he adjusts his expression to one of benevolent patience, looking for all the world as though he’s deeply engaged.

The lord finally finishes, and Ereinion, without missing a beat, offers him a solemn nod. “Thank you for your… continued service,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips as the lord bows himself out of the hall.

The moment he’s out of earshot, you lean toward Ereinion, unable to hold back your grin. “Shall we give him a new title? Perhaps Lord of Long-Winded Speeches?”

He bites back a laugh, the sound escaping in a soft breath. “Consider it granted. I’ll have the scribes make note of it.”

The two of you exchange a look, and for a heartbeat, you’re just Ereinion and… well, not the queen, not here under the judgmental gaze of court. Just the two of you, sharing an inside joke.

After several more interactions with various lords and advisors — all of whom seem to be vying to one-up each other — you and Ereinion finally manage a brief escape. You slip into one of the palace gardens, hidden by high walls and leafy trees, where the murmur of court life fades into a distant hum.

He grins, glancing around to make sure no one followed, then gives you a low bow, offering his hand. “My lady, might I steal a dance?”

You raise an eyebrow, taking his hand with mock formality. “I thought we’d save that for the next dreadfully dull council meeting. Just to keep them on their toes.”

“Good point,” he replies, spinning you under his arm in a quick flourish. He catches you in a mock-dramatic pose, his face so close that you can feel his breath, warm against your cheek. His eyes linger on yours, and the flirty banter fades for just a moment as he holds your gaze.

“Should we head back?” you murmur, aware that duty awaits — and that the more time you spend away from court, the more questions you’ll face.

But Ereinion only shrugs, his smile unmistakably mischievous. “Let them wonder. The king and queen deserve a moment to themselves, don’t you think?”

Ereinion’s hand is warm in yours as he spins you down the marble halls, your laughter mingling with his in the quiet, echoing corridors. The two of you move in perfect sync, each step lighter than the last. He dips you dramatically, and you stifle a laugh, whispering, “You know, this isn’t exactly dignified for the High King and Queen.”

“Good thing we’re in the far wing, then,” he replies, grinning as he pulls you upright again. “Besides, a little undignified behavior keeps things interesting.”

You can barely reply as he whirls you around, catching you just as you’re about to stumble. This side of Ereinion, so full of laughter, the sharp edge of command nowhere to be seen—it’s a rare thing, and you savor every second.

Just as he’s twirling you under his arm again, a figure appears at the end of the hall, stepping out from around a corner with raised eyebrows and a barely suppressed smile. Elrond crosses his arms, watching you both with an amused shake of his head.

“Oh, how regal,” he drawls, a glint in his eyes. “The High King and Queen, so tirelessly devoted to their duties, I see.”

You straighten, feigning the most queenly look you can manage despite the laughter bubbling up. “Elrond,” you say sweetly, “do you think I wouldn’t relegate you to writing our correspondence for Lord of Long-Winded Speeches?”

At this, Ereinion throws his head back, his laughter filling the hall. It’s deep, genuine, and utterly without restraint, echoing off the high ceilings as though he hasn’t laughed this freely in an age. Elrond stares, visibly startled, as his king—the indomitable Gil-galad, ruler of the Noldor—doubles over, still clutching your hand, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

You join him, feeling the tears gather in your eyes as you squeeze his hand tighter, both of you struggling to compose yourselves. Elrond looks between the two of you, his expression utterly dumbfounded.

“Truly,” Elrond finally says, “I’ve seen many things over the years, but this…” He shakes his head in mock exasperation, trying and failing to hide a grin of his own. “I’ll leave you to your… ‘royal duties,’ then.”

With a smirk, you give him a little wave. “We’ll leave you to your actual duties, Elrond. Someone’s got to keep up the kingdom’s standards, after all.”

As he walks away, muttering under his breath about “giggly rulers,” you turn to Ereinion, whose face is still lit up with laughter.

“Shall we?” he asks, still a little breathless.

You both head down the hall, still snickering quietly, leaving a thoroughly shocked Elrond behind. And as you walk hand-in-hand, you can’t help but feel that these moments—the ones stolen from duty, spent in laughter—are what make this life with him complete.

[hana-bobo-finch]

i like zasp a lot

[fourthavecafe]

Request: Quite literally anything with Geto x Reader, please! I'm so curious to see how you write him! Your writing gives me life, I haven't found another blog like yours before!

morning surprises

summary-you recently joined your bf’s cult but you’re not used to waking up in early in the morningᡣ𐭩

The morning sun hadn’t quite filled the room yet but you could feel something… someone stirring near you. A faint touch brushed against your side, soft enough to be almost imaginary and your half-asleep mind just barely registered it. You tried to bury yourself deeper under the blankets, willing yourself back to sleep. Then, a warm, familiar voice cut through the morning stillness.

“Sleeping in again, are we?” Suguru’s tone was filled with that amused, knowing edge he so often had. You peeked one eye open to find him leaning over you, a smile that was both affectionate and sly tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You groaned, stretching and mumbling, “Just a few more minutes, Suguru…”

He sighed but you caught the playful glint in his eye as he shifted closer. “Is that so?” he murmured, fingertips brushing feather-light against your side again, this time lingering a bit longer.

You flinched instinctively, feeling a ticklish tingle and let out a barely-contained giggle, which only seemed to amuse him more. His eyebrows lifted slightly, a smirk forming. “Oh? Are you… ticklish?” His voice dipped into a teasing, almost sing-song tone.

“No!” you said, far too quickly, trying to pull away. But Suguru, being who he was, only narrowed his eyes, clearly catching on. He reached for you again, his fingers tracing down your sides and grazing over your stomach in that deliberately light, maddening way.

Your resolve shattered as you broke into laughter, curling up and trying to fend him off, but he didn’t let up. “stop! Suguru!” you squealed but he just shook his head, a calm smile on his face that only grew as he explored each ticklish spot he’d found.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he pressed a finger into the soft area just below your belly button, sending another surge of giggles spilling from your lips.

“Okay, okay—I’m awake!” You gasped for breath between giggles, but he only chuckled, his hands sliding up to your ribs and grazing beneath your arms, finding new places to torment.

“Hmm… I don’t think you’re quite up yet” he mused, fingers dancing in circles around your underarms, then shifting to press gently into your waist. His hands were skilled and surprisingly gentle, yet each touch seemed perfectly calibrated to make you squirm. The feeling was relentless, like he knew exactly where to go.

“Y-you’re evil !”you managed to choke out through breathless laughter, cheeks flushed as he kept you pinned with his arms. “Suguru, c’mon!”

But his grin only widened as he leaned close, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “I thought you were supposed to be a strong sorcerer but all it takes is a few tickles?”

The teasing note in his voice, paired with the smirk he wore, only made the butterflies in your stomach more insistent. You tried swatting at his hands but he dodged effortlessly, his fingers finding the dip just under your ribs and wriggling there, sending another wave of laughter through you.

“Okay, you win, you win!” you managed to squeal, trying to twist away but trapped under his calm, unyielding hold.

Finally, after one last tickle across your stomach that had you gasping, he pulled back, letting you catch your breath. His expression softened, eyes warm as he looked at you, the playful energy still lingering in his gaze.

“You know, if this is all it takes to get you up in the morning, maybe I should try it more often.” He chuckled, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “Unless you’d rather get up on time?”

You couldn’t hide the exasperated smile that broke across your face. “Not a chance” you muttered but as you met his gaze, there was no mistaking the warmth and amusement shared between you both.