#someone out there is probably going to disagree with me

[randomshyperson]

hello!! I hope you are well. May I add a request to the “touch ask” game? Wanda-Touch-25? Please and thank you. Maybe as a continuation of Wanda and Kryptonian reader?This pairing of my new favourite and you write it so beautifully.

thanks for everything!

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Drabbles

prompt: stroking the other's arm soothingly | words: 1123 | warnings: fluff, violence (?), previously agreed mind control, some touching but nothing inappropriate (the Avengers would disagree ofc).

-&- 

Kryptonians had indestructible and invulnerable bodies. They were bulletproof, heatproof, or coldproof. You could probably out-strength gods like Thor or radioactive monsters like the Hulk.

But magic? Well, that was different.

Somehow, magic could break through every biological barrier in your body and bring you to your knees.

That was precisely why Natasha Romanoff always had Wanda as your training partner.

"Come on, guys, no slacking off. I want four sequences, everyone." The widow announced with a warning clap, while the entire team groaned in unison. Even the super soldiers present had some difficulty completing the demanding exercises of a black widow. 

You were moving to grab your training gloves for the exercise circuit when Natasha called your name. "Not so fast, little alien. You and Maximoff, mat." 

Wanda smiled contentedly at the same time you sighed in discouragement, just as the team got excited and started whistling. See, you were indestructible. Watching you get your ass kicked every now and then was everyone's favorite pastime there. Ignoring Natasha's smirk as you passed her, you tried to stay positive about the whole thing. At least you were working on your humility with your favorite person in the world. 

"I'll go easy on you." Wanda assured you, already on the mat, hands in a fighting position. You chuckle, imitating her defensive stance, even though it wouldn't make any difference. 

"As if."

Truth be told, you're the one who always goes easy on her. Wanda has the magical advantage, of course, but that's it. If you wanted, you could use your speed to easily immobilize her. But the risk of hurting her small human body - a caution you don't need to take with fellow gods or augmented beings - is too high.

So the most you can guarantee to make her training difficult is to dodge her energy attacks, until she loses her patience and stops acting like a sniper, and starts acting like a real witch.

You stumble gently as you feel the familiar invasion. It's like being intoxicated. Wanda is always gentle when she does this. She's learned to hone her mind control very well, without having to reduce her opponents to babbling versions of pure panic. Now, she can enchant them like a mermaid, or perhaps, she only chooses to do it this way with you.

The gym around you becomes a little blurry, and all you see clearly is her, smiling victoriously at you.

"Ready to call it a defeat? Or do you want me to kick your ass a little longer?" She teases as she takes slow steps towards you. It's an illusion, of course, you're sure she hasn't even moved a muscle in reality, and all of this shouldn't have taken more than a second.

You chuckle weakly. This kind of thing has been getting more and more dangerous. Keeping secrets from someone who occasionally plays with your mind is very difficult. Wanda taught you to stay calm in these situations, but all you can do is remind yourself that you're keeping your feelings buried, away from her, and you start to despair.

She notices your anxiety, and the confidence disappears from her expression.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asks, maybe this time, her footsteps towards you were real. You're panicked enough that you can't tell the difference.

Freaking out during a mind control is stupid. And even worse for someone who has powers like yours. Wanda gets close enough to touch your face, and you remember last week when you accidentally saw too much skin when she changed clothes in your room. The shame and guilt return, and you pull away, terrified that she will be able to see that memory.

Your panic in that vulnerable state stimulates your powers, and Wanda exclaims in surprise when the beam of your heat vision advances and grazes near her head. Her fright interrupts the magic, and your release is immediate when Wanda hits your shoulder with a strong magical expel, which throws you about three steps back.

Natasha crosses her arms in disapproval and all the Avengers are looking at you two, while a new hole in the ceiling of the academy appears.

"What the hell you two! What did I tell you about mind tricks?" The black Widow inquires in disapproval, but Wanda is rushing to your support, concern on her features.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

You interrupt her with "I'm fine, don't worry" forcing a small smile. As you try to lift your torso correctly and raise your arm to touch her, you groan in pain and Wanda's eyes widen, as does the whole team. At the feeling, you end up chuckling a little breathlessly. "Wow, that's... surprising. Looks like you set a new record here, Wands. First person to make me feel muscle pain." The team laughs at the joke, but Wanda isn't very happy about it. Natasha forgets about the scolding because she's too interested in discussing with Steve the progress of the two of you in training, and well, you get too distracted with Wanda caressing your arms in an attempt to ease the pain. 

"Is it really that bad?" She asks with a worried frown. She must be feeling guilty enough not to realize what she's doing - how she’s touching you.

You try not to be so pathetic, it's an innocent gesture, but maybe it's too gentle or too warm to ignore. She strokes your arms soothingly, trying to apologize while murmuring that she's sorry for hitting you. And it only takes a moment longer for Wanda to get distracted with what she was doing - Not that you have any way of knowing that she's starting to notice the strong Kryptonian anatomy a little too much, and how feeling strong arms was the real reason she sighed and shook her head, pushing away thoughts she definitely shouldn't be having about her best friend.

Sharing the same warm pink in her cheeks as you, her hands moved away, and Wanda cleared her throat, trying to hide her own reactions while you hid yours.

"So... do you want to get something to eat? I'm starving."

She chuckles shortly. "You're always starving, darling." She teases, and well, she's right so you can't even argue.

Distracted by each other's presence, you soon lose yourself in small talk as you head toward the kitchen, and neither of you notices Sam or Clint grimacing at the scene they've just witnessed.

"That has to be the gayest thing I've ever seen in my entire life." The falcon grumbled in disbelief.

The hawk next to him massaged his forehead in a frown. "I should have retired already. I would have been less traumatized."

They shake their heads in unison, and then go back to training.

[bludhavents]

As Long as You Know Me

Pairing: Liam Mairi x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: As a child of the rebellion, your birthday failing on Reunification Day stirs up a swarm of emotion. When your friends try to celebrate, Liam comes to your rescue... in his boxers.

Warnings: Grief, parent loss, fem!reader. Little angsty, but lots of fluff included. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Long time no see :) You can send in any requests, sign up to join my tag list, and read my previous works all through my bio, tehe! I have lots more Fourth Wing content on the way. I hope you enjoy, comment for a part 2!

July 1st was an open wound. As a child of the rebellion, it marks the day that I was forced to watch my parents be executed for fighting for a better life. July 1st is the day that Lillian Sorrengail ruined my life.

It’s the day she ironically declared “Reunification Day”, as if she hadn’t torn apart families and orphaned so many children.

July 1st was also the day that I was born. Every year since I turned eleven, my birthday has been tainted by the cruelty of the General and her misguided sense of justice.

This year, my birthday starts with her drunk daughter knocking on my door.

“Take it!” Violet urges, trying to pass me a shot of liquor. I make no move to reach for it. 

Her, Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer are all standing at my door with cheery grins across their faces and dazed looks in their eyes. They don’t have nightmares of watching their parents die. On the worst day of my life, they were probably out celebrating with their families, smiling at the rebels’ defeat. I spent that night alone. I spent it with a cursed mark running up my skin forever. 

“What’s going on?” I stifle a yawn behind my hand, wrapping my blanket tighter around my shoulders as I face them. 

“You’re twenty-one!” Rhiannon’s words slur as she claps me on the shoulder. “Drink up, birthday girl!”

“What time is it?” I blink at them. Ridoc’s smile falls into a line of annoyance quickly. 

“You’re really ruining this, you know?” He chastises. I raise my eyebrows and look across the rest of the faces in front of me, eight eyes watching me with weaning anticipation. Sawyer sways on his feet and I notice the moonlight coming through the hallway window behind him. 

“What time is it?” I ask again, staring at Sorrengail this time. She’s chewing her bottom lip. The shot in her hand is about to pour over the edges.

“It’s midnight,” Rhiannon explains as if it’s obvious. 

“For fuck’s sake,” I complain, running a hand down my face. I move to shut the door, but Ridoc protests, pushing it open and letting himself into my room. The rest follow him without question. My stomach rolls at the smell of booze they bring into the room.

“It smells nice in here,” he compliments, sitting on my bed. I disagree.

“What are you guys doing?” I sigh in frustration. “It’s late. You woke me up.”

There’s a part of me that feels guilty for my lack of enthusiasm at their excitement, but the larger--tired-- part of me is overwhelmingly disappointed by their lack of thoughtfulness. It doesn’t take a lot of tact to refrain from initiating a celebration on the day of someone’s traumatic event. Yet somehow, they still managed to surprise me in the worst way.

Have none of them thought that maybe I wouldn’t want to celebrate my birthday? Have they possibly considered that I didn’t tell them about it for a reason? The mark that swirls up my arm was no secret. They know what today means to me. 

“We’re celebrating. It’s your birthday. Quit whining,” he complains. “What do you want to do? We could still go into town.”

“I want to go to bed.” I lean against my open door frame and stare at my friends who are now scattered across my room. Violet places the shot on my desk before dropping her body on to my chair. Rhiannon has a handle of liquor in her hands and is drinking from the bottle. I cringe. 

“But it’s your birthday,” she whines. 

“Happy birthday,” Sawyer coos, pulling me into a hug. I groan and gently push him back. 

“I appreciate you all, but it’s really late, and I’m tired, and I don’t celebrate my birthday, so I think you guys should take this party elsewhere,” I explain, hoping that my reasoning can make itself known without me having to spell it out. My rebellion relic tingles on my skin. Rhiannon whines loudly and shrieks as she almost drops her bottle of liquor. I cross my eyebrows. 

A loud slam of a door echos down the hallway and I hold my breath, hoping that nobody else has come to join this dreadful birthday party.

“Are you okay?” Liam is in my room immediately, and I feel my shoulders relax slightly. The first thing he does is place a hand on my shoulder, scanning my face for injury and finding none to warrant the pained expression on my face. His eyes starts searching the room wildly before he seems to put the pieces of the scene together himself. “Oh. I heard a scream.”

“Sorry.” Rhiannon frowns. Violet stifles a giggle. My eyes catch the liquid dripping out of the corner of her mouth before she wipes it away with her sleeve.

“Now you can join the party,” Ridoc says from my bed. Liam says nothing.

I step toward him, letting his strong arm loop around my waist and bring me into his side. I let out a deep breath and he pulls me in tighter, the both of us exchanging a thousand words without speaking. 

“What’re you wearing?” Violet asks him, wobbling as she stands from my chair. She stumbles over the edge of my rug as she approaches him, and Sawyer is quick to catch her before she hits the ground. I turn my face into Liam’s side, unable to watch this shit show any longer. He straightens beside me, bringing a hand to cradle the back of my head.

“Are any of you guys sober?” Liam asks. I feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he does. 

“Nope!” Ridoc pops the p and pulls a flask out of his pocket. He tosses it to Liam, who watches it fall to the ground two feet in front of him. “Oops.”

Sawyer has his arm around Violet’s waist, steadying her as she clings onto his shirt for balance. Rhiannon is sprawled on my floor, shoes kicked off, with the bottle to her lips again. Ridoc is now under my covers with his head on my pillow. I grumble.

“What’s going on here?” A new person steps into the drunken circus that has invaded my room and I throw my head back in frustration, not having asked for any of this.

I miss my life ten minutes ago, when I was fast asleep in bed.

“Couldn’t tell you.” I look across Liam and meet Xaden’s eyes. The two of them whisper something back and forth before Xaden nods once and takes a further step into my room. His first stop is the flask on the floor, then the bottle in Rhiannon’s hand, then the now-empty shot glass on my desk. 

“Back to your own rooms, cadets. Be sober by morning, we will be having a discussion about this with Aetos.” He walks toward the door, holding it open with his foot as Sawyer drags Violet out of the room. Liam and I step out of the way, breaking our embrace to give them room to move. I notice Violet’s eyes lingering on the wingleader, but he doesn’t so much as look her way as she’s pulled to her room. Rhiannon leaves next, smiling cluelessly as she carries her shoes in her hands.

“Happy birthday,” she says, throwing her arms around my neck in a hug. Her boots slam against my back and I wince. She leans all of her weight on me and nearly drags me down as she hangs from my neck. I unwrap her from me and she walks out. 

“Love you.” Ridoc slings an arm around my shoulders and tries to guide me out of the room with him. 

“Cadet Gamlyn.” He lets go at the sound of Xaden’s voice. The older boy shuts the door as soon as everyone is out, leaving only myself, Liam, and him. We all breathe out. “What was that all about?”

“They found out it was my birthday. I don’t know if they’ve even put together that it’s the same day,” I answer, not needing to expand on what ‘same day' means to this crowd. Both of the men in front of me were there to watch their loved ones die alongside mine. They understand the storm of grief stirring in my stomach. I sit on the edge of my bed, huffing at the disarray of my comforter.

“You were with them?” Xaden accuses Liam, who moves to sit next to me. 

“No. I came in when I heard someone scream. I thought someone had come in and tried to hurt her or something.” He yawns, and I remember that it’s midnight. He must have been asleep just before he came in. His light hair is tousled on top of his head, and I notice for the first time that he wears only a pair of loose, black boxers. I avert my stare and bite my lip as my face heats at the realization of his muscled legs pressed up against the thin fabric of my nightdress. I swallow hard.

Xaden, on the other hand, is still wearing his training gear. I’m not surprised. I can’t imagine that he’ll be attempting to sleep tonight. Being the son of Fen Riorson makes today a little more complicated. 

He sits in my desk chair and puts his head in his hands, sighing deeply. I lean my head to the side and lay it on Liam’s bare shoulder. His head turns and he presses a soft kiss to my hair, leaving his face to rest there. 

The three of us sit there silently grieving with one another.

I let my mind wander to the birthdays I celebrated before the dreadful day I turned eleven. I remember my father making heart-shaped waffles for breakfast every year and letting me drown them in whipped cream and chocolate syrup. I remember my mother waking me up by climbing into bed with me and kissing my forehead. I remember my last happy birthday with them, when we were all crying from laughter because the bakery spelled almost every word on the cake wrong. When we were all alive.

I think of my mother’s laughter, her loud snorts that would send us all further into a fit of giggles. I think of how my father would always put a hand on his gut when he was really tickled by a joke. I’ll never forget either of their joy, throughout everything. 

I’ll never forget that Lillian Sorrengail robbed me of experiencing that ever again. I’ll never forget that she robbed my future children of their grandparents. I’ll never forget that she had the audacity to grieve for her son and her husband when they died years later, as if she hadn’t inflicted that pain onto so many other families.

My mind flits back to the present when Liam begins rubbing his hand up and down my bicep. I inhale deeply through my nose, trying to ground myself back in reality. The boy beside me smells like citrus and rain, and I breathe it in again. His touch is soft and delicate, such a loving motion that sweeps my heart into a flurry. I sigh into him.

My eyes wander my room, landing on the confiscated liquor Xaden set on my desktop. His large body is still in my tiny chair, but now he’s slumped forward, eyes closed, and breathing deeply. My lips turn upward.

I sit up straight, facing Liam. He looks back at me, his eyes glossy. I feel my heart crack in my chest at the sight, but shove the pain down where I store the rest of today’s feelings. My finger rests on my lips to warn him to stay quiet and he nods, licking his lips. I pull my eyes away from the action and then point to where Xaden is asleep in my chair. A small grin rises on Liam’s mouth and I raise my palm to my mouth, stifling a laugh.

In all the years that I’ve known Xaden Riorson, I’ve never seen him without the crease between his eyebrows and the tension tightening his jaw. Looking at him now, he’s perfectly peaceful. His breaths are even and deep in the too-small chair. His skin is free from any stress lines. His lips are slightly parted and his hair is hanging loosely. Gentle snores fall from his mouth.

I draw my eyes back to Liam to see him sitting back on his hands and staring at the rare sight, too. In this position, every muscle in his upper body is perfectly displayed. His forearms, biceps, shoulders, chest, abs. I drag my eyes up his body and back to his pretty face.

“Do you want to sleep in here, too?” I offer to him in a whisper. We both know that, despite my wandering eyes, I’m offering because of the pain we are both going to be in once we’re alone. It’s easier to ride the grief out together. He nods once and adjusts himself on my bed.

Now, he’s sitting up straight against my headboard, legs extended out. He holds my gaze and shoots me a boyish grin as he kicks his feet into my lap. The look on his face is enough to seize my thoughts for a moment, and I have to blink to regain my senses.

With a roll of my eyes, I lift his legs off of me. I slide my throw blanket off of my shoulders and move across the room, draping it gently over Xaden’s body. I move back to the bed quietly, where I grab the top corners of my comforter and pull them up with me as I scoot to where Liam is perched at the head of the mattress. We sit shoulder-to-shoulder. I gather the material of the comforter and pull it over our laps. 

“Should we move him?” His voice is loud enough for me to hear, but low enough that the sleeping boy couldn’t hear it from across the square room. 

“I don’t think so.” I match his quiet tone. “He needs the sleep. If we wake him up he’s just going to leave. I think it’s best for him to be with us.”

“You’re very thoughtful,” he praises, and my stomach flutters. Liam Mairi has always been a kind boy. For him to be kind under the covers with me in his boxers was a whole new experience, though, and it was one I hoped to find myself in again as soon as possible.

His toned stomach is expanding and deflating so hypnotically that I find my lips parting as I watch helplessly. My eyes drift to the trail of hair that begins below his navel and continues into the waistband of his bottoms.

“What’re you thinking about?”

My face heats as I tear my eyes away from his body and meet his burning gaze, and I shrug. 

“I’m a little rubbed the wrong way by my impromptu birthday party,” I supplement instead of revealing my actual thoughts. He lifts his arm from next to mine and drapes it around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him until my head is resting on his chest again. I adjust my legs on the bed and let myself get comfortable against his solid wall of muscle.

“I’m sorry. I get it. Do you remember that guy who tried to kill me during our first training fight?” I nod against his chest, tracing lazy circles along his skin with the tip of my index finger. “Well I kept an eye on him after that. He fought four other people, and only tried to kill the ones with rebellion relics.”

“Oh, Liam.” I turn my head to look at him and find his soft blue eyes looking toward Xaden’s sleeping form. “I’m so sorry. I wish things were different.”

“Me too. It’s just hard whenever we have to deal with things like that and our friends don’t. They probably don’t even realize what today means for us, because they’ve been celebrating it for so long without having to think about what we went through on the other side.” He shrugs his arm off my shoulder and moves it up and down the back of my night dress, making me shiver. It feels like the heat of his touch is burning right through the fabric and into my skin. I have to remind myself to breathe.

We sit like that in silence for a few minutes until he speaks again. “Can I turn the light off?”

I nod, holding back a groan when he moves his body away from mine and leaves me in my bed that suddenly feels too big without him. His footsteps are quiet as he moves across the room and flicks the switch. I lift the blanket up for him and he laughs softly, sliding in and laying his head on my pillow. He extends his arm for me to lay on, and I do, resting my head where his shoulder and bicep meet. 

“Thank you for staying.” I’m staring at him under the faint moonlight that’s coming through the window. The shadow of his full lips curves upward as a grin stretches across his face charmingly. My chest flutters. His blue eyes flick to mine. 

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think my first night spent with you would include my brother sleeping in your chair, but I guess it’s still pretty nice,” he teases with a wink. It takes all my strength to contain the bark of laughter that threatens to escape at his sudden boldness. A breathy chuckle leaves me instead, fanning over his freckled skin. 

“Are you saying you’ve thought about spending the night with me, Liam?” I fiend upset, pushing myself up with the hand on his chest so that my face is hovering over his. “I’m shocked.”

“Oh please.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, moving his hand along my head until it reaches the back of my neck and stays there. My eyes flick down to his strong arm flexed beneath me before I can stop myself, and his smile widens impossibly. “You know every guy in this wing has thought about spending a night here with you.”

“What?” I furrow my brows. “Are there other guys in this wing? Could’ve fooled me.”

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into my heart where it twists itself into nervous ropes.

Liam and I have had an undeniable chemistry for as long as I can remember, but I’ve always been too afraid to act on it. His friendship meant too much to me, and I didn’t want to risk pursuing something that might cost me that. Now though, with his hand on my neck and his bare skin on my sheets, I find myself willing to risk anything to have this. I pull my eyes away from his lips only to find him staring at mine. 

“The boys of Fourth Wing will be very sad to know that their fantasy girl doesn’t even know they exist.” He wets his lips with his tongue and meets my eyes with a mischievous smirk. “I don’t feel bad for them, though. As long as you know me that’s all that matters.”

The hand on the back of my neck draws me closer, slowly, giving me time to protest. Instead, I meet his eyes and nod once. The smirk that graces his lips is enough to send me into overdrive. Liam parts his lips beneath me and I pause, only centimeters away, inhaling his exhales. His large nose turns as he moves to close the distance between us. My eyes flutter shut.

A loud crash comes from across the room to interrupt our moment, and Liam wraps both of his arms around me immediately, pinning me to the curve of his neck and protecting my head with his free arm.

There’s a passing moment of silence before a pained groan follows, and then Liam is laughing loudly under me. He takes his hands off of me and throws his head back against the pillow in an uncontrollable fit of giggles. 

“Shut up,” Xaden moans into the darkness.

I swing my legs off of the mattress and hurry to the lightswitch, but trip and fall halfway there. Xaden and I both groan in unison, and Liam’s laughter only grows louder and more humored.

The loud sound came from Xaden crashing to the ground along with my now-broken chair.

A rough hand shoves my shoulder and I roll off of him, cursing under my breath. Landing on top of him was far more painful than I would have expected. I lay on the floor beside him and laugh shortly.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask over the chuckles in the background. Xaden grunts in response. “How did my chair break?”

“Stop asking me questions,” he grumbles. “I’ll get you a new chair for your birthday.”

I laugh again at that. 

He sits up on the floor and runs his hand through his messy hair. Liam manages to navigate his way to the lightswitch without tripping over one of us, and as soon as the bulb flicks on, all three of us are closing our eyes and mumbling our protests. 

“Neither of you are wearing enough clothes for me,” the older boy complains as he adjusts to the light, throwing the blanket I left on his sleeping shoulders at me. His attention turns to Liam, narrowing his eyes as he looks up at him. “What’re you still doing here anyway?”

“I wasn’t gonna leave her alone in here with you snoring like that. Someone had to cover her ears so that she could sleep,” he deflects, moving to sit on the edge of my bed. Xaden rolls his eyes so hard that I wonder if it hurts. 

“I don’t even remember falling asleep.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and yawns. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable. “Thanks for letting me sleep.”

“You’re always welcome to stay here. Once I get a new chair, I mean,” I tease him. 

[squiddy-god]

Gonna start this by saying I love lads and that I WILL continue to write more for it and take request but-

Lads is genuinely like the only fandom I'm like legitimately on the fence about writing for, because I write gn readers and that Carries to how I'd write a gn mc and especially because I write alot of male readers and hence would love to write male mc for the like... 6 guys out there who play lads...

But like the lads fandom can literally be so fucking hateful like- I'm sorry but it's a game, and also I get as an otome game it is obviously catered twords straight women, and likely will never get a male mc option but like that is not an excuse to hate?

Like men and nb folks play this game too lmao?

And people always go on and on about how people should just find a different game but like???

A) someone shouldn't have to find a different game just cause you personally have an issue

B) WHAT GAMES??? GENUINELY BE SO FR

I cannot stress enough how there is not a substitute. Like lads has such incredible and high quality game play and story telling, it's balanced, the gatcha system isn't actually trash (love obey me but come on) and the character customisation is just a++++

There isn't a game like that even for straight men but much less as a gay/bi guy. Like the best you are getting is a visual novel but I cannot customise that yk?

Genuinely it would take away literally nothing from the game. It wouldn't make the game any less "for you" genuinely.

And like I know it probably 99.99% won't happen but like a man can dream!!!

Like I really don't get it. And I haven't seen a single good argument because they all boil down to "it's a girls game/catered twords girls" and like ok? This wouldn't take anything away from that??? Genuinely.

But frankly whether you agree or disagree, or hope or not, is it really necessary to be hateful about it?? Like to the point it starts to become genuinely crossing into bigotry, homophobia, and transphobia territory??

Feel like this post will have me on public evacuation notice but- hopefully it's just brain dead tiktok spaces but I'm so tired man.

I'm tired because this is literally nothing new. Men and nd people have always played otome games and similar games and just subbed in the pronouns, they have always done the same with fandom and you know what? They always will. There is nothing wrong with that and there is no reason to make spaces so hostile.

[old-school-butch]

So many arguments... on the big picture I'm trying to tell you that you are conflating human rights with things you want. In a society, people aren't going to believe in the same things. I don't believe in a soul, much less a gender soul, and yet I co-exist in a society with people who definitely thing my soul is in peril for being gay, and people who think I'm a fascist (and apparently anti-semite) for not believing in their gender ideas. How do you live together? For starters, you've only responded to parts of my post that you disagree with. Try a little more to acknowledge partial agreement. Even if someone agrees with you 50%, or even 20%, that gives you some allies, something to work with, ways to make peace. In the areas where you disagree, you can argue your rights are more fundamental and therefore supercede the rights of others, but you aren't going to get everything you want at the expense of everyone else.

Let's look at your list:

rights such as not being kicked out of our jobs for being trans <-- I 100% agree, as stated initially

not being kicked out of our homes because our parents beat us to "correct" <-- 100% agree, shelters should be available to help in this situation.

ban conversion therapy <-- 50% agree, conversion therapy and affirmation therapy are both bizarre distortions of what therapy is supposed to accomplish

access to HRT <-- 80% agree, I disagree when this refers to minors and I don't agree that the public should pay for it. I'm open to private health care plans and individuals doing whatever they want.

access to recognition <--- what does that even mean? How is 'recognition' a human right? Give me other examples of how 'recognition' is needed for other groups?

access to spaces where we always belong <-- again, what does that even mean?

For the sake of brevity, let's pick one of several points to discuss

"What is forcing? someone saying "please call me by her pronouns I don't feel comfortable with him pronouns" damn this is forcing for you?" <-- no, that's a request. I don't mind that. But I probably won't, so then what?

What happens if I refuse? I know people who've been fired or disciplined at their work for this, even for doing it in private conversations. I know people who've been investigated by the police for 'hate speech' for this. This is also grounds for being perma-banned from multiple social media platforms, which is maybe why you think 'no one has a problem with it. On a broader scale, this has been turned into official policy where non-compliance is punished in the workplace. This is true in media outlets, data collection processes, and more. For example if I'm a researcher collecting data about crimes, every crime committed by a man who identifies as a woman is counted a a female crime, and protesting this could cost me my career. A teacher who refuses to use someone's gender-based pronouns can be disciplined. That's what I mean by using institutional power to force compliance with this ideology and that, by the way, is why I make comparisons to authoritarianism - because it's overreach. Do you support this? What do YOU think should happen to someone who doesn't use the pronouns you want?

I'm comparing you to extremists because I don't see any recognition that other people also have rights that might mean you don't get what you want. Am I wrong? Is there anything you don't support about trans activists so far, anything you think is overreach? You said "What they give is almost nothing, but honestly it was at least something" - so... what else would you like to see?

Letter from a radical feminist to trans people

Feminists have tried to sound the alarm about trans overreach and how it harms women, and we've been attacked and ignored by the left as a result. However, the issue leaked into the broader society and normies - who are only vaguely aware of these issues - have turned to conservatives to lead the push back. However, conservatives are not opposed to gender ideology, they just have their own version and want to impose it on everyone.

Feminists stand against gender ideology of both stripes.

Protecting women's rights is important, and sex-based segregation in places like prisons, washrooms and change rooms is vital for women's protection.

Protecting women and girls participating in female only sports is necessary and fair.

Banning trans people from the military is unacceptable discrimination. Some military units are sex-segregated (sometimes just in the barracks and in training at other times), but your gender identity doesn't affect your ability to serve your country. Your sex-segregated unit can handle a little more diversity in the ranks.

Forcing people to wear uniforms based on their sex is sex-based discrimination. If there are optional uniforms available, they should be available to everyone.

If someone wants to legally change their name, that's their right.

If an adult wants to medically alter their bodies and can find a doctor to do so, that's their right.

If someone wants to add a notation that they are trans to their ID, that's their right - because your ID is meant to help people identify you accurately.

If someone wants to ask people to use specific pronouns, that's their right too. If other people decline to do so, that's also their right.

Government agencies don't need to enforce gender ideology - not the trans version or the conservative version. Government needs to protect the rights of women and of minorities and let society function in all its chaotic diversity.

The secret to a civil society isn't about getting everyone to agree with each other, it's about learning how to get along when you disagree.

Gender identity is no different than any other religion - it doesn't matter if we personally agree with it, we should still defend it against government overreach.

I know this is a tricky conversation to have, but I couldn't let this go unsaid.

[atwas-gaming]

I've had a scenario in mind for a while now about what it would take for Sonic to finally own up to his feelings about Amy. And I think what it would take is...

Shadow.

Well, just plain jealousy and a fear of losing Amy before he even has her. But Shadow would be the best one to instigate it.

First, some headcanons about how they behave romantically:

Amy's maturing and spreading her wings. She's not moving on from Sonic, not really, but it's possible that she's starting to notice other guys. There's some hints in the Twitter takeovers that she may be developing some small interest in Shadow.

Sonic is clearly interested in Amy, and if you pay attention, he has been for a long time. What he's not interested in is marriage- at least, not yet. And Amy is clearly wifey material- she cooks, she takes care of people, she has a caring nature, she's protective, and she's extremely loyal. She's not someone you can use for a one-night stand, you take all of her or you risk shattering her into pieces. She's Sonic's friend, no matter what else he may feel about her, so he avoids any romantic interaction because he doesn't want to hurt his friend.

Meanwhile, Shadow is... not aro-ace, per se, I don't know what you'd call him. He can see that Amy is attractive, but so is Rouge, and Shadow has no interest in Rouge. He just isn't interested in the physical side of romance.

What I think it would take to get Shadow's attention is something deeper, an emotional or spiritual connection.

So here's the Sonamy/Shadamy love triangle scenario that I came up with:

As Amy ages, she feels her desire for male companionship growing stronger. Sonic takes little notice of it, but it doesn't escape Shadow's attention.

Somehow or other, Shadow and Amy end up alone together, probably on a mission or something. I haven't figured out the exact circumstances, but they're together for quite a while. Amy loves to talk to people and get to know them, and Shadow has a soft spot for her, so she's able to get him to talk to her about things that he's probably never told anyone before. And he knows she won't tell anyone about them, either, so he feels safe telling her.

At some point, Shadow realizes, she's done it. She's broken through his barriers, and at the same time, she's calmed the storm of emotions that he's had swirling inside him for 50-odd years. He hasn't felt such peace since... no, not even then. This is something else. He's never felt this way before, and he doesn't have the words to describe it, but he's fallen head over heels for her.

This is why he never lets his guard down, even around the people he trusts most. Because if he lets them in, even a little bit, he might let them in too far. ("Can you see all of me, walk into my mystery, step inside and hold on for dear life.")

He loses control of himself and kisses Amy.

And when he lets go, he instantly hates himself, he starts throwing his barriers back up, because... she's crying. She's crying because she liked it, and she wants more of it, but she's still so desperately in love with Sonic, and she's starting to think she'll never get it from him, so she'll accept affection from just about any man, and it's not like Shadow's unattractive, and, and, and...

So Shadow's raw and open and hurting, he knew before he said or did anything that he was going down a dangerous path, but talking to Amy felt so good he didn't want to stop. And he wants to erase what just happened like it never did. But now he has to be the one to comfort Amy, because this was his fault, Amy was just being the kind and compassionate person she always was and Shadow was an idiot for letting it get to him and making more of it than what it was and losing control. So he has to keep his barriers down for just a moment longer, just long enough to hold Amy and tell her it's not her fault, until her tears finally stop.

It leaves Shadow burning with rage, and as soon as he can, he forcefully confronts Sonic (I imagine Shadow slamming Sonic against a wall or a tree and shouting in his face 😝) and basically tells him, "Amy needs attention from a man, she wants that man to be you, but if you can't grow up and do what it takes, then I'll be more than glad to take your place."

Which scares Sonic good and proper. It's bad enough to think that he could lose Amy, anyway, but to lose her to that faker??? And it finally makes him go to Amy and (very, very awkwardly) ask her to be his girlfriend. And... I'll let y'all imagine the rest.

As for Shadow... he, quite understandably, becomes somewhat aloof towards both Sonic and Amy for a long time after that.

But Shadow's immortal, right? And there's other Amy's in the world. He doesn't have to be alone forever.

Oh, and as for why Shadow would confront Sonic instead of just taking Amy for himself: because he respects both Amy and, especially, himself far too much to do that. He knows good and well she will never be able to fully commit to anyone else as long as Sonic is still an option. If Shadow was to start dating her, she'd go along with it, but it would become a power play between him and Sonic to try to "win" Amy's affections. Shadow has no issues with fighting Sonic over just about anything, but when it comes to his own feelings, he won't stoop that low, and he's not about to hurt himself by playing such a game. I also don't think he would view Amy as "a prize to be won."

[firefly-suite]

hi and welcome to tdp callbacks that would actually send me

"if i am the king then you have to let me go"

"i'm corvus, i was specifically requested"

"i don't believe in locks"

"haha nice one callum, he deserves it"

"lady justice came to me in a dream"

"don't get yourself killed."

"strength isn't always about weapons"

"shhh, nobody likes a noisy mage"

"tell me she wasn't your world"

"you're just like your grandmother"

"she’s not my friend, she is my prisoner"

"rickety snickers"

"wasn’t the horse~"

"i am a storm dragon. i certainly hope it's working."

"in the name of love, you may perform acts so unforgivable… you will never forgive yourself."

"we could travel the countryside and try the seven cakes of xadia!"

"i am prepared to do anything to protect the king. anything. i hope you will understand"

"i guess it wouldn't be the first time i accidentally on purpose ruined a super rare magical artifact."

"don't do this. i will kill you" "probably"

"anyone know any adventuring songs?"

"we can find more practical uses for this one"

"well, i think about it like this, why see myself as chained down, when i can be chained up?" "i admire your tenacity"

"just the three of us"

"watch, he'll come back reciting an epic poem about his adventuring. he's probably late because he's stuck thinking of a rhyme for 'legendary heroics.'"

"the world just isn't ready for what we have. "

"i have been doing research!" "yes, i can see that"

"i do not understand girls"

"i thought you disapproved" "i disagree. but i stand by you anyway"

"you know what? in a few years, when you’re older, buddy, we’ll sit down and have a heart-to-heart talk about sandwiches."

"i would rather die a king, than live as a coward."

"edge-frazzled"

"soren is a doof but he's my doof!"

"it doesn't matter what happens to me. live or die, this dragon goes home."

"the kingdom of duren has been suffering from a terrible famine for nearly seven years. "

"you big dumb human."

"even if you were wearing the rarest legendary armor, forged by sunfire elves... super dead."

"fool me once, shame on you. fool me twice, shame on me. fool me three times, back to you again." "that's not how it goes." "shame on you."

[wearysauce]

absolutely baffling to me that things like r/systemscringe exists where they target people who have probably been through a lot to develop a system (be that trauma or not)

not to mention, them going through a stranger's information to spot them 'faking' is... probably not good for their own mental health

[mikalilys]

Unfortunately my brain can’t tell the difference between disagreeing with someone and killing their entire family.

[lacewise]

YouTube comments remain a cesspool.

[thedevotionaltour]

im so allergic to miller man without fear the only reason i haven't actually killed that man for writing that story is due to not being 616 canon (no matter how hard some writers push). what if every character was characterized bad and it brought absolutely nothing to the table

[arovalentines]

this is petty n most likely an issue of ive just been exposed to entirely different shit but those posts about how people complaining about redemption arcs is bad bc its important message that people can change is just completely ignoring why people are actually complaining cause the big two examples i can think of for why people complain about redemptions are 1. the redemption is poorly written n ignores and/or retcons the previous seriousness of their wrongdoings just because the writer(s) want them to be good now n its kind of hard to do that if (for example) we take the lives they intentionally n mercilessly killed into account and 2. this character is an abuser but instead of taking accountability n bare minimum apologizing n letting their victim(s) choose whether they wish to still have them in their life the writer(s) choose a narrative where the abuser doesnt really have to change as a person they just dont abuse anyone anymore n the framing is weirdly unsympathetic to their victim(s)

[radellama]

Picky but.. when watching a docco/docco style video, while it can be interesting to hear about how you ended up in contact with certain relevant people, or how there were plans to contact people that fell through, or that you couldn't get in contact with them... I hate when the filmmaker harps on and on about their 'investigative' process and try to dramatise it.

Sorry but. I don't really want a 15-20+ min detour of you lamenting over trying to get in contact with certain people when all that's happened is you sent an email and didn't get a reply.

[carpe-mamilia]

Sorry @buttonhouseparty, I thought all your tags perfectly encapsulated what I thought when I first saw this post so I'm putting them here:

#hasn't it always been like this though? I feel like we've had this conversation ever since the beginning #obv I love the captain. but the fandom has always emphasised him heavily over other characters #even ben said that it surprised him how much the story resonated with fans #(alison is literally the main character and she gets less attention) #and since the start there's been the critique that the fandom never talks about anyone else #with the response always: well. you talk about other characters then. you create the content you want to see. #however the reasonable answer to that is #why bother to do that when you know other fans won't be interested + won't engage with it #I've always felt like: I absolutely hear that critique and I do understand the captain bias is annoying + potentially problematic #but people do fandom for fun and they're just going to focus on their fave #it puts me in the odd position of feeling like I'm 'contributing to the problem' whenever I reblog #and it makes me feel vaguely guilty for not enjoying the show in the right way

[...] #also I'm here as a comedy fan so I'm not very interested in doing deep dives on the characters' trauma #I like a bit of angst but I also like a compilation video of captain noises #I mean I'll reblog cap ship fanart #I love to see it and I like doing my part in sharing around other people's creative work #but I also adore a post discussing the idiots' writing and influences #but that's not what this fandom loves to do so I don't expect to see many posts like that

#AND I think many fans were deeply disappointed by the xmas finale and have wandered off to other things #the ppl who are still here are still enjoying shipping and sharing pics of ben looking hot #which is fine. that's a fun hobby! but I get that it's far from satisfactory for the whole ghosts community #anyway yeah. we've argued this one to death over the past five years and it just makes everyone fall out. I don't know what the answer is

controversial take but being a longtime ghosts fan over the past few months has just been watching the captain become increasingly more prevalent in tags and fan content to the point where almost no other character’s stories or personalities are explored and usually if they are, it’s in relation to the captain.

I’m gay, a lesbian, and the amount of fanbases I’ve seen fall to mostly straight women and become a whirlpool of one white, conventionally attractive gay man played by a straight man has been so disappointing. the captain is not the only character in ghosts. he is not the deepest or most tragic character in ghosts. it is a found family themed show. we, gay people, do not exist as tragic entertainment to be fetishised. the women in this show are rarely mentioned in comparison to the captain, Kitty had multiple scenes about her abusive sister, is implied to come from a horrific colonialist background and basically came out as asexual in season 5 and nobody talked about it, Mary died in a way that was so horrific they didn’t even show it on camera but havers had five minutes of screen time and he is everything now, apparently.

it’s to the point where you can’t escape it, no matter what tags related to the show you do or don’t follow. I’ve seen it before with the way the good omens fanbase changed from people who respected this incredible story criticising blind faith in religion with queer characters that inherently further that message into people calling them “uwu husbands” or whatever.

I’m not particularly angry, I’m just sad to see that the internet has turned into this again. I love the captain. I love ben, he’s a fantastic actor that I grew up admiring!!! but the captain is not the entire show and I think we need to think about why he takes up like. 85% of fan works.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Disney princess Danny

It’s known that animals can sense death. Instances where pets gravitate to someone on their death bed and dogs barking at ghosts. Danny already knew this from before he half died, so he was expecting animals to rat him out with their sixth sense or become aggressive or cower from him. Instead, they all behaved the complete opposite than he anticipated.

Stray cats come running to rub against his legs, dogs nearly pull arms out of their owners sockets to get close to him, birds bring him trinkets, raccoons lead him to trash cans full of food, and even squirrels and rats get close to just sit on his shoulders. It’s… weird, but not unwelcome. He always loved animals.

Danny had come to semi-trust the animals that come to him. They know where the good food is and drinking water, they know when to steer away from a certain area right before something happens, and they always know when a person is bad or okay. So when an animal leads him somewhere, he follows. Sometimes they need help and he’s the one they go to. He’s helped plenty of raccoons out of garbage bins and cats out of gutters to have a good relationship with the animals of the streets.

What he isn’t expecting is to be led to Robin again and again.

The first time it was a cat. A mangy old Tom cat that rubbed against his torn up jeans and looked back with - Danny swears- a raised eyebrow. Danny follows and soon enough he finds himself standing a few paces away from Robin who is kneeling down to give clean water to the momma cat and her three kittens.

Robin freezes and so does Danny. They stare at each other.

“Um, hi?”

Robin straightens immediately, leaving the water on the ground where the cats can drink. Tom cat swaggers over to guard them.

“Civilian. Is there something I can assist you with?”

The dude is probably a year or two younger than Danny himself and he has to suppress a smile at the formal tone.

“Oh, uh, no? The cat just led me here.”

He can see Robin glance at the Tom cat who was now licking himself.

“Is that so?”

“Yea. Sorry to interrupt. Animals just like me for some reason.”

The three kittens one by one all totter over to him on unsteady legs after they had their fill. The orange one starts trying to climb his pant leg with its short and sharp claws digging into the jean material.

“They really like me.”

He carefully sits down crossed legged so the others could also climb all over him. Robin watches for a moment silently and when he sees Danny react well to the little pricks from tiny claws, he seems it safe enough to return to patrol.

The second time it’s a couple of rats that lure him away to find Robin fighting off more thugs than he probably should by himself. So taking the rats’ movements as encouragement, he takes the closest thing, a piece of plywood, and hit the nearest guy over the head with it. The guy crumbles like a wet sock and Danny is moving on to the next thug.

They sweep the floor with these guys with only a few splinters and a twisted ankle.

“It was dangerous to intervene,” Robin tells him. “I had it handled.”

“Yea, I know.”

The vigilante didn’t seem to be expecting that response from his stunned silence. He straightens as much as he can with bruised ribs.

“Well, I’m glad you know your mistake. Don’t let it happen again.”

Danny neither agrees nor disagrees, just shrugs and allow the rats to climb up his leg to his shoulder. Robin looks at them curiously. Danny gives a salute before leaving. Robin gives him a nod.

The third time it happened the roles are reversed.

Some people from the local gang are bullying the lonely, homeless teen to run drugs for them. They don’t seem to understand the word ‘no’. It gets to the point where Danny finds himself with his back against the wall and all his exits blocked with a guy shoving him again and again.

“Stop it!”

“I’ll stop if you agree.”

“I’m not doing it!”

Frank the raccoon and his buddy Bobby launch themselves at the guy’s ankles. The guy shrieks and pulls a gun.

“No!”

Before Danny can dive for it, a projectile comes out of nowhere to knock it out of his hands. He can’t even process what happened before the three are running away, two raccoons chattering at their heels before coming back to crowd him in worry.

Danny looks up to see Robin with a sword out threateningly, staring at where the three fled. He sheaths the sword after a few seconds.

“Are you okay?”

Danny realizes he’s breathing a little heavy and slows down a bit as he leans over to pet the top of the two heads.

“I’m- yea, I’m okay. Thanks for the save. Those guys were jerks.”

“I’m inclined to agree.”

Robin is staring at the raccoons and it takes Danny a long moment to piece things together.

“Did- did they lead you to me?”

Robin doesn’t answer right away.

“You have loyal friends.”

Danny smiles at the weird compliment. Looking down at the two heroes of the evening Danny is also inclined to agree.

The fourth time is funny in a way Danny doesn’t know how to describe.

It was the pigeons. They were at fault of course for how Robin’s secret identity was outed. By pigeons.

The grey birds swarmed Danny and settled in a cloud of feathers. One holding something in its beak before plopping it down in his lap like a golden retriever. It flaps off as Danny picks up the obvious wallet clip holding quite a bit of cash and a student ID. The card says Damian Wayne from Gotham Academy. Just then Robin comes skidding around the corner, clearly out of breath and freezes.

Danny looks down at the clip in his hand and back up at the vigilante. He looks at the crazy amount of birds around him and again at the vigilante.

Said vigilante straightens and approaches like he called Danny there.

“If I could have that so I could return it to its proper owner.”

He holds out a hand with false arrogance, but Danny can see the nervousness in his stance. Danny looks down one last time before putting the clip in the outstretched hand without a word.

Robin nods once, pockets the ID and money, and immediately leaves.

The fifth time just cements what Danny had already figured out.

He was at the park. Not Ivy’s park of course, the one where people actually like to go. He was helping the squirrels find and hide acorns when he’s nearly knocked over by a massive black dog.

“Titus!”

The end of the Great Dane’s leash is a familiar face. Damian Wayne’s eyes widen in recognition as he finally sees who Titus was so excited to get to.

“Uh-“

Danny has to close his mouth quickly or else the massive tongue on his face would have turned into a French kiss.

“Titus! Heel!”

Danny laughs at the embarrassed blush on the other’s face, obviously not used to his companion going off the rails like this.

“It’s alright. We both know how animals like me.”

Damian narrows his eyes to analyze the teen. Danny wasn’t about to pretend and Damian looked like he was debating whether to follow his lead or not. There was literally no one within hearing distance.

“Have you told anyone?”

Danny thought about redirecting, but thought better of it. He actually liked Robin and what he did.

“Nope. I haven’t and I won’t. I swear.”

Damian tilts his head and then looks down at Titus. He seems to come to a decision before looking back at Danny.

“You’re homeless, are you not?”

Didn’t think they were being that direct but sure.

“Yea?”

“I will pay you in food and shelter to take care of my animals.”

Danny blinks. Then actually considers the offer.

“What kind of animals? How many we talking?”

Damian grins.

The family finds out pretty quickly when a teen they’ve never seen before walks into the Batcave with two pails of food for the bats, Titus at his heels and Alfred the cat perched contently on his shoulders.

Duke stares and Bruce short circuits.

“Um, who are you?”

“Hi! I’m Danny. Damian employed me to take care of the animals.”

“O…kay?”

“And where is Damian?” Bruce sounds like it physically hurts to ask and Danny does not envy Damian’s position right now.

“Upstairs. I think he said he was going to his art studio.”

Bruce marches past the boy to the stairs before stopping abruptly and turning to Danny and Duke.

“Don’t touch anything. Watch him.”

Duke and Danny blink at each other for a moment as Bruce disappears up the stairs.

“I’m Duke by the way.”

Danny grins.

[void-my-warranty]

Ghost Lets You Help (18+)

Pairing: Simon Riley/Fem Reader/Johnny MacTavish Content Warnings: Oral (m-receiving), nutting onto partner’s body, overstimulation, she/her Reader, Reader’s hair is long enough to be gripped in someone’s hand Word Count: 3.4k

Service Dog Johnny Part 15 (full part list here)

“How often do you jerk off?”

Your boyfriend’s fingers halt their up and down movement across your lower back, and you quickly tack on, “You don’t have to answer that, I’m just nosy, and I like you a lot.”

Simon huffs in amusement. “At home, or when I’m working?”

“At home, I guess.”

“Ehh… Just about every day.”

Your mouth pops open in surprise, because you don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. He’s with you nearly every minute when you’re both home, and he’s certainly never given any indication of needing to sneak off to take care of something. 

But really, is it that surprising? You know first hand that he’s quite functional.

“Hmm,” you reply finally. “You’re a really interesting person.”

“It’s not that interesting.”

“Mmm… disagree. I have way more questions now.”

He turns his head to get a look at you, resting in bed with your cheek smushed into the crook of his shoulder. “Like what?”

��Like… have you jerked off today?”

“No.” His hand begins to move again, steadily smoothing against the worn fabric of your sleep shirt. 

“Would you ever want… help?” You ask casually, smiling at him. “Just like, for fun. Like a quick, wham bam… here’s my hand.”

You expect him to laugh at your little joke, but instead Simon makes that grumble in his throat that means he’s uncomfortable, and stares up at the shadowy ceiling. “It’s… ahh. It’s not easy… well, it’s a problem, having things done, sort of, to me.”

“Gotcha, okay.” Your reassurance is automatic, but you still lay there against his side for a minute with your heart clenching, wishing the worst things the world has to offer on whoever caused this. 

You know you should probably end the conversation there and not push him, but you can’t help asking, “What about if you were controlling it? No pressure of course, I’m just troubleshooting. Do you think it would be easier if you were the one just like… fucking my mouth?”

 He takes a deep breath and slides his free hand down his face, like he’s really considering it. “Maybe.”

You contain your smile to a mere tenth of what it wants to be, and add, “Well, if you ever feel like experimenting, I would really, really like to do that. And you know we could stop whenever you need.”

“You’d want to do that?” He finally glances at you, frowning slightly like he thinks you’re lying. 

“Yes! Oh my god.” You sit up in your excitement, beaming down at him. “That would be so fun.”

He assesses you like this is all new information to him. Like he never even imagined that you’d be practically creaming yourself at the chance to get him in your mouth, no matter how it happens. You’d absolutely give him that control, you’d let him fuck your face for as long as he wants if it means you get a taste of his pleasure.

“You’d like that,” he muses finally. 

Please, please, god, PLEASE.  

“Mhmm,” you reply with a heavy dose of faux nonchalance, so he’ll feel like he’s allowed to say no. 

His eyes flick to the clock on the nightstand. There’s still some time left before you usually go to bed. 

“Would you do it with the lights off?”

“Of course,” you beam. “I’m up for anything.”

“All the lights,” he reinforces sternly, as if that could possibly matter.

“Baby. You’re gonna get me excited.”

He throws his legs over the side of the bed and stays there for a minute stretching his neck out, while you remain where you are, vibrating with anticipation. Finally he sighs and glances over his shoulder at you. “Suppose you’re allowed to get excited.”

Just like that, it’s settled. 

Gleefully you spring into action to do the necessary bedtime things, scrubbing over your teeth and washing your face. When you meet him back in the bedroom, he’s for some reason staring down at a pillow that’s lying on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

“Err… you’ll be on your knees, yeah? Would a pillow be wobbly, or?…”

This is really happening. 

“Carpet’s fine,” you assure him, scooping up the pillow and tossing it back on the bed. “It’s plenty soft, and also I don’t care.”

“Hmm.”

Ignoring you entirely, he starts stalking around the room, running his fingers over the locks on the windows and unplugging anything with a little glowing light. 

You do the only thing that’s really your job, and strip your clothes off, because surely he’ll want to look a little before the lights go out. And since he’s still meticulously getting the blackout curtains to stay as closed as they can go, you begin to plan the scene.

If he’s going to be the one fucking your mouth, if you aren’t allowed to move at all, you’re going to want something for support. The obvious thing is the bed, so you test it by getting to the floor and slipping your feet into the space under the bed frame. This could work. You have the soft edge of the mattress to lean your back against now, and it’ll be relatively comfy to give a blowjob like this. 

Your mind only focuses back to the present when Simon comes to a stop some paces away, tracing your body with his eyes. 

“Is this okay?” you ask. 

“Mhmm.” His hand comes to rest on the doorknob as his gaze floats up to your face. 

“You locked the front door. I saw.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t move though, and you can practically see him second guessing it through his unfocused expression. He won’t be able to relax unless he knows for sure.

“Go ahead and check,” you concede, “we have time.”

Instantly he’s out the door. You let your head fall back on the bed, smiling to yourself as you rest there for a moment. You stroke your hands down your stomach just to feel the softness of your own skin, and then squeeze your breasts. 

The last person who touched you was Johnny. He’s gone tonight, had to do a nighttime shooting qualification at work, so you won’t see him until hopefully tomorrow. 

What would he think, if he knew this was about to happen? Would he worry about Simon? Maybe feel like you’re pushing him too fast? It was just a couple of days ago that you were biting Johnny’s head off about feeling unwanted, and now you’re experimenting without him again. 

Your hands drop off your body as soon as the door opens. You blink up at your boyfriend who’s now towering over you, a completely different person than he was a few minutes ago.

He must have satisfied every bug in his brain, because the curtains are now the farthest thing from his mind. His eyes are liquid darkness, roving over your bare skin as he reaches behind his neck to strip his shirt over his head. He doesn’t even fold it, just wads it up and tosses it on the bed without a glance.

“You ready?” you ask innocently, shivering a little. 

“Yep.”

“Okay.” Your gaze wanders down to the situation in his pants, and you realize your mistake. “You’re more like, here, aren’t you?” You readjust, getting to your full height on your knees instead of sitting. 

“I think so.”

You put your elbows behind you to prop you up on the bed, and surreptitiously watch him cross the room to turn off the lamp.

Click.

And then it’s real.

The first thing you notice is that he did an excellent job of killing every light. There’s fucking nothing, not even the clock display to orient you to your surroundings. Granted, your eyes haven’t adjusted yet, but it’s basically pitch black, which means he has a good chance of going through with this. 

Which means—

He’s quiet, as he usually is. It’s only his unavoidable weight, and the creak of old floorboards that allows you to sense that he’s come back to you. Your body awakens with the awareness of proximity, excitement and arousal, and for some reason a little bit of fear, which doesn’t seem to diminish the other two. 

Your name comes out of his chest, slow and deep, and right in front of you.

“Yeah, baby,” you whisper, feeling more vulnerable in the darkness, because you can’t anticipate the first place he’ll touch you. 

It’s your chin. His familiar hand finds your face, and then you’ve got a palm holding each of your cheeks. Thumbs you can’t see brush across your temples, careful fingers tuck your hair behind your ears. His hands are steady as they repeat the motion, stroking the edges of your face to pet your hair out of the way. Again. Again. Gentle fingers of a patient man. 

You keep your eyes lifted as if you can see him, relaxing your body and allowing him to tilt your head back a little. Your hair gets methodically gathered into one of his hands, and then held firmly like that, in a way that makes you anticipate getting your mouth filled soon. 

But he releases it, as if he was just testing the option. His hands slip back around to your face, cupping the underside of your jaw and curling around your nape. 

“You're safe,” he tells you, for some reason.

“I know.”

His methodical breathing is all you hear as his thumb sweeps the length of your cheekbone, slowly, like he’s touching something valuable. And his other thumb finds the seam of your lips, coaxing them open with a little pressure. 

You stay soft for him while he pushes that digit past your teeth, keeping your mouth relaxed as he lets it rest on your tongue. You wait like that, letting him feel how warm and pliant your mouth is, just breathing through your nose as he caresses your face in the darkness. What a good girl you are, his thumb seems to say, skimming the tips of your lashes when you blink. So well behaved for me.

He never loses contact, even when his hand retreats from your mouth. He keeps the back of your skull resting in the cradle of his wide palm while he gets himself ready. That soft rustle of fabric shoots a thrill down your spine, has you lifting your chin a little to straighten out your throat. 

Then something warm and a little sticky kisses up against your lips, and the man you love breathes a quiet, “Open.”

Against the blanket, your fingers curl in pleasure while he eases himself into your mouth. He presses just the tip in, and then pulls back out a little, repeating the motion. It’s like he’s sampling the way it feels sliding across your tongue, so you stick it out for him to play with, just past your lower lip. He feels you do that, you can tell by the appreciative breath he lets out. He likes it. He likes picturing you here, patiently waiting with your tongue out, letting him rub his leaking tip up and down it. 

It’s so good. Your eyes drift closed on their own, mentally slipping into the skin of someone who deserves this kind of attention. You take an ungodly amount of pleasure in being toyed with like this — the slow, systematic breaking down of your psyche until all you are is a craving. A bone deep, unending ripple of want that registers your mouth as the natural place for his cock. He gets to come home now, pushing inside you and finding relief in the same act that’s getting you slick between your legs. 

You’re not sure if he does it like this on purpose to get you worked up. You’re not sure that it matters. 

“Show me how deep I can go so it’s still comfortable.” His thumb presses down on your jaw, guiding you to open wider. “This is important to me.”

Oh. Okay. Obediently you reach out and find his thigh with your hand, relaxing your mouth as he begins to push himself inside it. A happy, breathy noise leaves you when you finally feel it the way you’re meant to, finally get your mouth full of that fundamental piece of him. 

He doesn’t pause, just carefully pushes inside until he reaches the line of your gag reflex, and you offer some resistance on his leg to let him know. 

“Fuck, alright. Yeah, alright.” His  breathing is ragged between words. “Christ, you sound so pretty.”

Yeah, you’re too aroused to really hold back at this point. As he begins to slowly thrust into your mouth, you thank him for it with soft, needy throat noises. He keeps one hand around your jaw and feeds you his cock to exactly where you showed him, and it feels divine. 

You're not sure if it’s intentional, but he never fully pulls out. He never gives you a chance to collect yourself or swallow, just keeps filling your mouth until you’re no longer anxious about it ending before you’re ready. You’re dazed and content, drooling around him and communicating exactly how much you’re enjoying yourself, through every soft moan and whimper. Your lips are wet from the mess of spit and precum gathering in your mouth, and you’re getting so turned on that you swear there’s a faint sensation of something dripping down the inner crease of your thigh. 

Maybe you like this a lot. Maybe you enjoy the way your jaw aches with how thick he is. Maybe you’re glad this is lasting a lot longer than the other time, because there’s nothing that compares to getting on your knees for someone who loves you the way he does.  

“Don’t want to— Can I cum on you?”

Like he’s just remembered that you can’t talk with your mouth full, Simon quickly pulls out and stays there, holding your face and catching his breath. 

“Yeah, of course,” you say after a quick swallow. “Maybe don’t get it in my hair if you can help it.”

“I won’t.” 

He gathers your hair again in his shaking hand, and this time he uses it to hold your head steady while he sinks himself all the way to your throat. 

It has you grabbing onto the blanket while you fight back the urge to gag. You just weren’t prepared for that, hadn’t given yourself time to relax into it after he was so insistent earlier about not going too deep. One more thrust and you can’t help the way your throat constricts, the wet sputter you do when you can’t quite accommodate him. 

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, nearly scraping himself on your front teeth in his haste to pull out. “M’sorry. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You lift your hand to his wrist, finding his fingers with yours and wrapping around them to make sure he doesn’t let go of your hair. “You’re alright.”

His voice still has a frantic edge. “Didn’t mean to. That wasn’t on purpose.”

“I know, baby,” you assure him, slow and calm. “Take a breath, we’re okay.”

You’re rewarded with a deep inhale and exhale from somewhere above you. Then a steady, “You’re alright?”

“Yep, I’m doing great.” You sink down the side of the bed, letting your ass rest on your feet, and draping your head back on the edge of the mattress. “And you know what?”

“What?” His fingers shift in your hair, but he doesn’t let go, so you stroke your fingers down to his wrist.

“My tits are really soft,” you tell him, letting your smile warm the words.

There’s only a beat of silence, and then a little amused huff for you. “Are they, now?”

“Mhmm. You can see for yourself, if you want.”

There’s barely a second of hesitation before you hear his knees pop, and then feel that familiar hand tracing down your collarbone to find your breast. “Mmm. You’re right.”

Your evil plan is working. “Check the other one too, just to be sure.”

Simon only stops long enough to do another deep breath, then wraps his hand around your other breast, squeezing it gently. “Yeah. Fuckin’ nice.”

Time to get him what he needs. 

“So I have these nice soft titties right here for you, right? I think you should cum on them.”

His next breath is choppy and delicious, as he runs his fingertips down the swell of your breast and fiddles with your nipple. 

“I think they would look extra pretty,” you purr at him, “with a little decoration.”

His hand leaves your skin then, and the air is so quiet that you can hear him stroking himself with your spit remaining on him. You sigh happily, letting him hold your head out of the way by your hair, so your face won’t get dirty in a minute when he cums. 

“I love your voice,” he whispers. “That little high note you do at the end of a breath, when you’re… like this.”

“Wet?” You playfully whisper back.

“Are you wet, darling?”

Your thighs seem to flex together on their own accord. “Uh huh.” 

The slick sounds pause for a beat, and then he says, “Can I feel?”

Oh, fuck. You’re definitely going to have to get your toy out after this. “Yeah, baby.”

He doesn’t let go of your hair, just reaches down with his free hand to find your thighs. You spread your knees apart on the carpet and marvel at the lack of hesitation, as he runs his fingertips up and down the outside of your pussy. 

“Jesus bloody fucking Christ.”

“I’m having a great time,” you laugh, keeping your hips as still as possible so he remains in control of the contact. 

“You are, aren’t you?” 

“Mmm, yeah.” His fingers are still stroking your soaked pussy, so you turn your head a little to kiss his wrist. “I like this, baby.”

He’s collecting your wetness, you finally realize. He gets his palm nice and slick with it, and then gets back to his feet, and starts jerking off with your arousal. 

You close your eyes and let yourself picture it, how he’s standing now with your knees between his legs. You do your best to push your tits out so they’ll get the bulk of the exterior decorating, and just relax there and let him hear your happy, horny breaths. 

His choked curse is the only warning you get before something warm and sticky hits your chest. You smile to yourself while he works himself through that orgasm, painting you with his pleasure because for some reason he’d rather do this than shoot it down your throat. 

You don’t mind, not really. You’re pretty sure it’s not a humiliation thing for him, and it’s easy enough to get cleaned up afterwards. Once his breathing has started to level out and his grip in your hair loosens, you reach up and swipe a little bit of cum off your breast. In the pitch black, he doesn’t see you suck it off your finger.

His recovery is much better this time. Maybe it’s the fact that you didn’t actually fuck, or maybe it’s because he’s processed the initial hurdle already, but he never goes nonverbal. He ends up wiping you down with his own shirt so the lights can stay off, and then he holds you in his arms while you make yourself cum with your vibrator. 

Simon reaches down to your wrist and encourages you to keep your toy on your clit while you whine and gasp through the overstimulation after your orgasm. He makes you promise not to stop before he releases your hand to play with your nipple. 

“Just a little longer,” he whispers, stroking his thumb over the sensitive point. “I know you can do it.”

He’s right. It only takes a few more minutes before you’re shaking, jerking the toy away and squeezing your thighs together through the rushing in your ears. 

You’re limp after that, a mere jellyfish washed up on the beach. Simon thinks it’s funny, keeps lifting your wrist in the air and then letting it flop to the mattress. He can’t even see it, but finds it entertaining all the same. 

“Simon?” You whisper after a few sleepy kisses.

“Hmm?”

“What do you think about clearing out the spare bedroom, and putting a bed in there for Johnny when he spends the night?”

Your boyfriend tugs affectionately at a lock of your hair. “I think that’s a bloody good idea.”

Next Part

Dividers by the-aesthetics-shop

Chronological Read-Through Path

[sonicboomseason3]

a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:

paramount has come out in public support of israel

keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie

james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile

there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???

kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too

this is a complete and utter joke.

EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]

you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.

i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.

with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.

ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.