#we have to try and pushback

[fly-chicken]

A Pragmatic and surprisingly comforting perspective about the Trump 2nd Presidency from the ACLU

***Apologies if this is how you found out the 2024 election results***

Blacked out part is my name.

I’m not going to let this make me give up. It’s disheartening, and today I will wallow, probably tomorrow too

AND

I will continue to do my part in my community to spread the activism and promote change for the world I want to live in. I want to change the world AND help with the dishes.

And I won’t let an orange pit stain be what stops me from trying to be better.

A link to donate to the ACLU if able and inclined. I know I am

[dunmeshiminimumwage]

back when i worked at [large chain coffee store], i tried to unionize my workplace. my manager sat me down and gave me a very guilt trip-y talk. lots of "but i thought we were a family :(" and "you don't *really* know what unionization does, do you?" i played dumb and managed to avoid being fired, but. chilchuck momence.

[magpie-trove]

Going to make a rare comment on politics. When Padme Amidala said it was all a result of a failure to listen? I think she was right.

[cuntwrap--supreme]

What is it about me that makes old white men think I'm a conservative? I need to know so I can change that.

[qqueenofhades]

Okay all -- few quick thoughts about the Elon Muskifying of the government, especially the takeover of the Treasury and associated financial data for every single US citizen and organization, that we are learning about in detail today.

Don't panic. This sounds bad, because it is bad. It's really, really bad. It's outrageously fascist bad. But we've still gotta take a deep breath and get through it.

This is the kind of shock-and-awe exercise of untrammeled fascist power where they are absolutely counting on gleefully terrorizing, paralyzing, and stunning you into mounting no resistance, or just giving up and giving in. They are literally live-tweeting it in real time and boasting about all the access and influence they have right now. They want you to know about it and feel like you can't do anything, so you might as well let it happen.

We have to show them that's not true.

TIME TO MAKE SOME NOISE. Because it's Sunday night, I've gone ahead and contacted my state Attorney General and both senators by email (but come Monday morning, we should all be calling). Here is the email that I wrote to my AG:

Dear Mr. [AG],

As you will be aware, today (February 2, 2025) the Trump administration has granted wide-ranging access to sensitive US Treasury data, including the personal and private information of [state] citizens, to Elon Musk's so-called "Department of Government Efficiency." Musk is an unelected private citizen who has no legal right to access this data, and is engaging in extensive intimidation and coercion to fulfill his personal and harmful ideological agenda. The present and material harm that this causes to US citizens, [state] residents, and basic laws of government, privacy, and financial security is direct, unconscionable, and actionable. I strongly urge you, in your capacity as [state] Attorney General, to file direct suit against the Trump administration, Elon Musk, the "DOGE" office, and any identifiable individuals who have taken part in this action, in order to protect consumer data, citizen privacy, and basic faith and trust in government.

All the best,

[Qqueenofhades]

Short! To the point! Doesn't waste time, tells him what I want him to do, how Elmo's nonsense directly harms the residents of my state, and why he should take action to stop it! And frankly, given how on-the-ball blue-state AGs have been thus far, they're probably already working on it. You are very welcome to copy-and-paste this message and fill in your AG's last name and your state as appropriate. Super easy to do. Takes five minutes. Call tomorrow.

If you are in a red state, your voice is particularly important right now. The Trumpsters are counting on and are even emboldened by blue state pushback, but you really need to make it start coming from Republican strongholds. Congressional Republicans will only feel the slightest amount of unease about docilely enabling this BS when it starts threatening their own personal power. Hit them where it hurts.

Other lawsuits are coming. Marc Elias, Democratic lawyer extraordinaire, is well aware of this situation and has noted on Bluesky that more lawsuits are in the works. He often wins his cases. This does not mean that you shouldn't loudly make noise elsewhere, but please remember that this is one of those 24-hour periods where, as noted, they are counting on demoralizing you with a nonstop blizzard of bullshit. It does not say anything about how this will play out long-term or the opposition that can and will be mobilized to stop it.

Once again: courage. Take the small steps that you can do today. Then take a breath and get off social media for a little while. Try to take the long view. One step at a time, we will get through this.

Courage.

[audristarzz]

KOSA PASSES SENATE 7/30/24

Kosa has unfortunately passed the Senate on a 91-3 vote. I want this to be clear, It’s not going into effect, it still has to get to the House but I believe there will be a break for the month of August which gives us A WHOLE MONTH!! to call your HOUSE representatives and tell them to vote NO on Kosa. It’s not over yet so many people told their senators and representatives that they didn’t want KOSA. We can do it again, PLEASE do not panic and give up!! I know it’s scary I’m very scared right now myself but if we go silent that’s how it’s going to pass the House and get signed to the president. Let’s try to stop that from happening!!!

Call your house representatives!!!!there is more opposition in the House, we can stop it. BLOW UP THEIR PHONES!! edit: hi everyone!! I’ve made a change to the way I worded this post, I would like to apologize about the confusion I may have caused. When I had meant by “barley passed the Senate” i meant it as a way of saying how so many people voiced their concerns for so long (I first ever found out about Kosa on 7/19/23) which lead it just now getting to the Senate floor for a vote due to the pushback and feedback they had gotten. I apologize if 1. I had confused anyone and 2. If I did not word this right lmao :,) keep calling you’re all doing great!! - audri⭐️

[killerplink]

DISCIPLINE

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Plot: Jason wants you to learn self-defense in case he's not around, but he should've known you'd turn it into a game—batting your lashes, pouting, testing his patience at every step.

Words: 7k

A/N: This one-shot is basically an expanded (and slightly spicier, oops) version of a convo we had a few days ago about Jason teaching his girl self-defense. It spiraled into something much steamier than planned, but honestly... are we surprised? Big thanks to that little idea spark—y'all know who you are 🖤

Jason stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down at you like he's really trying to figure out where he went wrong in life. Because when he said he wanted to teach you self-defense, he expected some pushback. Maybe a little nervousness. Some hesitation. At worst, some stubborn "I don't need to learn that, Jay, you're always with me" bullshit.

What he didn't expect was for your eyes to light up like he just told you he bought you a puppy.

"Can I learn how to stab someone?" you ask, voice soft, excited, like you're asking if you can bake cookies later.

Jason blinks. "What."

You nod, like this is a normal response. "I mean, obviously, I have a taser and bear spray, but I think a knife would be a nice addition, you know?"

He has to take a second to process. "You—you have a what?"

"A taser! And bear spray," you clarify, eyes shining like you're announcing your engagement. "Bear spray is way better than regular pepper spray, so that's why I have that instead. Been itching so bad to use them, but who knew it took eons to get assaulted in Gotham when you actually want to?" you let out a dramatic sigh. "Like, I've been ready for this for years. I am so fucking up the first stupid asshole who wants to try me."

Jason has to take a very deep breath before responding, because he doesn't know whether to be concerned or turned on. Like, he genuinely doesn't know what to do with this information. Because he came into this fully prepared to convince you that learning self-defense was a good idea. He thought maybe you'd be scared, maybe you'd worry about getting hurt.

Which, in hindsight, was fucking stupid.

Because yeah, you're his small, sweet, shy girl, at least 90% of the time. All soft smiles and warm cuddles, curling into his side, acting all innocent. But he should know better. Because you're also a menace. Especially when you're drunk.

And the thing is, alcohol makes you bold as fuck. Your mouth runs without a filter, and somehow, that always ends with either you ready to commit assault over the stupidest shit or getting him in trouble. Like that one time a guy tried to cut in front of you in line at a food truck, and before Jason could even blink, you were calling him a "dickless little piss baby" and offering to fight him over a fucking taco.

So yeah, he should've known.

"Baby," he finally says, rubbing a hand down his face. "You don't get to just manifest gettin' mugged."

You pout, arms crossing tight over your chest like you're trying to physically contain your frustration. "I'm not manifesting it, I just think it'd be fun." 

Jason stares at you, unimpressed. 

"Not fun fun," you amend quickly, eyes darting to his face as you shift on your feet, hands waving as if that'll somehow make your argument more reasonable. "But, like, practical fun. Who doesn't wanna kick some criminal ass?" 

"Jesus Christ," he says, voice dry, incredulous. "Doll, no one just casually waits for an opportunity to fuck someone up." 

Your pout deepens, bottom lip pushing out as you tip your head, batting your lashes. "You do." 

His eyes narrow. "That's different." 

"How?" you take a step closer, blinking up at him, playing up your sweetness like you're not actively trying to convince him to arm you with a knife. 

He groans, tipping his head back like he's asking the universe for strength. "Okay, yeah, no weapons for you." 

"What? Why not?" you whine, stomping your foot just a little, because this is bullshit.

"Because," Jason says, tone final, firm, like he's laying down the law, "I'm not lettin' my girl run around with a blade just waitin' for some dumbass to try her." 

You huff, arms crossing tighter as you glare. "This is so unfair." 

He scoffs, throwing his hands up. "Unfair—you—oh my fuckin' God, no knife trainin' for you and that's it." 

Your jaw drops, scandalized, because how dare he? "Jay—" 

"Fuckin' no," he cuts you off with a sharp look, voice absolute. "You don't get a knife." 

Your lips wobble like you're actually sad about it. "But—"

"Jesus Christ, you're worse than me," he mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing in deep like he's trying to summon the patience of a saint.

Which, let's be real, he doesn't have. Not when it comes to you and your innocent—and very concerning—enthusiasm for fucking people up.

"Baby," he starts, slow and measured, like he's talking to someone who's about to do something really fucking stupid. And honestly, maybe he is. "This is self-defense. Meanin' it's only for when you have no other choice. Got it? You are not—I repeat, not—goin' out of your way to stab someone just because you wanna see how it feels."

You blink up at him, lashes fluttering, mouth curling into the sweetest little pout. "I would never do that."

Jason stares. Stares. Because you're lying. Blatantly.

"You just said you've been waitin' for someone to try and mug you," he points out, voice flat, arms crossing again as he levels you with a look. "That doesn't sound like self-defense, baby. That sounds like premeditation."

You tilt your head, like you totally don't see the problem here. "But Jay—"

"No," he lifts a hand, cutting you off before you can even start with whatever bullshit argument you're about to pull. "No buts. This isn't a game. If someone actually attacks you, you do exactly what I teach you. No extra shit, no tryin' to one up them, and definitely no pullin' weapons just because you feel like it. Understand?"

You nod, but it's too quick, too eager. Too much like you're just saying it so he'll shut up and move on to the part where he actually shows you how to hurt someone.

Jason sighs through his nose, jaw tightening as he gives you a slow once over. "Say it back to me."

You bite your lip, rocking on your heels, playing up the innocence in your eyes. "I will only use self-defense if I absolutely have to," you recite, soft, sweet. "I will not go out of my way to fight someone, no matter how bad I wanna try out my taser—"

Jason groans, tipping his head back. "Jesus Christ."

"—and I will definitely not stab anyone unless I am in mortal danger."

He squints at you. "Are you fuckin' with me right now?"

You clasp your hands behind your back, swaying slightly, still looking up at him like you're the picture of pure intentions.

"No, baby," you say, voice syrupy and so fucking fake, and you can see the muscle in his jaw twitch, the barely contained exasperation tightening his shoulders. "I'm taking this very seriously."

"No," he mutters, rubbing his hand down his face again. "No, you're not."

You step closer, pressing your fingers to his chest, looking up at him through your lashes. "I am," you insist, voice so soft, so sweet. "Don't you trust me?"

Jason's hands drop to his hips, and he leans in, just enough to look you right in the eye. "Not even a little."

He exhales slowly, leveling you with a look that's somewhere between exasperated boyfriend and man barely holding onto his sanity. He doesn't know why the fuck he thought this would go smoothly. You, of all people. You, with your wide, innocent eyes and that suspiciously sweet little voice, who he knows is just itching to cause some kind of bullshit.

He should've seen this coming. Should've known.

Because realistically speaking? You rarely go anywhere without him. It's fucking Gotham, and he's Jason fucking Todd. Which means if you're not with him, you're with someone he trusts—or you're home, where he left you, safe.

Not because he's some controlling asshole who doesn't let you live your life, but because he's been out there. He knows what this city is. Knows how fast things can go from fine to fucked in the blink of an eye.

And not that the freaks here need a reason to attack people only at night anyway—God knows they don't. Broad daylight, rush hour, middle of the fucking street? Doesn't matter. Gotham's got its own fucking rules, and they don't care if you're just trying to grab a coffee or get home from work. But still, he thought it'd be good for you to at least have some self-defense training.

What he didn't think, was that you'd be fucking giddy about the idea of stabbing someone. He drags a hand down his face for what feels like the thousandth time, shoulders tensing as he looks at you again, standing there all sweet and so fucking suspicious.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he mutters, shaking his head.

You just beam at him, rising onto your toes to press a quick kiss to the sharp edge of his jaw. "But I'm cute," you remind him, voice sickly sweet, lips brushing against his skin.

Jason sighs, tilting his head down just as you try to step back, catching your chin between his fingers before you can get away. "Yeah?" he murmurs, eyes flicking between yours, thumb stroking along your jaw. "That supposed to make me forget you just admitted you're impatient to commit a felony?"

Your lips part, your breath warm against his, but you're still smiling, still playing that little game of yours, still batting your lashes like you're the picture of innocence. "Not a felony," you say softly. "Just... an act of self-defense that may or may not get me arrested, depending on the jury."

He groans, dropping his forehead against yours, shaking his head as his hands slide down to your waist.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he mutters, voice rough, full of barely contained affectionate frustration. "You are so lucky I love you."

You giggle, bright and genuine, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing yourself into him like you know exactly what you're doing. "I know," you say, smug and happy, and fuck, he's so fucking gone for you it's ridiculous at this point.

Jason breathes you in, lets his fingers tighten around your waist, and kisses you. A slow, lingering press of his lips, soft enough to make you melt a little, teasing enough to remind you that he's got other ways of distracting you. And maybe he should've just started there instead of pretending this was ever gonna be a serious lesson.

But he pulls back, just enough to murmur, "You done playin', doll?"

You blink up at him, still smiling. "Depends."

Jason squints, lips twitching. "Depends on what?"

"Depends on whether you're actually gonna teach me now, or just keep kissing me until you forget about it."

Jason huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he pulls away, finally taking a step back. "Alright," he says, rolling his shoulders, glancing down at his hands like he's mentally preparing to deal with you. "Let's try to get through a fuckin' lesson, then."

You giggle again, soft and way too pleased, and he already regrets this, because he knows you're gonna try some bullshit the second he gives you an opening. He knows it. Can see it written all over your too sweet expression, the way you're still smiling, still batting your lashes, like you're not already planning your next move.

So he sighs, rolls his shoulders again, and chooses to ignore that for now. Because if he wants to get anywhere with this, he needs to at least get the basics into your head before you start trying to murder him.

"Alright," he starts, keeping his voice even, professional. "This isn't a "how to win a fight" lesson, okay? You're not lookin' to beat someone. You're lookin' to get the fuck away as fast as possible. You with me?"

"Mhmm," you hum, tilting your head, still smiling.

Jason narrows his eyes, but moves on. "Gotham's a shithole. You're not gonna have time to square up and throw a clean punch. So this is about gettin' yourself out of a bad situation before it gets worse. You get grabbed? You break the hold and you run. If they're faster than you? You make sure they regret gettin' close to you in the first place."

You perk up, excited, and Jason almost groans. So fucking predictable.

"So," he continues, pretending he didn't notice, "most common grabs. If someone gets your arm—"

He reaches out, quick but controlled, his fingers circling your wrist in a firm grip. He doesn't squeeze, just holds, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. "What do you do?"

You think for a second, then— "Break their fucking nose?"

Jason lets out a rough chuckle, shaking his head. "Okay, yeah, that's an option, but first? You wanna break the grip. They grab your wrist, you don't pull back. You twist toward their thumb, push through the weak point in their hold."

He loosens his fingers just a little, giving you the chance to practice. You try it, twisting your wrist too quickly, too eager, but Jason keeps his grip light so you actually get the motion right, slipping out of his hold easily.

"Like that?" you ask, looking pleased with yourself.

"Yeah," he nods. "If they grab both wrists, same thing, but you yank up and break out of both at the same time. Quick, before they can adjust their grip. Got it?"

You nod, biting your lip like you're really paying attention, and fuck, Jason has no idea how much of this is actually sticking and how much is just you playing with him. But he moves on, because next is something he needs you to know.

"Okay," he murmurs, voice dropping slightly. "If they go for your throat—"

His hand ghosts up, barely touching, just resting his fingers lightly against your neck, so gentle it's barely pressure at all. But it's enough to make your breath hitch, just slightly, your body going a little still.

Jason watches you carefully, reads every microexpression, every little flicker of something across your face before continuing.

"People fuck this up in movies. You don't try to pull their hands off. You're not gonna be strong enough to break the grip outright, especially not if they're bigger than you."

He flexes his fingers slightly, just enough to demonstrate, to show you what he means before pulling back. "You wanna go for the thumbs. That's the weak point. Both hands, grab their thumbs, push out and down, then duck away. Got it?"

You nod, more serious, something thoughtful in your expression.

"Good," he murmurs, then gestures to your hair. "If they grab your hair—"

"Oh fuck no, I'd simply die," you say, deadpan. "That's my nightmare scenario, Jay."

Jason huffs a laugh. "Yeah, well, let's say you'd rather not die, baby. If they grab it, you don't try to yank away, or you're just helpin' them control you. You grab their wrist, stop them from jerkin' your head around, and you drive your knee into their fuckin' balls until they let go. Got it?"

"Got it," you echo, nodding, biting your lip like you're really thinking about it.

Jason watches you for a second, then takes a step back, flexing his fingers. "Alright," he says. "We're gonna go through these real quick, one by one, get the motion into muscle memory, yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod, lifting your hands a little. "Okay. Ready."

Jason nods, reaches for your wrist again—

And you go straight for his throat. No hesitation. Zero fucking hesitation. You move fast, hands darting up like you're ready to go for his jugular, and Jason barely manages to react in time, catching your wrists before you can dig your fingers into his windpipe.

"Jesus Christ," he barks, startled, holding you back as you giggle, eyes bright, too fucking pleased with yourself. "We are literally practicin' breakin' a wrist grab, and you go for my fuckin' throat?"

"It was open!" you defend, twisting in his grip, trying to move your arms, but Jason just tightens his hold. "Seemed like a good opportunity!"

Jason lets out a long, slow exhale, like he's praying for patience. "You are so fuckin' lucky I love you, I swear to fuckin' God," he mutters.

You just beam at him, but he's determined to get through at least one lesson with you before you either land a dirty hit or he ends up putting you in a fucking time out.

It's a battle though. Because every time he tries to correct your form, show you the right way to get out of a hold, you're already one step ahead—twisting in his grip, shifting your weight, going for some batshit move you absolutely should not be attempting yet. And you do get it right, more than once, your motions smooth and sharp when you actually focus, but the problem is that you never just focus.

It's always followed by something else. Something you shouldn't be doing. Like now.

"Jesus, baby," Jason grunts, dodging just in time as you try, for the millionth fucking time, to go for his balls. "Do you have to aim there every fuckin' time?"

"It's a very effective tactic," you say, so damn pleased with yourself. "It's a vulnerable spot, isn't it? You literally said I should make them regret getting close to me."

"I meant them, pretty girl. Not me."

"You're just in the way," you say, batting your lashes, grinning. "Move, and it won't be your problem."

Jason lets out a sharp huff of laughter, shaking his head. "Y'know what? Fuck this."

Your hands press against his chest, pushing yourself up slightly, but Jason doesn't let you go far—his grip tight, his fingers curling against your lower back, keeping you right where he wants you.

And before you can react, he moves. Quick. Smooth. Controlled. His arm hooks around your waist, the other sweeping your legs clean off the floor, and the next thing you know, you're falling, pulled down with him, but the landing is soft—the plush rug cushioning you as Jason twists, making sure he hits the floor first, his arms caging you close against his chest as you let out a startled little gasp.

He smirks up at you, all slow and lazy, something dark flickering in his eyes, and when he speaks, his voice is warm and rough, low enough to send a thrill down your spine.

"Careful with my balls, baby," he murmurs, the rasp in his voice making your stomach flutter. "I thought you loved gettin' fucked."

Your breath hitches, heat sparking through your veins, and Jason watches the way your lips part, your lashes fluttering as your grip on his chest tightens just slightly.

You let out a soft little giggle, feigning innocence, tilting your head as you trace a slow, teasing line over his collarbone, down to the fabric of his shirt.

"I do," you murmur, pouting a little, "but I'm also very dedicated to my studies, Jay. You wouldn't wanna distract me, would you?"

Jason huffs, his grip tightening for a split second before he shifts, one arm coming up, curling around your back as the other slips down, fingers pressing against your hip as he flips you under him in one smooth motion, his weight pressing you down into the rug.

"Doll," he breathes, tilting his head, his lips so damn close to yours, "I don't think you wanna study right now."

And then he kisses you. Slow. Deep. Messy. His lips part against yours, his tongue licking deep into your mouth, coaxing a sweet little whimper from you as your hands fist into his shirt, pulling him closer.

He kisses like he owns you, mouth hot and searching, tongue sliding over yours with purpose, like he's trying to taste every little gasp you give him. His hand slides up, fingers cupping the top of your head as he tilts it just how he wants it, deepening the kiss until it's all spit and need and heat. You can feel the groan rumble in his chest before it spills into your mouth, vibrating against your lips, low and rough.

Your lips part wider for him, letting him devour you, and he takes full advantage, licking into you slow and filthy, like he's savoring every second of it. His teeth catch on your bottom lip when he pulls back just a little, only to dive right back in, lips sealing over yours again like he can't stand not kissing you.

And fuck, you melt for it. For the way he kisses like you're something sweet he can't stop craving, like he wants to drag the taste of you out long and aching and endless.

His weight presses against you, his body solid, heat radiating from his skin, and when his thigh shifts, pressing between your legs, you let out a soft, shaky little sigh, your body arching up into his. Jason smirks against your lips, his fingers dipping under your shirt, warm against your skin as he teases up your waist, his touch light, slow, deliberate.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, voice thick with want, "guess you're not so dedicated after all, huh, baby?"

And he doesn't stop there. His hand drifts higher, fingertips skimming your ribs before they finally close around your tits, squeezing, kneading, teasing you with slow, intentional touches. He knows exactly what he's doing, knows how sensitive you are, how easy it is to work you up until you're a whimpering mess for him.

His lips brush your jaw, then your neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your skin, dragging his tongue along the pulse that flutters under his mouth. His voice is deep, mocking, when he finally speaks, words warm against your throat.

"So damn insatiable."

And you are—grinding against his thigh, your breath coming faster, hips rolling like you need something—anything more than just the pressure of his leg against your cunt. Your nipple pebbles against his palm, and he chuckles, tugging your shirt up with one hand before leaning in and taking it into his mouth.

The heat of his tongue makes you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair as he sucks, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before he bites, just enough to make you jolt. Then he soothes it, licking over the sting, lips closing around the peak to suckle again, slow and deep, making you arch into him, chasing the feeling.

And he loves it. Loves the way you squirm, the way you whimper, the way your grip tightens in his hair when he switches to the other, dragging his teeth over the soft curve before his lips close around it.

He mouths at you like he's starving, like your tits are the only thing he needs to live. His tongue drags slow, lazy circles around your nipple before flicking the tip again and again, just to hear you whine for it. Then he sucks harder, lips sealed tight, cheeks hollowing slightly as he pulls another breathless moan out of you.

"Fuck, baby," he murmurs against your skin, voice thick and ragged, hot breath ghosting over the wet flesh. "These tits—God, you know what you do to me?"

He licks lower, wet and messy between the swell, then back up again, trailing spit like he wants you soaked everywhere, not just between your legs. His hands push your shirt higher, bunching it under your arms as he palms both at once, squeezing, thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples, slick with his spit.

He leans in again, lips dragging between them like he can't choose which one he wants more, switching back and forth like he's addicted, like he's trying to memorize every soft noise you make when he tongues one and rolls the other between his fingers.

You're grinding harder, pussy practically dripping, every drag of his thigh against your clit making your whole body twitch. And Jason? Jason just grins, lips still wrapped around your nipple, watching you fall apart just from how he sucks your tits like they're his personal fucking addiction.

He hums against you, the sound dark and pleased, one hand sliding down, down, slipping past the waistband of your shorts.

His fingers slip between your thighs, pressing just right over the soaked lace clinging to your cunt, and he groans, low and rough, like he feels it in his chest.

"Jesus, you're so fuckin' wet, baby."

And you are—the fabric already drenched, sticking to you, barely anything separating you from the slow, teasing circles he's rubbing against your clit. But it's not enough, not when you're already aching, already needing more, and he fucking knows it.

You whine, hips shifting, trying to push against his fingers, but he doesn't give you what you want. Just keeps barely touching you, brushing his knuckles over the damp lace, the ghost of pressure over your pussy enough to make you whimper.

His mouth is still working you over, still licking at your tits, sucking slow and deep until your nipple pebbles against his tongue, until you're so fucking sensitive you can't stop the little noises slipping from your throat.

Your fingers tighten in his hair as your voice comes soft, needy. "Jay, please—"

He hums against your skin, tongue flicking over the peak of your nipple before he suckles again, just toying with you, like he's perfectly content to keep you like this—whining, squirming, so needy it's almost pathetic.

His lips curl against your skin as he finally lifts his head, his fingers still moving slow, teasing, barely pressing against your clit.

"Please what, huh?" His voice is thick with amusement as he brushes another lazy touch over your pussy. "What do you want? You were talkin' so big earlier. What happened, baby?"

You whimper, hips shifting again, trying so desperately to push into his touch, but he doesn't let you. Just holds you down, controlling the pace, the pressure.

"C'mon, baby," he murmurs, voice thick with mocking sweetness as he drags his fingers over your clit—slow, featherlight, barely enough pressure to give you what you need. "Say it. What do you want?"

Your panties are soaked, the thin lace clinging to your cunt, and you know he can feel it. The way your slick seeps through the fabric, the way it makes every slow, teasing brush of his fingers more slippery, easier for him to keep you right on the edge without giving you anything.

Your breath stutters as you try again, voice coming out soft, desperate. "I need—" A sharp inhale as his fingers skim your clit, and fuck, you're so sensitive already. "I want you, Jay."

He makes a low sound in his throat, something that's almost thoughtful as he keeps up those infuriatingly light touches, the pads of his fingers gliding over your slick, swollen clit with just enough pressure to keep you right there, to keep you aching.

"Yeah? Do you?" he grins against your skin, his mouth moving to your throat, kissing, sucking until he knows it'll leave a mark. "Cause earlier, you were sayin' I'm in your way."

Your pout is immediate, your fingers tightening in his hair as you whine, frustration bubbling up in your chest. "I was just talking shit, baby—please, I need you."

But he doesn't budge, doesn't give you what you want yet, just keeps playing with you, his fingers teasing just right over your clit, flicking, rubbing, not letting you grind against him like you're trying to.

"Need me, huh?"

His voice is so fucking deep, rasping against your skin as his fingers finally slip beneath your panties, pushing the soaked fabric aside. You gasp when he spreads you open, fingertips sliding through your slick lips, smearing your arousal around as he grins.

"Jesus, baby, you're so fuckin' wet."

He loves it, loves the way you writhe for him, loves how fucking needy you are, even as his cock throbs, straining against his sweats, aching to be buried inside you.

But he doesn't care, not when he's having too much fun teasing you, playing with you, dragging his fingers over your soaked pussy like he's just getting started.

Jason groans, deep and gravelly, his mouth slanting over yours with a heat that makes your toes curl. His lips are rough, possessive, like he needs to taste every single moan he pulls from you, like he wants to swallow them down, keep them all to himself.

His tongue flicks against yours, teasing, coaxing you into parting for him even more, and you can't help but moan when he finally presses his fingers against your clit, circling the swollen bud with slow, deliberate strokes.

The slick, wet sounds are obscene, filling the space between your breathless little whimpers, your needy, muffled gasps as he works you, rubbing tight, precise circles that have your thighs trembling, your body tensing as he brings you right to the brink.

Your hips jerk as he drags his fingers lower, sliding through your soaked folds, gathering up every drop of arousal before he brings it back up, spreading it over your sensitive clit, making it easier for him to tease you.

"Fuck, baby," he rasps, breaking the kiss just long enough to nip at your lower lip, grinning when you whimper, "you're drippin' all over my fuckin' fingers."

And you are, your slick coating his fingers, making his strokes smoother, more precise, working you into a mess of needy little gasps, of desperate, helpless little moans.

Your head falls back against the plush rug as he grins, taking the opportunity to kiss down your jaw, nipping at your skin between murmured praise.

He finally—fucking finally—slides a finger into your pussy, sinking it in slow, making sure you feel every inch stretching you open. Your walls flutter around him, clenching at the intrusion, and fuck, he loves how tight you are, how you always squeeze around his fingers like you're desperate for more.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, lips brushing your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. "So fuckin' tight for me. You love this, don't you? Love havin' my fingers inside you?"

You whimper, nodding quickly, too lost in the slow, steady thrust of his finger, the way he angles it just right, making your cunt pulse around it.

"Yeah, I know you do," he rasps, a grin in his voice before he adds another, pressing both fingers deep, stretching you open as his palm grinds against your clit, sending a sharp, electric jolt through you.

You gasp, your hips rolling up, seeking more, but he just chuckles, keeping his pace slow, teasing, fucking you on his fingers with deep, steady thrusts that have your thighs trembling.

"Look at you," he murmurs, voice dark, full of heat, "takin' my fingers so good, baby. You're so wet, fuck, you're drippin' all over me."

You moan, making every movement smooth, obscene, the wet sounds of your pussy taking his fingers only making you more desperate.

Then he curls them, dragging against that perfect, sensitive spot inside you, and you cry out, your back arching as your pussy clenches tight around him.

"Yeah? That's the spot, huh?" he grins, doing it again, pressing his fingers just right, making your whole body shudder. "God, baby, you feel so fuckin' good squeezin' me like that. You gonna cum for me?"

And God, you need to, you want to, especially with the way his cock is pressing against your thigh, hard and thick, the heat of it searing through his sweats. The thought of him fucking you, of him stretching you open on his dick instead of his fingers has you whimpering.

Your pussy clenches around him, and he groans, fingers thrusting deeper, his palm grinding against your clit, rubbing, teasing, working you closer, closer, closer.

Jason groans into your mouth as he kisses you, lazy and wet, his tongue sliding against yours in slow, sloppy strokes that have you whimpering. His lips are soft, warm, but his kiss is hungry, deep and messy, like he's devouring you, like he can't get enough. And you—Jesus, you're already a wreck, your body trembling against him, your breath hitching between every filthy press of his lips.

His fingers fuck into you with a steady rhythm, curling deep, pushing against that perfect spot inside you, and you shudder, your pussy tightening around his fingers, so close, so fucking close.

"C'mon, baby," he rasps against your lips, his voice all low and wrecked, full of heat. "Let me feel it. Cum for me, baby, cum all over my fingers."

And you do. Your whole body locks up, pleasure hitting you like a shockwave, crashing over you in a hot, electric rush that makes your legs shake, your breath hitch in a broken gasp.

Your cunt pulses around his fingers, clenching so tight he can barely move them, your slick dripping down his hand as he fucks you through it, drawing out every last ripple of pleasure until you're gasping against his lips.

Jason fucking moans at the feel of you cumming for him, his fingers sinking deeper, fucking into your spasming pussy with slow, deep thrusts, coaxing every last drop from you. His cock throbs against your thigh, aching, needy, but he stays there, taking his time, watching you come undone.

Face all flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, your pretty little eyes all hazy and fucked out, barely even focusing on him as you come down from it. Jesus Christ, he fucking loves this. Loves how you always get like this whenever he touches you—dazed and needy, wrecked and whimpering, like he's the only thing keeping you grounded.

His fingers slow, dragging against your soaked, sensitive walls, making you twitch, and he fucking grins.

"Fuck, baby," he murmurs, voice thick with praise, "that was so fuckin' pretty. So good for me."

His hand lingers, fingers still buried inside you, soaked with your slick, and fuck, you're still clenching around him, like your body knows what it wants.

Him. Specifically, his dick.

And he's so tempted to just fuck you stupid right now, to shove his sweats down and give you exactly what you need—his cock, deep, hard, relentless—but no.

Not yet. Because you've still got a lesson to learn. But first, Jason drags his fingers from your pussy, slow and lazy, feeling the way your spent little hole clenches down on nothing as he pulls away. He lingers for a second, fingertips slick and shiny with your arousal, and then he drags them over your twitching clit, making you jerk against him, a choked whimper slipping past your lips.

And then—because he's a fucking bastard—he tugs your panties back up, pressing the soaked lace firmly against your still-sensitive cunt, trapping all that messy, sticky heat right where it belongs. You whine, a pout already forming on your lips, and Jason just grins, bringing his fingers to your mouth, rubbing them over your lips, smearing the taste of you against them.

You know what he wants. So you open up, tongue peeking out, and Jason groans as he slips his fingers inside, watching as you suck them clean.

Jesus.

Your tongue swirls over them, slow and wet, sucking him in deeper, your lips wrapping around his thick fingers as you hum against them, letting your mouth get all sloppy as you clean every last drop. Your lashes flutter, heat pools in your belly, your cunt throbbing again as you think—you really think—he's gonna fuck you now.

Because that's all you can think about.

His dick. Hard, leaking, hot, stretching you open, sliding in and out of your desperate, needy pussy, fucking you deep, fucking you hard, pumping you so full of his cum it drips out of you.

But oh, you're so wrong. Jason watches you for a second longer, his control fraying at the edges because fuck, you look so hot like this, but then he pulls his fingers from your mouth, spit clinging to them before it breaks. He smirks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, and then he moves, getting off you entirely.

You gasp, scandalized, blinking up at him in betrayal as he stands over you, adjusting himself with a satisfied little grunt.

"Baby, what the fuck are you—"

"Well," Jason interrupts, voice way too smug, "you haven't learned shit yet. Prove to me you can do what I told you earlier, and then I'll fuck you for as long as you want."

You stare at him, jaw dropping, because you cannot believe he just said that.

You sit upright, letting him pull you up from the floor, still gaping at him. "Jay, you can't be serious right now—"

He quirks a brow. "Bet."

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, your lower lip jutting out as you glare up at him. "You're mean."

Jason barks a laugh, eyes gleaming as he tilts his head at you. "You're the one who agreed to learn self-defense, baby."

You whine, pouting like that'll somehow change his mind. "But I have a taser and bear spray—"

"I don't give a fuck."

You pout harder, but it's not working. Not even a little.

He just smirks, shaking his head. "The more you pout, the longer you waste time."

You stick your tongue out at him, frustration bubbling in your chest. "I hate you."

He just chuckles, dark and knowing, his gaze dropping to your mouth before flicking back up to yours. "Keep talkin' all you want, baby. We'll see how sweet you moan on my dick after."

Jason waits, watching, arms crossed as you huff and pout, clearly not happy about being denied, but then your expression shifts. Your lashes flutter, your lips part like you're about to whine, but he sees that little glint in your eyes—oh, you're about to try some bullshit.

And he's right. Because the second his hand reaches for you, you move. His fingers barely close around your wrist before you do just like he showed you, twisting toward the weak point by his thumb, slipping free in one smooth motion.

His brows lift, and for a second, he looks genuinely impressed. But he doesn't say it, just rolls his shoulders and reaches again, this time wrapping his hand fully around your throat, fingers firm but not too tight. Testing you.

You don't hesitate. Both hands, grab the base of his thumbs, push outward, duck and pivot out of his reach, just like he told you. And it works.

Jason lets out a low hum, watching as you step back, grinning like you just pulled off the heist of the century. "Huh," he says, head tilting, that hot glint of approval in his eyes. "Guess you actually did listen."

But then he moves again, lightning quick, fingers aiming for your hair, and without even thinking, you go for his balls.

"Jesus fuck!" Jason jerks back so fast you'd think you actually landed the hit, his hands immediately dropping as he glares at you like you just committed a war crime. "Alright, fuck this, I give up."

Your brain barely has time to process it before you're grinning, bouncing on your heels as you beam up at him. "I did it!"

"That's not—" he groans, running a hand over his face before glaring at you, but there's something hot in his gaze, something that has your stomach flipping. "Yeah, fine, you did it. Now c'mere, you little shit."

His gaze drags over you, slow and deliberate, as he takes a step closer, big hands flexing at his sides. His jaw twitches, like he's debating how he wants to grab you, where he wants to put you, and then he just fucking moves.

He's on you in a second, hands snapping up so fast you barely have time to gasp before he's got you by the waist, pulling you right up against his chest. His grip is firm, possessive, fingers digging into your ass as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you squeal, clinging to him as he starts toward the bedroom.

Jason smirks, voice dropping, rough and teasing. "Gotta say, baby, 'm real proud of you."

You preen, tilting your head smugly. "Oh? Does that mean—"

"Yeah, yeah, I keep my word." His hands flex, grinding you down against the thick, hard bulge pressing into your pussy, and your breath catches. His smirk deepens, dark and promising. "And you're gonna take every inch I give you."

And you did.

You took every inch, again and again, in every way he wanted to give it to you. On your back with your legs spread wide, face down with your ass in the air, straddling his lap while his hands dragged you down onto his cock, over and over until your thighs were shaking. He used every angle, every position, fucking you through the bratty attitude until all that was left were the soft, sweet little sounds you made when he hit just the right spot.

He stuffed you full of him each time, slow at first, like he wanted to feel every clench of your cunt, the way your walls fluttered around him with each stroke. But it didn't stay slow. Not when you were begging, nails clawing at his back, whispering his name like a prayer.

He came deep, again and again, grinding into you with a low, possessive growl as his cum spilled inside—thick and hot, dripping out around his cock every time he thrust back in. He fucked it deeper with each roll of his hips, chasing every last tremble from your thighs until you went all soft and pliant underneath him, wide eyed and dazed.

No more teasing. No more smug little smirks. Just you, sweet, ruined, and wrecked just how he likes you.

[salemlunaa]

∘ೄྀ stop waiting around ೄྀ ∘

you’re triggering a pushback

stop waiting for something that’s already happened, stop sitting on tumblr asking if you can manifest so and so or when your manifestation is coming. Stop sitting back up after ten minutes of “waiting” to induce pure consciousness (immediately no) asking why you haven’t induced the state of pure consciousness.

“but I hate the way my life is going right now, you don’t understand- i NEED to induce” “Like you don’t understand i NEED this to happen NOW”

No one is trying to play the trauma olympics when we say you’re not the only one. you’re not the only one with shitty circumstances. you’re not some special being who is exempt from the law of assumption. it’s law, shifting consciousness to a reality where you have your desires can’t just “not work for you”. You need to stand firm.

That desperation is the reason you put inducing pure consciousness on a pedestal. And when you put it on a pedestal and treat it like a god, you believe that the “I am” is the external factor that will help save you and rid of all your problems, and that pedestal is where you go wrong. When it’s not. that’s you. So stop waiting and start being

Stop waiting for symptoms, you’re doing everything right.

Stop waiting to feel something, waiting to feel something 3d when you’re supposed to have your mind off the 3d is the reason you “struggle”.

Stop waiting for it to “come to you” or some shit, you have induced pure consciousness, you have your desires because you’re a god.

Stop waiting start knowing

idc what you’re circumstances are saying, i said this already, choose to save yourself. Save yourself by knowing.

Knowing your circumstances aren’t real

Knowing you’re a god and you can do literally anything, and when bloggers say you can do the impossible we’re not being sappy or corny, there’s no such thing as impossible especially when you know your power.

Know that you WILL induce pure consciousness, stop with all this “i’ll try tonight 🥺”, “just incase i don’t “fail”-”, “i STG if i fail tonight-” there’s no trying, you WILL and there’s no if or maybe , there’s no chance or luck, probability when it comes to being a god of your reality, there is only absolutes and 100%. When you speak something into fruition it happens.

Stop waiting around for it to click, Know that you don’t need clicking of any sort, you’re doing everything right.

You have everything you could ever want and need. You have it, stop waiting for it, stop waiting for the “I am” state to come to you, you induce effortlessly and instantly like you’ve been saying in your affirmations, like you’ve been visualising. Stop waiting for your manifestation, it’s already here.

by waiting, your pushing yourself back, you have it already, no matter what circumstances show, idc idc idc, neither should you.

🪸🌺 you have it, you’ve done it, stop waiting.

also my 200th post, i love it here and i love u my babies 💞💞 and thank u for 5k followers!!! and all the love, very much appreciated 🫡

[moonlit-typewriter]

“So do we have a deal or am I killing all 3 of you so I. Can eat. In peace?!”

Walker is the absolute king of micro-expressions.

This is how Percy reacts to Ares’ threat. Up to this point, he’d actually been giving the god some pushback (in typical Percy fashion). But the second Ares’ tone changed, the second that he gets angry, leaning forward, forceful and red-faced, Percy’s demeanor changes. His eyes widen, eyebrows draw together, his mouth falls open before he intentionally presses it closed, and he looks away.

He’s completely avoiding eye contact.

When he does look back at Ares, he has this slightly disdainful look in his face. The way that one side of his face is kind of scrunched up.

You wanna know what Percy still doesn’t do? He doesn’t hold eye contact. He looks at Ares, sure, but for less than a second at a time. When he finally says they’ll do it, he’s looking away and his eyes very quickly move to Ares’ face before looking away so quickly that it’s easily missed, almost like he’s trying to see how Ares reacts to his “surrender.”

And what does Ares do? He backs off. Sits back in his chair and smiles like he didn’t just coerce a kid. And while he’s talking, after that, we see Percy briefly again and he’s the only one of the 3 not looking at Ares.

The sudden fear in Percy’s eyes at Ares’ tone and inflection? Lowering his gaze? Giving in despite clearly not wanting to and the moment of processing after the interaction is over?

Just because we didn’t see Gabe being overtly abusive onscreen, doesn’t mean the abuse isn’t still there in subtle ways.

[humanjarvis]

thinking about josephine trying to cook for child mc and caleb in the early days after their adoption. not expecting any pushback, she tells them what they’re having for dinner. mc’s a picky eater, but she’s too scared and shy to voice any complaints. that’s when caleb swoops in. he knows she can’t eat certain things—her grimaces at mealtime and barely touched plates in ever’s lab had told him as much. so he takes matters into his own hands. “we won’t eat that,” he says, young voice firm with resolve. “she doesn’t like it.”

[queenkatluv]

Don’t Use My Voice For AI

I’m so fucking sick of this guys, holy shit. How many times do we have to say DON’T DO THAT BEFORE YOU GET THE HINT??!

Idc if you don’t think it’s dangerous, I don’t care if you think it doesn’t hurt anyone.

If you think it’s so okay, let me compile your voice into a bot, make it moan and send that clip out to children and weirdos, let me use your voice to make you say slurs and pretend you actually said it. Let me make you say the most disgusting things possible and try to cancel you.

I legit hate that you guys keep fucking dragging me back to talking about that fucking fandom by doing the most disgusting shit. But if you want attention so badly, guess what, I’ll give it to you. Every account that I find, I’ll reblog this with a picture of. Just know I AM reporting everything I find, and I don’t care if this sparks a witch hunt or shaming. I’m tired of expressing our boundaries and constantly getting pushback or bad parties hiding in the shadows.

Here’s our first star of disrespecting our boundaries!

[project-sekai-facts]

I should also note that for whatver reason it may be, the start time was pushed back by 3 hours from the usual 3pm to 6pm (9am UTC)

Didn't they change the Anni event duration to make Mizu5 fall on national coming out day?

i said this morning that i didn't think it was intentional but i just checked and the current nene event is 1 day shorter than the anniversary events from the previous two years. so maybe it was intentional?

[keferon]

I'm curious about what exactly is the state of human-mer relations in the au. Like, are humans just somehow unaware of how intelligent mer are? Are the powers that be aware of how sapient they are but the average person just thinks they're like regular fish? Actually thinking back to the simpatico au maybe some scientists (like perceptor) realize how intelligent they are and try to get reform in place but they face, like, a lot of pushback?

Alright hear me out on that one.

You know how humans and some monkeys have basically similar body shape and features. You wouldn't mistake one from another but if you show a human and a monkey to...uh..let's say an alien? They would likely think that those two are pretty close to each other and human is just bald for some climate reason?

So with that in mind. I think in order for the plot to happen we need some wild-wild mers that would look similar to the civilized ones but wouldn't be smarter than a parrot. Like they would be completely different species but they would look close enough ANnnd they would live in easily accessible to humans areas.

So humans would see them, capture them, study them and then confidently assume they know everything about all merfolks.

(Which certainly wouldn't be the first time they study something only on the surface and decide they know everything tbh.)

While the civilized Mers would live somewhere far far and deep deep. And also purposely hide from humans because humans "are stupid and trash and destroy everything".

Also. A bit of cartoon logic of course👌

[debonairprincesposts]

Outside Sucks

Summary: Reader is an introvert. Jason is pleasantly surprised when you agree to go out with him without any arguments. Practically stupefied.

Words: 706

Jason bounced the heel of his boot against the concrete outside your apartment. Usually, this was the point where his anxiety started to ramp up. He'd rehearse his arguments in his head, mentally preparing for the barrage of sarcastic retorts and stubborn refusals. He was ready to deploy the "fresh air" card, the "vitamin D deficiency" card, and, if necessary, the heavy artillery: the promise of greasy, delicious junk food.

He knocked on the door, a familiar, slightly impatient rhythm. He braced himself.

The door swung open, and there you were. You were wearing a pair of ripped jeans and one of his old hoodies, your hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. So far, so good. But it was your expression that threw him. You looked... almost... agreeable?

"Hey, Jay," you said, your voice surprisingly soft.

"Hey, baby," Jason replied, a knot of suspicion tightening in his stomach. "I was thinking... you know... maybe we could get out of here for a bit? Get some air?" He waited for the usual pushback, the litany of reasons why staying inside was infinitely preferable to facing the outside world.

Instead, you just shrugged. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

Jason blinked. He stared. He felt like he'd walked into the wrong apartment. "...What?" he managed to stammer out.

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in your eyes. "What do you mean, 'what'? I said, 'sounds good.' As in, I'm willing to leave the apartment. As in, you don't have to launch into your whole 'sunlight is good for the soul' speech."

Jason was officially flabbergasted. He'd been ready to launch into a full-blown debate, armed with statistics about the benefits of outdoor activity and a mental list of every burger joint within a five-mile radius. He'd even mentally prepared a counter-argument for your inevitable "I'm perfectly happy being a vampire" comment.

"But... but you hate going out," he sputtered, feeling like he was missing something crucial. Had you been replaced by a pod person? Was this some elaborate prank?

You chuckled, a low, throaty sound that usually meant you were about to unleash a particularly cutting remark. But instead, you just smiled, a genuine, almost... sweet smile. "I know, I know. But I've been feeling a little... restless lately. And I figured, why not? Besides," you added, a mischievous glint returning to your eyes, "I could use a coffee. Your treat, obviously."

Jason's brain was short-circuiting. He couldn't process this. He'd spent so much time anticipating the struggle, the resistance, that he hadn't even considered the possibility of... compliance. He felt like a general who'd prepared for a siege only to find the gates wide open and the enemy waving a white flag.

"Uh... yeah, coffee. Definitely my treat," he mumbled, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "So... you're actually... going?"

"Yep," you said, turning towards the back of the apartment. "Just give me, like, five minutes to throw on some makeup. Wait in the living room."

And with that, you disappeared, leaving Jason standing in the doorway, utterly bewildered. He slowly stepped inside, his mind racing. What was going on? Were you sick? Had you finally cracked under the pressure of his constant nagging? Was this some kind of elaborate trap?

He wandered into the living room, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings as if searching for clues. He sat down on the worn couch, his fingers drumming nervously against his thigh. He was so used to fighting for every inch, every concession, that this sudden, unexpected agreement felt... unsettling.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Maybe you were planning something. Maybe you were just lulling him into a false sense of security before unleashing a torrent of pent-up frustration. Or maybe you actually wanted to spend some time with him, outside of the apartment, without a fight.

He didn't know what to think. But as he waited for you to emerge, he couldn't help but feel a strange mix of relief, suspicion, and a tiny sliver of... hope? Maybe this was a sign that things were changing. Or maybe he was just setting himself up for a spectacular fall. Only time would tell.

[bunnwich]

HELLO! Do you have a summary of how you portray Leona's personality in your stories? I'm a big fan of your Leona and Yuu stories and I've read them multiple times www /gen I always feel like you just nail how he would act and say things and you inspire me to work on my own fics and get better at writing scenarios with him. Than you in advance ily🙏 🦉anon

How I Portray Leona in General and in Romance

HI ANON! So I've gotten this question a few times and someone in my discord asked me basically the same thing so I'll share with you what I wrote a few months ago about Leona and the general way I write him. (it's quite funny bc a lot of these things come up in Chapter 7 when we see his dream. I AM CURSED WITH APOLLOS'S GIFT OF PROPHECY WITH THIS MAN ISTG)

I hope this is helpful?? I would like to point out that the way I write Leona is fully based on my biases and life experiences. And that a big part of fandom is projecting what you wanna see in characters while still making them feel like the same character we know in canon, yk? Good luck with your fic writing! And thank you!! mwah mwah.💚 --

So Leona takes himself as a direct person, BUT he hides A LOT. He purposely misdirects people to get a reaction out of them. (Ex: pretending to be incompetent to anger someone) or he's playing with them. HE LOVES GAMES. Everyone is a chess piece, he has to feel in control bc that’s all he has ever had over everyone else; his wits. He’s a dickhead. He will say offensive shit to scare people off.

It’s a test to see who sticks around. He has no reservations when it comes to this. You take him as he is. And despite how some people write him he’s kinda silly? Like dad jokes. Why does he joke so much about eating people, who knows? (He says shit like Namby-pamby ffs) Why are you a 40y/o in a 20 y/o body?

I HC he purposely talks casually and gruff to distance himself from his upbringing. (I like to mix proper language and slang with him bc it feels right? Also lots of animal puns, and nicknames. HE'S CORNY AF)

In general, I don't think Leona is an entirely romantic person in canon, however in my timeline, I do HC that he, like Scar has this “want vs need problem” with connection to others. He thinks it's just praise he wants (or to be king) BUT he NEEDS TLC. What was Scar MOST jealous of at the end of the day?? Mufasa’s connections, a ✨queen✨, a family! BEING KING DID NOT MAKE SCAR HAPPY!! He needs to be needed and in Chapter 2 novella, he admits he HAS to numb himself to not care. I feel like this is something he constantly battles with. Yeah, he's lazy but it's partly bc he’s tired. He’s burnt out.

On the surface, he projects 100% nonchalance. He wants you to think everything he says is just "off the cuff", but it's not. He plans everything!!! He’s a mentor, big bro, caretaker. He is not the best at comforting words but he enjoys being a leader bc people appreciate him and look up to him. Something he never got at home.

Leona and ✨Romance✨

He fools himself into thinking he has the upper hand at first and keeps his distance keeping an eye on the object of his affection. Why would you catch his eye? Well, his greatest strength is picking up on OTHER STRENGTHS. Chessmaster. He is a mentorrrr and caretaker lowkey, he wants others to NEED him and rely on him. HE WANTS YOU TO NEED HIM.

At first, he would place himself in your path, trying to be helpful in a very tsundere type way. But he would still be causal and keep ruffling your feathers to gauge how you feel for him. He guards his heart pretty heavily. And more and more he is slowly collecting info about you he would find more ways for these meetings to happen until he realizes: "Oh shit, I’ve caught feelings." This one is the winner. He’s the king of nonchalance but also...he’s a very overly sensitive person. No doubt he’s freaking out a little, he doesn't wanna screw this up. But, he’d never show it.

I do think he wants to be challenged and given some pushback (insert manga panel about "something being harder to get and therefore is better"), He wants to WORK for it, to prove himself to you that you SHOULD choose him. He wants to impress you. It makes him feel alive. A person who keeps him on his toes.

And once this ”game” of cat and mouse starts to happen. He might start to let his guard down if you are shown you can be trusted with his VERY VERY delicate feelings, that you DO accept his flaws, treat him differently than all others, and see past his gruff demeanor. It is a test of sorts. He is testing that you can “handle” him. MORE GAMES.

He’d let you set the pace though. He won't be the first to give in. To kiss you or confess first. But he would fall first HARD. He’s not been given much one-on-one attention in his life so he would crave that time with you. Physical touch is a big one, but he would not be pushy. He'd tease your boundaries and become addicted to your time together.

But yeah, this push and pull goes on for a while, all the while he’s gauging how you react to this. Memorizing it all.

He’s def one of those texters who erases their sentence like 5 times when they are nervous bc he is cookin' up the RIGHT response to endear you. (Not in a sappy way of course more in a: “I know you miss me, mouse.” snarky sorta way.) Though he can be self-deprecating on bad days. He’ll act confident, though soften up behind closed doors.

I think once he realizes that you have picked up on his simpery and there's no going back...all bets are off. He doubles down, no longer ashamed of hiding it. (Assuming at this point the person has reciprocated these feelings too!) He wants to be yours and he’s not subtle. Someone to be by his side.

Then you get the REAL simp Leona, who lowkey mumbles the sappiest shit to you in his native language when he holds you, (bc he’s still embarrassed to be vulnerable, though this will fade over time) He’ll be your biggest supporter, and wants you around him as much as you can be.

This just keeps going until you're married. Congrats you now have a lion to take care of forever.🦁 Hope this helps!✨

[velvetvexations]

Hey, legit question from someone trying to approach transandrophobia discourse in good faith. It seems to me that a lot of the disagreements on this topic are centred on the idea of whether or not trans men and transmascs have male privilege. I get where the pushback on this comes from, as many transmascs have lived a good percentage of their lives in the closet, where society treated them like cis women.

However, if we say that they don't have male privilege because they were raised to be women, aren't we implying that trans women do have male privilege because they were raised to be men? Cos that's terf ideology 101.

Acknowledging that gay men have privilege over gay women isn't saying that gay men have it easy, or that they aren't oppressed for being gay (I assume you don't disagree with this?) So why is saying the same thing about trans men different?

Trans women don't have male privilege on account of them being trans women, They grasp for what trans men are tainted with from birth. It's super not that complicated but people keep not getting it because they see someone say "I like pancakes" and read "I hate waffles."

Misogyny affects women and people perceived to be women. I can't vibe with this bizarre alternate universe other people live in where someone just has to say "I'm a man" to get others to stop treating them misogynistically! People will really come out here and say that transitioning towards manhood is looked upon with reverence, as though men oppress women until one decides they'd like to be on top themselves at which point they roll out the red carpet and pop bottles congratulating them on choosing to be the superior gender.