#seriously more people should follow me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dragonlights · 2 months

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Like I don't Post about drama but vis a vis predestro's Tumblr ban, like. I don't necessarily think it's a good thing that we on the Internet have become so desensitized to threats of violence that we use them as jokes, but like.... That's been Tumblr culture for, what, a decade now? At least four years. Almost definitely longer.

And like. I've seen so much worse. Folks admitting to sending asks telling others to kill themselves!! Folks outright wishing x/y person killed themselves!!! Folks harassing trans folks (esp. trans women!)

But what gets this one lady banned was her man door hammer hand car boom-ass post???

Like, talk about enforcing the TOS from the wrong angle.

I totally get that part of it is "this person had their rule breaking reported en masse so something happened" but shouldn't the severity of the response have more to do with the severity of the offense, rather than how many people reported that user?

Like. The fact that we have to do mass reports to get anything to happen to anyone is ridiculous.

And, the fact that INCORRECT mass reports aren't punished more is also ridiculous.

There's also no report function for discriminatory content, or for seeing users harass each other. So... If you're not the one being harassed, your report does... Nothing??

Unless you, what scroll through someone's blog looking for things you could report as threatening violence??

On the "I hope every politician dies" webbed site???

There's obviously something fucky with their reporting system- either the way that reports are handled, or the way the severity of the reports are being judged.

Cause right now, it looks like they got a flood of reports from TERFs, photomatt saw a post about him, and went "well, fuck it, get her out of here" without looking at the context of HER BEING HARASSED FOR AGES. And that the post in question- the only one I saw shared!- was almost certainly a vent post for Said Situation that was...

Comically mishandled?

Like this one?

Like. Look. Do I think maybe at some point, on the "way too comfortable with violence on people I see as Wrong in some way" webbed site, a popular user said something that could actually be construed as a threat, and due to rampant transmisogyny got, got her shit reported?

Yeah, I can see that.

I don't follow her blog too closely, I know she does a lot of hyperbolic stuff. (as is Done on this Web site, again... I've almost certainly rb'd things just as bad)

But the example photomatt uses is hilariously bad and so obviously not a threat, and one would think, IN LIGHT OF THERE BEING ALLEGATIONS OF TRANSPHOBIA ON THEIR TEAM FOR YEARS, THEY WOULD BRING OUT A MORE CREDIBLE PIECE OF EVIDENCE THAN A LOONY-TOONS ASS DEATH WISH.

Just. The bar was on the ground and they still fumbled It! Fucking! Amazing!

#dragontalk #i don't like all her views on transandrophobia. but her takes on the ways trans women are policed are spot on.#but seeing this shitshow is wild! I've followed thia lady for ages and she's like. Intense but fine?#again. i don't follow her blog too closely! there might be more harsh shit that I'd never seen!#but. mostly i see a lady who's had to fight constantly. in a way lots of trans women have. to be taken seriously.#not as a threat. not as a joke. not as a hypothetical. but as a person! who's experience this like.#really shitty intersection of transphobia and transmisogyny and probably regular misogyny and like. l #i think most of us would get pretty snippy at that point too #and given we exist in a culture way too comfortable with wishing violence on people... yeah.#most of us would have wished ~someone~ got hit with a falling grand piano or an anvil or stepped on a rake so hard they died #just. truly wild times we live in.#maybe i should start a collection of 'this post wishes violence on someone'#maybe even narrow it to 'violence on someone who hasn't upheld state sanctioned violence during their life'#to cut out the ronald Reagan margeret thatcher queen lady ass violence wishes #which i can't even bring myself to care about. and that says something about me o don't think i like. but like.#but at the aame time too much colonial ass violence in this world. I'm Tired.

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rawliverandgoronspice · 3 months

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not dipping back there again after this, but my opinion on where the discourse re: us politics is heading is not getting any nicer.

#thoughts #personal #not a vagueblog about any blog in particular #because it's been a deluge on my dash for a good two to three weeks from every side and almost every US blog I follow #I don't even disagree with the endgoal (I mean I extremely do but I understand the stakes)#but I deeply *deeply* disagree with the way it's all being framed #though I'm not surprised. and I wasn't expecting better.#but yeah in a couple of years we might all need to unpack what that strategy looked like from the outside.#because wow #the weaponization of “white guilt” in particular to silence what is often (from what I see) PoCs trying to express their loss of faith #is. so very revealing to me.#the assumption of motive and identity here and how much more convenient it feels than the actual messy complicated truth #I think the usage of “white guilt” and “white saviorism” as a weapon thrown in between white people to control each other's behavior #especially in moments like these where PoCs are explicitely demanding our collective solidarity and voice #is actually a conversation we should all very seriously have at some point #anyway.#not mad at anyone for wanting to vote for biden #kinda mad at a good 75% of the posts prompting people to do so however.

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thenwethrowitonthefire · 1 month

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Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family

#fucking hell #it started with finding out my dad smoked in my car when I picked up my sister #who was equally dreading the day #my mum turns into the world's tensest and judgemental presence. worsened by my aunt #then hell for autistic people (of which there are multiple present)#multiple deaf people means one uninspired conversation that isn't interesting in any way.#combinations of passive aggressiveness and people not saying a thing because they can't participate. voice volumes too damn high #weirdass food situations. Very full table. so many smells.#this goes on for over an hour. wishing for literally anything but being there. soul crushing.#then you still have to sit in that room for 2.5 hours. it just goes on and on.#my autistic deaf dad physically looks like how I feel. my mum and aunt keep piling on top of him to demand his mental presence #i leave the room once (to get my phone to show pictures to my uncle) and am immediately followed upstairs by my mum #who demands I don't leave the room (What's next. following me when I need the toilet?)#me and my sister are so bored we start throwing paper planes and fake fighting.#Which amuses the bored and the deaf #but of course my mum and aunt have opinions and this is not allowed. only soul crushing boredom allowed #they complain to each other over it while aggressively doing dishes #finally it ends because my mum and aunt start insisting my dad should go to bed if he's 'that tired'. *sprinkle on some additional ableism*#still sitting through a conversation about allergies one of my sister's friends has. my mum preaching that people should take that seriously #(meanwhile i had to cook for myself for 9 years because when my allergies were really bad no one bothered to check if i could eat something)#me and my sister go sit upstairs to discover our mum has made things we care about vanish in her room #and made things appear that should not be there #I've washed the interior of my car and hope the smell will go #you think it's over after that. but woke up with the realisation that even more things have disappeared from my sister's room.#i can't remember a time when things left outside of my room didn't disappear #I don't know why we do these family gatherings at all. no one has fun on days like that.#the housing crisis isn't making these things easy. my sister is losing her place to live again as well #she'll go hiking for a month and then work on a campsite over the summer #maybe I'll go house sitting again. idk.#can't make commitments a few months in advance like that because I'll cancel everything the second Sparks announces anything important

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miko-honey · 2 months

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Me looking at my blogs like this one:

#Seriously some of these people I don't even know or follow LMAO #Some of my friends aren't there either which makes me more sad than I should be

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bevydev · 4 months

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post i didnt save save me

post i didnt save

save me post i didnt save...

(cannot find post i saw this morning and didnt save to drafts, any help would be much appreciated 😭)

#in all seriousness i did see this comic (more like piece of art with how much style was put into the comic) about a silhouette figure #helping a crow that said it had lost its flock by placing the crow on their shoulder and (i think) saying that theyd be happy to guide it #until it found its flock again; then theres this artwork at the bottom of the comic with the silhouette holding a bloody sword #they were tall wore a cowboy hat and was completely covered in shadow with only white eyes and white sword with blood on it having any colo #i think they said other things at the end of the comic but i honesty cannot for the life of me remember what it couldve been #all i remember is the figure standing with the sword; the hilt in their hands the tip in the ground and the crow sitting on its shoulder #it should be from someone i follow since i dont follow tags like art comic or artwork so it wasnt a recommended post #and sorry to out myself as someone who uses the 'include likes' feature but since its nowhere it on my dashboard anymore #very very likely it mustve been a liked post instead of a reblogged one so theres no searching for it on other blogs either #so sorry to out myself as someone who uses that but bc a lot of time people will just like a piece of art to save it #even if its really cool instead of reblogging them and i would be none the wiser about it (to be fair im keeping my likes open from now on)#okay..im done; im gonna go make some spaghetti or something 😔

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bri-cheeses · 5 months

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Just wanna let everyone know that every time someone new follows me, I get this huge, stupid smile on my face. It’s nice to think that my posts have brought joy to even ONE person, much less multiple people. I hope you have great days lovelies ❤️

#seriously #i feel like everyone nowadays is just looking for a big number when they go to see how many followers they have #and if it’s not a crazy high number then they’re disappointed #but touching even one life—even if it’s only a little bit—is mind blowing to me #and it makes me happy that other people #even if it’s only a somewhat small amount #enjoy hearing the things I think #and that’s what is so cool about tumblr #because it’s truly just a place to share your thoughts #and if other people enjoy them #then that’s a really really cool thing #and I don’t think that having one or two followers should be as overlooked as it is #because that’s two more people that i’ve connected with #and i just think that that’s really cool

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iguessitsjustme · 9 months

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I can’t believe I have to say this but performatively tagging me and thanking me for participating in a fandom when you don’t follow me, don’t talk to me, and haven’t ever once interacted with any of my posts (not even in the fandom you thanked me for participating in) is a good way to get yourself blocked.

I make posts for myself, not to be thanked for participating. If you’re grateful that I made the posts, I’m glad! A lot of people have thanked me for many of my posts for many shows. I don’t have a problem with it. But feel free to tell me on the posts. Or don’t tell me and just like or reblog. But creating your own post, tagging me, and thanking me feels hollow when you haven’t done any of that on my posts.

I don’t mind being tagged in posts. I even like it! But please don’t just do it because you think you have to because I was one of the many many many blogs writing about a show and you’ve seen others tag me. Please tag me because you want me to see something. It feels like you’re tagging me to boost followers and if you knew anything about me, you’d know that I am not the person for that.

I don’t like blocking people, but this shit makes me so uncomfortable that I need to start blocking in order to remain on tumblr.

#rae irl #this is just so fucking weird to me #I can’t imagine going around and thanking people for participating in fandom the way people keep thanking me #I participate for me and no one else #if you’re worried that I might block you cause you tagged me in something lately don’t worry #if you haven’t been blocked then I’m most likely not going to block you but if you’re seriously concerned feel free to reach out #and if you’re thinking of tagging me but scared doing so will get you blocked again you can reach out #or if you’d rather just not tag me because you’re not sure that’s fine too I don’t need to be tagged #I do enjoy it most of the time but it’s never necessary #and I have plenty of mutuals who will #likely tag me if they see it and think I should be tagged #I think my rant is done #wait no there’s more #I don’t know what’s going on right now but if you want to build a following that’s fine you do you #but I cannot stress enough how much I do not want to be a part of that #people that actually follow me or know me or have talked to me at all know that’s not something I want #so please for the love of god leave me out of it

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passiveagressivepoet · 10 months

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con this weekend did teach me how much i love the supernatural cast outside of the big 3 (who i also think are amazing). i have a whole new collection of favs that I love even more than I thought I did. Seriously, the whole cast was amazing in their panels and so fucking awesome. Sam, Kim, Brianna, Ruth, Felicia, and Rachel are amazing women and kick so much ass. Matt, DJ, Gil, David, Rich, and Rob are all so funny. I swear half of the time I was laughing. Have some great new favs from this weekend

#a bit of a rant #i’m finally starting to process my feelings about this weekend #spn con #but seriously the cast outside of the Js and Misha are so fucking awesome #highkey the panels were my favorite part of the weekend #followed by SNS and karaoke #omggggg and the episode viewing was so much fun #it reminded me of going to rocky horror but as an episode of spn #we should have more viewing parties with large groups of people in society

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snekdood · 11 months

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Idk why i expect charitability from ppl who probably listen to whatever their staple favorite left-leaning video essayists says about the Other Leftists they dont like and takes it to heart and doesnt form their own opinion with the information provided (or the information specifically and intentionally left out to make the person look the worst that they can) just kinda does whatever that persons says because Its Probably Correct

I mean, theyre "on the left" and uses all the words you like, nevermind what their intentions or long terms goals are or how thatd reasonably be practiced irl or if it'd actually hurt the general cause of progressives and make things even more divisive and worse bc they value being petty more than actually having any values.

#yall be like 'i better go watch this black person who believes in racial separatism and take everything they say to heart and not form my #own opinion because the Correct Thing To Do is to let every minority im not say shit that would only help nazis in the long run Because Im #Not That Minority So Clearly I Have No Stake In This'. like idk. its one thing to pretend you understand every thing about a certain #minorities experience that you dont have. its a whole other thing to actually challenge people on their beliefs. and if the person you #are challenging cant give you a good enough answer or dodges or gets MAD at you for even asking - you should probably avoid them or at the #very least not just believe every fucking thing they say and never come to your own conclusions on shit.#people are supposed to have the critical thinking ability to have their beliefs challenged and give you an actual answer #theyre supposed to want you to understand. theyre supposed ro be able to explain it to people who dont understand #and arent in the same spaces enough to understand. if you cant explain to me why racial separatism is somehow Ideal then why should #i listen to you. just to do whatever you say no questions asked or else im bad and very problematic?#like how am i supposed to take this kinda person seriously when they go around calling shark3ozero the c word and other #racist shit. like you're not serious lol. you have no issue just acting like the people who disagree with you on something are just purely #bigots.#when the people you attack are far more on your side than the fucking republicans who yall barely even mention. which is interesting.#anyways if you believe in dividing everyone by race understand that thats LITERALLY what white supremacists want. that is Not the ideal #world for me. idk about you. and if you understand this and still follow me gtfo of here #you're a dipshit and prolly an accelerationist and i dont have time for your bullshit and likely nihilism.#you're gonna end up killing yourself thinking the world is only ever against you and everyone who disagrees w you is a bigot.#and i dont mean necessarily actually putting up a noose i just mean you're gonna isolate yourself SO MUCH from other ppl and stay only in #your one little space. that if you ever lose that space for whatever reason you'll be left alone w no help.#or you'll isolate yourself so much and stay inside forever and be hella paranoid in grocery stores thinkin everyone there Wants To Kill You #and im not gonna act like ik whats in the mind of someone who believes in racial separatism. that was more of an example. but i can try #to understand and i can tell that someone has to go through a lot of bs to think thats the only solution. im not trying to downplay why ppl #might think thats the best option. but really its the same shit w terfs and cis men and it kinda seems like its a solution born from trauma #with convoluted justifications for why its Fine actually #thats how it looks from my angle rn. if thats not the case and you feel like its different im always willing to hear different angles on #stuff. im never married to my positions as im not exactly a static person who never changes.#id say thats quite the opposite of my Whole Thing

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lenievi · 2 years

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Also it’s very easy to imagine Spock’s Brain being Kirk’s dream because

1. his reactions were ridiculous

2. Spock was the most annoying ever, and Kirk hates when Spock gets like that, so it makes sense he’d dream about him being that annoying lol

3. McCoy’s shown in a relatively positive light

#lol #anyway don't take seriously #i just can't get the image of kirk waking up and being like WTF was that brain #and then groaning because 'brain'#tos nonsense #i feel like people who started to follow me recently must think that I don't like spock :D #you should feel grateful you weren't there for my mc/s period... although I think I'm more annoying with mc/k #but in all honestly mc/k WAS my first trek ship. even in tos

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astroellipse · 2 years

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Tired tag vent 😞

#collecting my thoughts #seriously though why cant i do a read more on mobile #ah whatever. the informality of tags feels better for this. i guess.#just. anxious. i was chill all day everything was fine granted i was tired as hell cause i alept like shit #and now all my anxieties are hitting me! suddenly heart palpatations! yayy!!!#maybe i should not have watched better call saul before bed i shoulda done aomething more chill #granted i was getting j ro that funk where i didnt want to do anything but k couldnt aleep yet #going to implode head going to turn j to a great big fireball #theres just a lot all at once but its not even really that much im just a nervous wreck #i start school soon. never filed my fafsa for some godforsaken reason. hopefully i can focus through that #the place i replied to stopped replying abruptly while trying to digure out skmethjn with their website #had a weirsly atreasful time dealing with healthcare stuff #ambient worry about self image and my current situation and the future #aocial worries that i cant even vent about anymore because relevant people follow me now #not that thats a bad thing that's a net positive love havin friends #sparking with nonsense i need to ramble about but i cant cause its all just non issues and pity party stuff and hrg #the one thjng ill grant myself is oh my god maybe entering that relationship before was a bad idea now i know what it feels like #to be in love and i want that again so so bad #exploding again #i need to shower someone with love and affection jfc #maybe thisll pass or get less with time hopefully it does #but man its bad #as part of my weird sleep nonsense dreams last night there was one where i was in a relationship with fucking JERMA.#and it wasnt a dirty dream or anything we were just a tender couple talking about mundane shit and i rest my head on his shoulder and #ok now im getti g sodetracked because why the FUCK was it JERMA?? it coulda been my actual crush! that woulda made sense!!#hes not even my type!!!!!! god. anyways back to my crippling anxiety remembering that dream lightened my mood a little at least #heartrate atill funky but less overthinking #anyways going to pass out now its 1 and ive been exhausted all day that was enough no sense rambling #good night reader

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shotmrmiller · 1 month

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johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.

he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.

and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.

the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.

a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)

"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."

excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."

"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."

you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—

"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.

"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."

damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.

he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.

you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.

lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.

double damn.

"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—

"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."

when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.

the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.

simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—

his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.

the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.

"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."

somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.

"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"

the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.

he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.

the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.

as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.

"hush."

you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"

you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.

wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.

the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.

"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.

"gonna beg?"

the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.

you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."

the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.

"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.

he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.

and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.

"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.

"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—

the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.

"ya with me?"

you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.

"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.

simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—

"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?

"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.

"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."

he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.

his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.

he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."

that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.

his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.

your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.

"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."

your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—

and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.

"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."

there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.

simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"

he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.

simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.

"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.

it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.

simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—

"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."

there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.

"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."

a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.

you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.

your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.

your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.

(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)

his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.

and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."

"pet."

"please stop looking at me like that."

he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.

"make me."

as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.

your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.

when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.

good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.

sent 5:30 am

about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.

sent 5:49 am

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

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books-and-omens · 9 months

Text

Heyyyyyy I’d really like to talk more about the ball, who’s with me.

Because for all its glitter, the ball is dark. No, seriously, it’s dark. It’s eerie, it’s disturbing, and the narrative doesn’t shy away from showing us just how much.

As in a classic fairytale, mortals are being spirited away into another realm to dance through the night. Here, however, we see exactly who is orchestrating the dance, and why.

And we empathize with him, but watching Aziraphale has never been so painful or so unsettling.

Nina arrives distraught and is immediately hit with the realization that she doesn’t feel distraught, even though she knows she should be feeling it. She confronts Aziraphale and he just tells her: oh yes! :) no long faces tonight! And she is disturbed throughout the ball, thinks she is losing her mind, questions and fights the enchantment… but from time to time, the enchantment still takes hold.

And just—

Aziraphale. Aziraphale, you do know that manipulating people is wrong, don’t you? You… do know that? And yes, of course, neither Crowley’s nor Aziraphale’s approach to morality is human. They are eldritch, they are otherworldly. It was Crowley who changed the paintball guns into real guns in S1, though of course, the humans still had choice in using them.

But the ball is still different.

We’ve never seen Aziraphale do anything quite so disturbing before, or go so obviously deep into his own delusion. There are moments during these scenes when even Crowley, permanently frustrated, is very nearly disturbed. (“Angel! What are you doing?” or “Making it rain is one thing, but a BALL?”)

I fully think that by that point in the story, Aziraphale is not all right. He is in an anxiety spiral, denying reality fiercely, obstinately, disastrously, not listening to any of Crowley’s hissed warnings. Yes, yes, he is giddy, he is in love. It’s so very important for him that everything go RIGHT this night, the night he gets to dance with Crowley. Is he even aware of everything he is conjuring up, of the enchantment he has woven? The humans who step through the doors of the bookshop change: their clothing, their mood, their speech patterns… By this point, is Aziraphale doing this consciously at all? Or is reality conforming to his expectations, forcing everyone into a replica of the nineteenth century while Aziraphale himself, distracted and smitten, works himself up to inviting Crowley to dance?

In the first few episodes, as fear and danger grow, as Aziraphale is faced with the danger specifically to Crowley (I don’t see why he would risk his existence for you, Shax tells him in the car), Aziraphale only denies reality all the more fiercely, only holds on to his plans tighter, only puts more force into them and exerts more control (really, rather like the archangels with their Great Plan).

And the ball, beautiful and otherworldly and eerie as it is, is also a dire warning.

In the morning, it will be Crowley, not Aziraphale, who will get told off for manipulating Nina and Maggie. Aziraphale won’t reflect on this. He won’t be forced to reflect, and Metatron will manipulate him in turn.

There is a plan to follow. The show must go on.

GOD the ball is so dark.

#good omens 2 #good omens

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beforeimdeceased · 6 months

Note

hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!

CRYBABY! - (E.W)

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.

a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?

“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit

masterlist.

ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.

you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.

today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.

all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.

“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.

“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.

“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.

fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.

“bad day? cause it looks like it.”

“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.

“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.

you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.

she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.

“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.

“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”

“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”

you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.

“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.

“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”

you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”

“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”

“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”

“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”

“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.

“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”

you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.

you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.

it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.

“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?

you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.

“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.

she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.

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