#I am asking for privacy during this difficult time

[sfaamq10]

Help us🩸🔥

I ask everyone to look at us to sympathize with us. We have been here under bombardment and destruction for two years. The situation has not changed, but it is getting worse. Please help us. We are now dying of hunger. My little child can no longer stand it. I hope everyone contributes to feeding my child. Please breaks my heart. He cries all the time from pain and hunger.

I had a beautiful life, suddenly I do not know how I lost my life, we live in a tent that can only accommodate 3 people, made of nylon that no human can bear, just standing in it for more than two minutes during the day is enough to melt you, in addition to insects, diseases and lack of privacy, imagine all this!! Can you live??

Things here are more difficult than you imagined, reality is painful

[randomshyperson]

hi friend!!!

for your drabble thing, could you do

wanda + kisses + number 56?

i have so many i wanted to see but this one climbed to the top of the list immediately <3

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompts: angry kisses | warnings: arguing, roughly making out, some angst(ish) conversations, takes place during civil war.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

You met Wanda shortly before she joined a neo-Nazi organization in search of power, so you weren't surprised that she could be quite the stubborn and reckless person but that didn't mean you couldn't get annoyed by it.

When all the drama of Steve and Tony's divorce that they called work differences fell upon the Avengers, you expected to escape into a comfortable retirement with your girlfriend like Barton did for his family, but you returned to the tower only to find the two of them packing their bags.

The hole in the building's structure and the robot at the end of it were ignored by you as you joined them in the white secure van Barton got for their escape.

You didn't say a word the whole way, and as the route stretched out into the suburbs of San Francisco in search of yet another hero to help Team America, Wanda began to get equally irritated with the silent treatment.

Barton left you two alone in the van, determined to convince Scott Lang to fight for Cap and almost content to leave the tense atmosphere between you even if only for a few minutes. He practically ran away once he was out of the car, but neither you nor Wanda seemed very willing to break the silence.

Sitting with a seat between you, the distance seemed terribly greater than just a few inches of cotton.

Wanda, being the telepath that she is, suddenly groaned in an attempt to read the mess that was your thoughts and emotions right now.

To her reaction, you snorted softly before muttering; "Unbelievable."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, a defensive position at being reprimanded for her bad habits of breaking other people's privacy. "You can't blame me. You haven't said a word in 12 hours." She grumbled irritably, and you felt a migraine forming from the small invasion from before. Or maybe it was the constant stress of dating a witch with such a difficult personality.

Finally, you snapped.

"What exactly do you expect me to say, Wanda?"

Her frown deepens, but you don’t flinch. Now that it’s started, you have a hard time not shouting out the emotions that have been bottled up for the past few hours.

“I leave you alone for five minutes, and you get a government target on your back!”

She snorts in disbelief, turning her face toward you. "Steve needs my help!"

"None of this is your problem!" You immediately contradict.

"I owe him!" She insists and doesn't flinch at your ironic chuckle. "He gave me a second chance after Ultron, you know that."

"I gave you a second chance!" You retort irritably, your tone louder. Wanda swallows hard. "And a third, and a fourth. All I do is give you chances, Wanda. But you never choose me!"

Her eyes fill with tears. From hurt, frustration, or anger you can't tell. But you know the same tears are in your eyes too.

You don't shout again, but the firmness of your tone makes her shiver as if you were.

"I spent months going to congressional meetings and taking care of all the paperwork to make you a legal citizen of this country. I made a normal, civil life possible for us. And you threw it all away because Clint Barton asked you to. And I can't forgive you for that."

Wanda sighs in frustration. "I really wish you were able to understand that things are not that simple."

She uncrosses her arms, to adjust her hair back in a nervous gesture.

You tilt your head gently. The smell of Wanda's shampoo filled the car as she played with her hair, and you feel slightly intoxicated, as if anger was a background in your mind, and your focus was on the pleasant scent of your girlfriend.

She continues speaking as she turns her body towards you. "Of course I value and am grateful for all the effort you put into our relationship, into our future. But I am still someone who can move things with her mind. I am an Avenger. And when they need me, I have to show up."

"What about when I need you?"

She hesitates, frowning. You hurt her with the accusation, but you don't apologize. Neither does she.

"Don't be like that." She says, risking trying to touch your wrist resting on the seat. You huff, pulling your arm away. It’s your turn to cross your arms, shielding yourself from her attempts to get close, to change your mind. “Baby, look at me.” You turn your face further away, toward the window. 

“I’ll tell Rogers to go fuck himself and find someone else. I’m not going to join this nonsense for the ghost of a man he once loved.” 

“No one asked you to” she mutters, and you gasp in indignation. It’s true, of course. The invitation was never extended to you, maybe because the team knew your neutral stance. Or maybe because you would have told them all to fuck off if it meant putting Wanda in danger, or risking the life you planned with her. She tries to fix her words next. “Even though I’m glad you’re here with me—” 

“Oh come on.” You interrupt her in annoyance. "You said the words, now fucking own it. You don't want me here? Fine. I'll leave you to throw punches and energy balls at each other. Maybe you'll find another city or building to blow up around here."

It's too far. There's no healing a wound like the fall of Sokovia, and Lagos is fresh enough that Wanda feels anger take over her actions for a moment.

The slap isn't hard, but it's precise and burns your cheek.

She feels a hot tear run down her face, but she's busy choking on her own breath when you suddenly lunge at her.

There's an attempt to hit you again, but your hands grab her wrists, and instead of moving forward, you pull her body against yours. That's all there is for a moment; a small war of pushing and pulling, because the black widow trained two great fighters but then, Wanda is pressing her mouth to yours with all the conflicting feelings she's feeling at this moment. From anger and resentment to the burning, pulsating love she's felt for you since the first moment you looked at her. You kiss her back with the same intensity. Your experienced tongue doesn't ask for permission, and the kiss is dirty and sloppy, the sounds of your breathless moans mixing as you push your bodies together in a nearly physical fight for dominance.

Wanda ends up completely pressed against the van's seat, your warm body on top of hers pinning her against the cushion. She can't contain the pleading, whimpering sounds she makes as she feels your hands roaming so urgently under her blouse, and under her skirt. She closes her legs to trap your hand where she wants it, but you clamp your other hand over her throat in warning, and she kicks out a submissive whimper that makes you grunt aroused against her mouth.

Your tongue grows hungrier, exploring every corner of her mouth as you turn Wanda into an aroused, impatient mess beneath you. Just when she’s ready to beg for your hands to stop squeezing her tits and move to where she’s burning, you pull away at once.

She protests with a groan, her body vibrating in all the right places and her mind dizzy with arousal. You look equally breathless and affected, but you do a much better job of containing yourself, especially when the door suddenly opens.

It takes Wanda a moment to disguise her state and understand that you only pulled away because you had heard the commotion outside. You weren’t rejecting her, or teasing her. You were trying to keep it PG13 in front of the other two superheroes.

Scott Lang is talkative. A bit clueless, despite seeming intelligent, he’s too excited to realize what was going on, and he’s the perfect distraction to occupy them while you and Wanda normalize your breathing and heartbeats. 

Still, after Lang falls asleep after spending three hours telling her about how awesome it was to help the Avengers and other prison stories, Clint meets her gaze in the rearview mirror and doesn't say out loud: 

"I'm going to assume the guilty faces and torn clothes are because you girls managed to sort things out." 

She's kind of impressed that the entire team, even Clint who's been nearly one hundred percent retired since she joined, has learned to organize their thoughts enough that she can communicate telepathically with them. But she's too embarrassed right now to focus on pride. With a warm face, she steals a glance at your figure before looking at Clint's reflection again and nodding in agreement. 

He smiles wordlessly.

She turns her attention back to your sulking posture on the other side of the car.

Not wanting to wake Scott, her words echo inside your head.

"Are you really leaving?"

You huff softly, and Wanda is ready to give up on pressuring you to talk when she feels your hand on her thigh, her breath labored as you adjust to let your hand rest there on her warm skin, just at the edge of her skirt for what would be appropriate.

It's not a real apology, but it's a start. She bites back a smile, and risks speaking in her mind again:

"I'll make it up to you."

There's a gentle squeeze on her thigh, that brings a deep flush to her neck and spreads heat throughout her body. She looks forward, almost mortified that Clint might have noticed, but lucky he just keeps driving.

"Yes, you will." That's what you mentally assure her.

[r7leee]

ever thought of Dominic x famousgf!reader doing it backstage on his concert but the mic accidentally still being on so everyone could hear..?

talk like an angel | d.f.

oh GOD this one wins. this was actually so fun to write, hope this lives up to expectations <33

pairing: dominic fike x fem!famous!reader

summary: after an exhausting show, all dom wants to do is lay down with you. well, maybe more than lay down…

warnings: cursing, smut (duh), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT PLEASE), embarrassment ig?? also be warned it’s a very long buildup i apologize 😭😭🙏🏻

word count: 4,580 (i am so sorry.)

@saf-the-great

IT WASN’T SUPPOSED to happen. the media wouldn’t be harassing your privacy, fans wouldn’t be repetitively posting on socials, you wouldn’t be a disappointment to your label if it all wasn’t for some stupid mistake.

arguably, it could’ve been prevented if dominic wasn’t a complete star-stricken mess over you, but you wouldn’t ever wish that. not when he’d coax those pretty noises out you like witchcraft.

which was what he did that night.

between the two of you, it was pretty safe to say you could handle tour. you were both relatively known artists who’d been in the industry for a few years. hopping on a bus and seeing the world for a few months wasn’t hard.

the thing that made it difficult this time was the relationship. it wasn’t an issue for dominic in the past, his tours being relatively small, meaning the homesickness for his past lovers was minuscule.

but, with his new rise to fame, larger venues were booked with more stops. and for some reason, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go that whole time without seeing you at least once. it scared him.

see, you never had this issue, as you’d been between relationships during tours. this would be new to both of you.

you promised to keep in touch as much as possible, daily updates on life back in the city and how the latest show went. you told each other it could work.

and it did. for a while, at least. you honestly expected it to happen sooner.

it was about four weeks in when you didn’t know much longer you could take it. his side of the bed no longer smelled like him. all the messes he made in your apartment were cleaned. his collection, however sparse, of his items on the bathroom counter were gone. you missed it.

he missed it too. every morning, he would wake up, half expecting your figure to be lying next to him in a half-awake haze, until he realized all that was there was a pillow he’d been grabbing on to.

you especially knew it was time when he started asking for photos. videos. whatever he could get his hands on (literally).

dominic and you had a very…honest relationship. whatever the two of you wanted, you promised to say it. so, when you found the courage to speak to him about taking photos, he wasn’t one to deny.

he found himself enjoying it after a while, reaching over in the middle of his dick practically splitting you in two to grab his phone and take a video of the rapid in and out and how your tits bounced.

so, there was no shortage of photos and videos on either of your phones. which is why it surprised you when the message came down on your screen at a particularly late time at night.

“babyy ik it’s late but i miss your 🍒”

“can i see 😩”

of course, you had no opposition to it: it took you literally two seconds to just lift up your shirt. but, it made you think. he’d never done this before, not in the 8 months you’d been dating. that had to mean a lot.

it was only two days after you decided it was time. you called your manager and told her you were booking the soonest flight to cincinnati. she replied with a dissatisfied tone and a whiny “are you sure?”, but she got over it after your prominent insistence.

you packed about two weeks worth of outfits, your makeup, skincare, and other essentials, before promptly leaving for ohio.

one day later, and you were standing in the cincinnati airport with zero direction of the world around you. you wore a hat and sunglasses as you hunched awkwardly in a corner, texting reed, dominic’s manager.

he seemed surprised you flew all the way there, which you found funny. what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t?

reed gave you the venue he’d be playing that night, promising he’d alert the staff you could get in for free. he also offered to hook you up with a hotel for the night, compliments of him.

you smiled at the courtesy, but told him it wasn’t necessary and that you already booked one before leaving. his reply made you raise an eyebrow.

“good. you’re gonna want one.”

the indication of what that meant was unclear, but you just shrugged. maybe he was simply suggesting the bus wouldn’t be a comfortable place to spend the night.

after everything was arranged, you ended the conversation and stepped out into the summer air. you flagged down the nearest cab and directed it to your hotel.

the whole day, you decided to keep the knowledge of you being in the city to yourself. when dominic texted, you acted like you were at home and he was none the wiser. you found it funny, even if he had no way of knowing.

downtown ohio wasn’t really on your bucket list of places to visit, so you mostly spent the day to yourself. that was until 5:00 pm rolled around.

you’d always cared about your appearance; you wouldn’t be caught dead with a single hair out of place, a fear of the paparazzi making you susceptible to beauty trends. but this wasn’t the fear you normally felt. you just wanted to look pretty for dom.

you weren’t sure why you were worrying. your boyfriend usually didn’t give two shits how you looked; hell, he’d fucked you in the shower with a shower cap on. but, this was extra special. you knew he needed attention, and you wanted to deliver.

it took you an hour to get ready. your hair was done neatly in a style you knew he liked, your makeup creaseless and effortlessly blended (but catered to run if the events called for it), and your outfit was skimpy, but popped enough to be considered chic. you were perfect.

you left an hour early for the show. hiding your face with its usual camera disguise, you called an uber to the venue. as instructed by reed, once you were dropped off, you made your way to the back.

when you pulled up, you could see a long line of people, all fans of your boyfriend. it sometimes shocked you how many people actually listened. it was crazy to know it wasn’t just you sometimes.

the sound of your heels clicked as you walked around to the back. you were sure somebody would stop you, some worker would tell you the area was employees only and you’d have to plead your case.

but, to your surprise, there was nothing: only a dumpster, a semi truck, and a creepy looking alley. you weren’t sure which option was better.

you found yourself sitting on a staircase leading to the back, hoping the dirt wouldn’t ruin your dress. you pulled the material taught to your skin as the sun started to set, causing the air to cool. when was he gonna be out here?

it wasn’t quick, but after a while, a sound from the door behind you emitted. it made you jump, but you immediately calmed down when you saw reed’s tall figure in the doorway.

you gave him a small smile as you stood up, now pulling your dress down. “what’s good?” he asked with a smile, pulling you in for a quick hug. you and reed had gotten to know each other ever since dom and you had been together, and the relationship you had was something in its own category. he looked out for you.

you replied back with a simple, “not much. my boyfriend’s doing all the fun stuff.” you stepped inside as reed shut the door. the area was small, meaning you could hear the chaos of the backstage area outside pretty clearly.

“speaking of,” he started, walking up to stand beside you, “he’s in his dressing room right now if you wanna see him.” he looked you up and down. “sure he’d be happy to see you.”

even just thinking about him made your cheeks flush. “ya, where is that?”

he walked ahead of you, giving you a “come here” motion. he popped open the door, revealing the commotion outside. “i’ll show you.”

you carefully walked out of the door and into the chaos that was the backstage. crew members were running around, making sure the spotlights were working, the band’s instruments set up properly, the mic being adjusted at the right volume.

it’d been a year or two since this chaos was centered around you. and you kind of missed it. but this wasn’t about you. you snapped out of your daydream, following reed, who was now a few steps ahead of you.

a small walk later, and you arrived at a wooden door with the word “dominic” lazily taped on. he gave you a smirk as he tapped on the door. a distinct “what?” came from the other side of the door. his voice was a bit irritated, similar in tone to when you two would be caught by paparazzi.

“yo,” reed called out, opening the door without an invitation. he looked at you one more time. “he’s all yours,” he whispered before walking away, giving you a small salute.

your heart beat fast as you opened the door fully. there he was. messy brown curls and pretty brown eyes angled perfectly to meet yours.

it didn’t take him more than a second to register the fact you were here. right in front of him. his eyes widened, staring like that for a second before he stood up, clumsily, like he couldn’t believe he wouldn’t do it in the first place.

“baby.” that was all he said at first, walking up to cup his hands on your cheeks. you were sure he could feel the heat there.

“hi.” the word made him laugh softly, before immediately pulling you close to his body.

“baby, oh my god. how are you?” his voice was high, in that pitch only you got to hear.

“fine,” you responded, teeth full on display in a wide smile. he kept laughing and shaking his head, not fully grasping onto the fact yet.

he moved his hands to your waist in a simple action before whispering, “come here.” next thing you know, his lips were on yours. chapped and dry and somehow still so perfect. you missed this.

but, much to both your dismay, there wasn’t much time to be catching up. dominic was to be on stage in an hour, and he still needed to get his mic pack on and any final touches.

you still followed him, though, your manicured hand slotting in his. you filled each other in on your lives, how the bus had been and how la was still as hot as ever.

the chatter couldn’t have lasted longer, you thought, as you prepared to watch your boyfriend go on stage. you stood behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. “you’re gonna do great,” you whispered in his ear. as much as he didn’t want to admit it, praise did him wonders sometimes.

he laughed softly, causing you to feel his muscles rise and fall. “ya, i know i will,” he replied, turning around.

“ya, ya. i shouldn’t be supplying your ego,” you teased. he rolled his eyes, both of you knowing he barely had one. suddenly, a voice from beside you caught you off guard.

“dom, you’re up in two,” a crew member told him. you groaned, not wanting him to go.

dominic nodded, replying with a signature, “thanks, man.” the crew member nodded, then ran back to whatever he was doing. dom sighed, turning back to you. “i’ll be back soon enough.”

“i know.” you were staring at the ground before looking back up at him. one last kiss later and a large shriek of the crowd, and he was on stage.

there was something about dominic’s concerts you always loved, and it wasn’t just because he was your boyfriend. there was something so special seeing him perform these songs for people other than you. seeing how his silly little lyrics brought him to a venue filled with intent fans.

at some point, dominic had stopped to take a break. he leaned against the mic, staring out to the crowd. to his success. he stood with a smile, before speaking.

“i know i’ve been thanking y’all for comin’ out tonight…but i also wanna thank someone very special.” his head turned to yours, and when his eyes met yours, you swore it was like the first time you met all over again.

“wanna thank my girl in the wings here.” the crowd cheered, the hardcore fans knowing exactly who you were. some tried to move their position to spot you. if you weren’t so hooked up with your boyfriend, you’d be a little mad.

but all you could focus on was his eyes. his smile. how he was so genuine. he seemed to feel the same way too, ducking his head slightly. “wanna dedicate this next one to her.”

you weren’t sure what to expect when the opening chords of the song started. but, a few seconds later, you recognized the song to be what kinda woman. it was one of your favorites, one he often played while you were falling asleep, resting your head on his shoulder.

during the song, he stole a few peaks at you, singing different verses that held heavy meaning. it made your heart clench.

once it was over, a big smile overtook his face, his gaze still laying upon you. he brought the mic up to his face and announced a simple, “i love you,” before continuing on with the rest of the set.

at the end of the show, you were eagerly waiting backstage. what was going to happen was beyond you, either a tired or a worked up dom ready to approach.

the second dominic got off stage and managed to make his way through the huge crowd of crew, he ran to you. you smiled, running into his arms. he was sweaty and panting but you didn’t care.

“you did so good,” you told him. he smiled at the praise before pulling your head out of his shoulder to kiss you. it was a perfect mix of gentle and passionate.

“thanks,” he replied after pulling away.

naturally, dominic wanted to get cooled down after the show. so, you both headed to his dressing room. he immediately sprawled out on the couch in an exaggerated form, all of his limbs spread out.

you felt the need to do something, so you offered to grab him a water bottle. he replied with a tired, lifeless, “yes, please,” which made you laugh.

you popped out of the room for a couple seconds before grabbing one in a nearby cooler. you walked back to the room, spotting dom still in the same posture. his eyes moved to look at you, your location making it to where he had to tilt his head back. it almost kind of looked like-

“you good?”

two words that made you snap out of your thoughts. god, what were you doing?

with a curt nod and a dry throat, you replied with a simple “ya.” it made his eyebrows crease, the way it sounded so forced.

after a few more seconds of observing his features, you handed him the water. his fingers grazed against yours and you swore your whole body was on fire. now was not the time.

he thanked you while you found a seat on the other side of the room. you couldn’t be feeling like this, but at the same time, you couldn’t look away.

you wouldn’t dare redirect your gaze as his fingers encased the lid and unscrewed it. as he put the bottle to his lips, you could only feel your cheeks getting hotter. your thighs clenching together.

you didn’t even realize you were staring until he warned you, voice slightly raspy from the show minutes ago. “baby? babe, you good?”

your eyes snapped up, similar to a hollywood movie where a character was caught daydreaming. “hm? ya. ‘m good.” your lips suddenly felt dry, your tongue jolting out to lick them.

and for some reason, with some unbeknownst instincts, he knew what was happening. he knew the ache between your thighs from all the nights spent taking care of yourself and he knew damn well he could help.

he also knew he shouldn’t. be he wanted to. and sometimes that was all that mattered.

dominic beckoned you closer, the energy in him minimal. right now, he was saving it all for you.

you crept forward until you were hovering over him. his sweat dripped face and shirt already discarded on the floor weren’t doing you favors right now. “come here.” he patted the area right next to him on the couch.

you hesitated, wondering what would happen. he patted again, louder. “seriously, sit.” you didn’t need to be told again.

the couch shifted under your weight as dominic sat up. your faces were mere inches away from each other now. there were no words exchanged. all that happened was a press of lips to another.

kissing was always something dom was good at. he could sense how to navigate it, when to pull away, when to trail down. and that shone its light now.

the kiss was soft at first. you needed to make up for all the small kisses, after all. all the kisses before rushing out the door, all the kisses of getting home, all the kisses in the mornings…

but that quickly faded. the hunger you both inevitably felt was taking over. it was only natural after being so far apart.

you could barely even feel it, too caught up in the moment, but your back was pushed to lay flat against the couch. when you pulled away, only for more obscene activities, there was a string of saliva dangling between you two. how stereotypical.

dom paid no mind, wiping his mouth with a tattooed hand. his position over you was one you’d longed for months to come. what you missed more, though, were his hands.

they trailed from the back of your head, nestled in your hair, to down your back. his nimble fingers gripped the zipper of your dress with practiced precision.

for a second, he looked at you so sweet and sincere. anyone who doubted him as a nice person was wrong. they just weren’t looking hard enough.

but, the second your head nodded in compliance, it was gone. it took him mere seconds to get the dress off and throw it across the floor, landing on some nearby chair.

you felt under his mercy but at the same time, you almost liked being picked apart like this. you liked how his hands knew just how to get your bra off, liked how he was so fast, so precise.

“god, i missed these.” his breath was raspy as your tits were freed from the confines of the lace. if he were in a calmer mood, he’d likely make a joke about “his girls,” maybe give them a small slap to make you laugh. but he wasn’t exactly in a laughing mood right now.

he slid down ever so slightly, immediately taking a bud into his mouth. it elicited a gasp from you. sure, you’d roll a nipple between your fingers to get you going, but it was nothing like this.

the combined slick of his saliva and slight coolness made you flush bright red. you pawed at the couch behind you as he bobbed his head slightly, letting out little “mhm”s.

after giving ample attention to one, his mouth was only off you for a second before switching to the other. it was like if he was gone for too long, it’d kill him.

his tongue continued to swirl in tantalizing patterns until he deemed it ready. he pulled off with a small “pop!”, then massaged the areas he had his mouth on. almost like he was trying to infect the saliva into your skin. it made you moan.

you watched him, after a few seconds of rubbing, shift downwards with his hands sliding down to your hips. dominic lowered his body down on the ground, knees hitting the cement floor beneath him.

you could barely contain your excitement as his fingers practically ripped your panties down, also now on the floor.

when you were now spread on the couch, naked and vulnerable, all he could do was stare. he got lost in the curves and twists of your body. you were sure he’d gone paralyzed or something, the way he was just gazing.

you laughed, turning your head. “what?”

his eyes immediately trailed up to meet yours. it made your breath hitch. he just had some kind of look that his layers of yearning beneath it. “let me look, k?”

so you shut up fast. let him look at you like a feast he was ready to dig into before his hands nudged your legs wider. he grabbed one leg with his rough fingers and propped it over his shoulder.

with the other, his thumb landed on your clit. it traced a couple seconds, then trailed immediately down to your entrance. it shocked you, making you elicit the tiniest little gasp. you could see a hint of a smile on his face.

he spread your lips open to see the wetness pooling there. it made him groan. “don’t worry, it’s gonna feel so good.”

and without a further warning, two fingers were immediately inside your aching cunt. it took everything in you not to practically scream.

see, there was a difference between your fingers and his. yours were long, but skinny. they hit that special spot with ease, but they could never truly fill you completely. you were always left feeling a little underwhelmed.

but dominic’s hands did just the trick. his fingers were a perfect combo: long and slightly larger than yours. and not only that, but his countless guitar sessions made him experienced with moving. grabbing. thrusting.

so to finally, finally feel them within your walls again was angelic. orgasmic.

dominic’s fingers kept a steady rhythm. in and out, in and out, like the beat of a crude song. you didn’t know what to do, slapping your hand over your mouth. your whines were a stark contrast to the sound of wetness filling the room.

and when his fingers curled up, you swore your body was levitating. out of every lover, every toy, every quick fuck, this was the best you’d ever felt. no sounds came out of your mouth, anything other than basking in pure pleasure being too exhausting.

his words weren’t helping you much, either. “god, still so tight…shit, might have to warm you up more for this dick…you look so pretty…think you can take another, baby?”

which is why when his fingers left, you immediately retaliated. your eyes shot open, hand coming off your mouth. you couldn’t even open your mouth to speak before he cut you off. “don’t whine, ‘s gonna be alright. gonna get this…dick inside you.”

he trailed off, almost confused, but you swore you’d never seen anyone take off their pants faster. the fly was unzipped, button undone, and the whole material pooling at his ankles before kicking them off in a matter of seconds.

he was left in his boxers, earrings, and a necklace with his logo on it as he moved up the couch to lay down. he patted his thigh. “want you to ride it.”

you weren’t one to complain. definitely not when he pulled his boxers down and you saw him completely hard and waiting.

so, you moved to hover over his lap, knees stabilizing you. then, with a wide smile, you sank down. your head was immediately thrown back and a shared sound of pleasure emitted between you two.

you weren’t sure what it was, but right then, you were hyper-sensitive: you could feel everything. could feel your walls tightening, could feel even the smallest veins on his hard dick.

so, it was almost a challenge to move your own hips. but you wanted to make him proud.

you picked your hips up, moving up about halfway on his length before letting your pussy sink back down.

the feeling of it all made you go slow at first. you wanted to bask in the feeling of having him in you, here, right now. but, apparently, dominic wasn’t feeling it.

his hand came around your body to smack your ass. not hard, just enough to send a message. “you can go faster, c’mon.” it was more of a demand than a reassurance. you could tell.

so you picked up the pace. you weren’t sure how you were doing it, his dick penetrating you over and over again feeling like pure euphoria.

and it stayed that way for a good minute. deep moans and wet sounds of hips slapping together until it wasn’t.

you were lost in the moment, when suddenly, a loud bang on the door that could disrupt the deepest sleeper shot you out of your thoughts.

presented with fight or flight in this situation, you froze. your eyes launched open, head moved back in place, and you stayed split open on dominic’s dick. you could barely hear what the person on the other end of the door was saying. “dominic! stop!”

you didn’t recognize the voice, making your heart beat pick up as his head tilted towards the door. “what the fuck do you want?”

“for you to put your clothes on and come to this goddamn door!”

your heart dropped to your feet. you could see it in your boyfriend’s fave, too, as he remained still for a few seconds. “fuck.”

he looked up at you apologetically before rushing across the room to find his clothes. it took him a minute, his hands a little shaky as threw his shirt back on.

he was kind enough to throw you your dress, which you changed into shortly after him. you weren’t sure what was happening, but it was likely the backstage crew had heard you. simple as that.

dominic approached the door and opened it. what you didn’t expect was a crowd of people worthy to make up a whole musical cast to be on the other side. even worse, they all looked horrified. this couldn’t be just a simple leak.

your boyfriend shut the door, but left a small crack. you didn’t want to be caught up in the drama, but you wanted to at least know what was going on.

you stood behind the door, slightly peeking your head out to hear. it was clear you missed some parts of the conversation, but there were lots of words thrown around that were repeated. everyone. malfunction. serious. fuck. why. your name. microphone.

it made you sweat bullets. your body was still in slight shock from the subtle interruption, but the small piece of your brain still working was slowly piecing everything together.

if dominic’s mic pack was still on…and there was an error with the system…wait-

your puzzle piecing barley even registered before your boyfriend was standing in front of you again. his eyes were locked on yours, a look of fear in them.

“everybody in the venue just heard that.”

[drdemonprince]

it has been really frustrating watching you have this discussion about therapy being something that is ultimately 'bouncing ideas of a friend' and being able to push back against therapists with no consequence. i understand that perhaps you, and many of the people agreeing with you, have not personally experienced significant medical abuse at the hands of a therapist or psychiatrist, but to act as though people who warn others about the dangers of psychiatry and psychology are misinformed or just getting in on a trend or something, is wildly privileged and ignorant i have to say. i am a black person who is legally recognised as a female. i have endured signficant childhood abuse, physical, sexual and verbal. i have been neglected by my parents. when i first encountered the psychiatric system, it was much as you described. when i disagreed with my therapist, i could push back. however, since i first expressed suicidal ideation due to the escalating violence and instability in my home when i was 16, my psychologist, having known that i was trans, outed me to my parents, called the police on me, and threatened to report the abuse that my parents were levying against me and my siblings - something that i had done when i was 11 and had resulted in severe consequences for my siblings and i, particularly me. i was hospitalised four times in a two year period, during which i was interrogated about my gender in front of my transphobic mother (which worsened conditions at home), and put on medications that left me suffering symptoms and withdrawals later on during the course of my life. when i was hospitalised the fifth time, a pyschiatrist suggested a diagnosis of bpd to me. when i expressed apprehension at the diagnosis, due to the stigma i was well aware of, the psychiatrist laughed in my face and said that my information was terribly outdated. since then, though i have attempted 5 times and forcibly held in psych wards and restrained and had my autonomy and privacy stripped from me for weeks at a time, that diagnosis of bpd has followed me like a spectre. a psychiatrist i saw while i was in the ICU recovering from a severe attempt, suggested that i was doing it for attention - despite my distress at being hospitalised and constant restraints and security guards being used to keep me there. a psychologist i saw asked if i was a pedophile when i mentioned that i had nightmares of my dad molesting me. another psychiatrist suggested that i was trying to ruin my father's life by talking candidly about the trauma that he has inflicted on me. when i attempt to exercise my autonomy by refusing to do as a psychologist wishes - such as saying that my neutral opinions of feminine clothes is not because i am brainwashed by my parents - or i express suicidal ideation, i am often threatened with institutionalisation or dismissed by psychologists as being 'a difficult case'. i have had social workers laugh at me and say that i'm just a bit anxious, as i am actively experiencing a flashback in front of them. when i stopped seeing a therapist once, she threatened to call the police on me - a autistic black person - because she believed that i didn't have the capacity to make that decision. when i have been in the hospital for unrelated medical issues, i have been met with suspicion and distrust over my account of my symptoms. and therapists and psychologists have fired me because when it came out that the crux of all of my problems is my combination of being disabled and unable to work and thus that the paltry sum that i receive from disability isn't enough to move out on, and that i can't support myself because i don't even have enough income to rent a sharehouse, they feel annoyed that i am wasting their time, as though i feel any better having dealt with this all my life.

this is very long, but ultimately my point is this. my experiences are not unique. to suggest that people critiquing therapy in all it forms are 'not empowered' to push back against their therapists, and that the discourse is just people hating or something, is so insensitive that i felt unwell reading yours and other peoples comments. somebody commented that 'sounds like anon was just looking for a progressive excuse not to engage with therapy' as though therapy is some universal good that has no reason to ever make anyone suspicious. anyone can have uneducated and uninformed positions. however my problem is that you do posit yourself as someone who is learned (whether you accept this characterisation or not!), someone who is empathetic, who is progressive, and who has experience in this field, and listens to those who have are oppressed in this world. your blasé defanging of therapy and its ills is a big letdown and very disappointing from someone who is often intellectually curious. i know you don't owe me or your readers anything, this is simply feedback, which i send to you and took the time to write because i think you deserve a frank response to that post. i simply feel that this is a topic where you have blind spots, and as someone with a PhD in psychology and who talks about a range of topics within it, i feel that this is not acceptable for me.

I mean, yes, yes! I think I have been very clear about my anti-psychiatry stance and have spoken at length about the abuses of the field, which I am in fact very aware of. Perhaps outside the context of that ongoing conversation, the post about therapy having some utility for some people seems to be overlooking things. Some people choose to access therapy and derive benefits from it, but that is only possible when a) it is their free choice to do so and b) they have the power to pushback against their therapist. Seeing an lcsw for social anxiety is reallllly different from being forcibly institutionalized and having to see a therapist in that context. I am not gonna issue a whole cloth declaration that all therapy is terrible for the same reason I never would for any drug, including psychiatric drugs that have been abused: because these things are tools people use for any number of reasons, and so we might as well approach it descriptively rather than prescriptively. But I do think it is important for people to hear stories like yours and to internalize how abusive psychiatry is, if they haven't already, so I am happy to share your ask for those who still need to internalize that message. This blog has been firmly anti psych since like 2012 and I do want that to be clear.

[st4rfckerz]

Church Mouse | Priest!Anakin Skywalker x reader

word count: 4.0k

warnings: MDNI 18+, blasphemy, age gap (reader is in her 20s), mild manipulation, infedelity, pet names, dubcon, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, virginity loss, rushed ending dead dove do not eat

summary: After confessing your sins to the priest, he encourages you to talk to him privately.

The sun shone brightly outside the church windows, casting warm rays across the peaceful town square. Birds sang melodiously in trees lining the peaceful avenue leading to the church building. Inside, candles flickered gently, casting warm light on the ornate wooden pews filled with devoted parishioners.

Many attendees wore their finest clothes as they listened intently to Father Anakin's sermons, occasionally whispering prayers under their breath or reaching for their rosaries. The scent of incense mixed pleasantly with perfume and cologne wafting through the air.

"Today's lesson is about finding solace in our faith during difficult times, we have all faced trials and tribulations throughout life, but remember that God is always with us, guiding us through these dark moments," he paused dramatically, letting the words sink in before adding. "Just like how I am here for you all, If anyone needs guidance or support outside of church hours, please don't hesitate to visit me personally."

The crowd applauded politely, some even raising their hands in praise.

Anakin stood tall and proud in front of his congregation, his hands resting gracefully atop each other in prayer position. "But first, let us pray," he began solemnly. Everyone followed suit, kneeling on their knees, and bowing their heads in unison. He led them in a heartfelt prayer asking for strength and guidance throughout the week ahead. Your eyes were closed tightly as you prayed fervently, the beads of you rosary clicking softly in rhythm with each breath you took.

The prayer ends and you raise your head. Anakin's warm eyes met yours briefly before returning his gaze to the congregation. "Remember, my dear friends, if you ever need someone to turn to in times of trouble or doubt, I am here for you. Now, let us proceed with the sermon." He said softly yet firmly.

Anakin's sermon lasted well beyond the usual hour mark, his words resonating deeply within you. He talked about sin and repentance, forgiveness and redemption. Each sentence seemed tailored specifically for you, hitting hard at places you didn't even know existed. His voice was mesmerizing, lulling you into a trance-like state where all you could think about was him.

After thanking everyone for attending church today, Anakin announced that confessionals would remain open for anyone who needed to speak with him privately. He urged those waiting outside the confessional booths to enter one by one. People started lining up outside the confessional booths, waiting patiently for their turn to unburden themselves.

You hesitated briefly, unsure whether you should go or not.

Finally, mustering up courage, you walked slowly towards the nearest booth, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

You couldn't help but notice how many women seemed particularly entranced by Father Anakin; they hung onto his every word during sermons and lingered longer than necessary after Mass ended. Some even approached him directly after services, seeking personal guidance or counsel.

When it was finally your turn, you nervously stepped inside the dimly lit booth. The thick wooden panel separated you from him, giving you some semblance of privacy. You hoped no one could hear what you were about to say.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned." You begin timidly.

You could hear his soothing voice responding softly, "What is it my child? Remember, here you can speak freely without fear of judgment." His deep baritone reverberated through the wooden walls, making your knees tremble slightly.

Unsure of how to begin, you struggled to find the right words. Your voice trembled slightly as you managed to spit out the confession that had been weighing heavily on your mind for days now.

"I had an encounter with a boy and it was wrong," You explain. "He touched me Father." The admission felt like a heavy stone being lifted off your chest, but also brought forth a wave of guilt and shame.

Your heart raced faster than ever before, and you could feel sweat forming on your palms as they clutched tightly onto the confession railing.

Anakin's eyes narrowed slightly, a slight frown creeping onto his otherwise serene face.

His warmth radiated off him like a furnace, making you feel as if you were melting in his presence. "And did you enjoy it?" he asked bluntly, his tone laced with curiosity rather than judgment.

Slightly taken aback you respond meekly, "No sir."

After a brief pause, he continued, his tone becoming more commanding. "Meet me in my office once everyone has left." With that cryptic statement, you hear his door open, signaling the end of confession time. After gathering yourself, you cautiously left the booth and returned to the previously vacant pew.

As everyone else left the almost empty church, you sat in silence and waited. The sun casted a warm, golden light through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the pews surrounding you. It was only you and a woman only a few years your senior. The woman's eyes lingered on Anakin hungrily as she waited for him to acknowledge her presence

The woman, dressed in a somewhat modest dress and heels, stood in front of Anakin. They engaged in conversation for several minutes, their voices low enough that you couldn't make out what they were discussing. Anakin gave you a small nod towards the hallway leading to his office, indicating you should wait outside while he finished up with the other woman. Reluctantly, you stepped into the empty hallway, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. Every step felt like walking on eggshells, and every sound echoed loudly in your ears. Finally, after what seemed like forever, you reach his office.

With haste, you slip inside and shut the door. You sat nervously in the chair, trying to compose yourself as you waited for Anakin to finish his conversation with the woman. The office itself was tastefully decorated, featuring a large wooden desk with numerous religious trinkets and pictures of Jesus Christ adorning the walls. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with volumes on religion, philosophy, and psychology. A large cross hung prominently above his desk, casting eerie shadows across the room.

The door creaked open, and Anakin stepped inside, closing and locking it behind him. His long legs striding confidently towards you as you remain sitting in your chair. Reaching out, he gently caressed your cheek with his warm palm, his fingers brushing against your jawline. His touch sent electric shockwaves through your body, making it hard for you to focus on anything but him.

"Did you enjoy today's sermon little lamb?" He asks softly.

"Yes Father," You managed to croak out, your voice cracking slightly. "It was very moving."

Anakin walks over to his desk and sits down across from you, his presence nearly overpowering as he leaned forward in his chair. His large frame loomed over you, making you feel small and insignificant yet simultaneously drawn to him.

"I noticed how attentive you've been during my sermons," he admitted with a slight smirk. "It's quite flattering, actually." You couldn't help but blush at his candid admission, feeling a strange mixture of embarrassment and excitement wash over you.

"Now, tell me more about this encounter you mentioned during confession," he said calmly, leaning forward slightly. His presence was suffocating yet strangely comforting, making it difficult for you to form coherent sentences. "What exactly happened between you and this boy?"

"W-well the other day me and this boy were studying together, and then he kissed me." you admitted sheepishly.

"Is that all he did?" Anakin pressed, his eyes boring into yours. His question caught you off guard, and you hesitated before answering truthfully.

"No sir, when we kissed he put his fingers...inside me." Your face flushed even brighter at your confession, and you felt heat rising in your chest. Anakin's expression remained unchanged, but you could feel the heat emanating from him intensifying.

"Was it consensual?" he asked bluntly, his eyes boring into yours.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. On one hand, you knew what you had done was wrong, but another part of you couldn't deny the thrill and excitement it brought you

"Yes Father," you whispered softly, barely audible above the ticking clock on his desk. You hung your head low in shame, tears threatening to spill over at the thought of betraying your faith. "But I didn't...you know." Anakin's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes searching yours intently. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze intensifying. Anakin paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully.

"You didn't have an orgasm." He stated bluntly, his tone devoid of judgment. You shake your head quickly, too embarrassed to speak again.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, his forearms resting on his knees. His icy blue eyes bore into yours, searching for some hidden truth that you refused to admit. "It's natural for a young woman like yourself to be curious about her body and sexuality," he said matter-of-factly. "But remember, these desires must be channeled appropriately. God created us with these urges, but we must learn to control them."

Anakin rose from his chair, towering over you as he extended a hand towards his own seat. "Please, sit," he commanded softly, his voice carrying an underlying command that left no room for refusal. You hesitantly stood up and walked tentatively towards him, your heart racing wildly in anticipation of what was to come.

Anakin stood behind you as you sat in his big, leather chair. He opened a large, leather-bound Bible on the desk, flipping through the pages until he found a particular passage. "Read this passage aloud for me," he commanded softly, his hands resting lightly on the arms of the chair. "I believe it might resonate with you." You cleared your throat and began to read the passage about self control, giving it your best effort despite the heavy breathing behind you.

"2 Peter 1:4 Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires." You read quietly. Anakin listened intently as you read the passage, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your nape and down your spine. With each touch, your brain became foggier, making it difficult for you to concentrate on the words written centuries ago.

"That's beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and husky. Anakin leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you understand what these words mean?" he whispers.

"Yes Father." You reply quietly. Anakin's fingers traced lower, brushing against your cleavage through your top. "Good girl," he praised, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine that these words are being spoken directly to you by God Himself."

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Imagine that He's telling you, 'My child, I love you unconditionally. You are mine, and no one else can ever take that away from you.' Do you feel it spreading throughout your body?" A surge of warmth washed over you like a tidal wave. It started at your feet and spread upwards, engulfing every inch of your body. You shivered in delight as goosebumps formed on your skin.

Anakin flipped the Bible page to another passage, his fingers brushing against yours lightly as he did so. "Now, read this one aloud for me, 1 Thessalonians 4:3-5" he commanded softly, his warm breath tickling your earlobe.

You obediently did as he commanded, trying hard not to focus on the growing arousal between your legs. You clear your throat and speak again.

"For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God."

As you read the passage, Anakin's lips traced slow, gentle kisses along your neck, his breath hot against your skin. Each touch ignited a fire within you, making it increasingly difficult to focus on the words written on the page. Anakin's lips reached your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're still pure, aren't you?" he asked softly, nipping lightly at your earlobe. "No one has ever claimed you like this before?" His hand reaches down and slides underneath your skirt, brushing his knuckles against your wet, cotton panties.

"Yes." you managed to choke out, your voice cracking with desire. Your body arched into his touch, begging for more. You bit your bottom lip hard, trying to suppress the moan escaping your throat as he continued to tease and torment you. You felt your resolve crumble beneath his relentless assault on your senses. His words had substance, they seemed so full of meaning. You were mesmerized.

Anakin groaned lowly, his voice low and husky. "I knew there was something special about you, my church mouse," he whispered in your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. Anakin's hand moved to the edge of your panties, his warm fingers pulling them to the side. His thumb teased your throbbing clit, circling around it slowly. "You weren't this wet when that boy touched you, were you?" he purred, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"N-no Father, I wasn't." you moan softly, unable to contain the growing need building inside of you. Anakin's fingers plunge into your aching cunt, moving in and out of your tight entrance slowly at first, his thumb still circling your sensitive nub. His breathing grew heavier, matching the rapid pace of your own as he continued to explore your most sacred parts.

"That's my girl," he praised, his voice laced with lust. "Feel how much you need me?"

You nodded vigorously, unable to form coherent words as his touch escalated. Each curl of his fingers inside your drooling cunt heightened your arousal, making it nearly impossible for you to concentrate on anything else. His touch was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before—it was both rough and tender, possessive yet caring. The combination of his power and gentleness left you feeling both terrified and exhilarated at the same time.

Soon your body tensed up, and you could feel your orgasm building rapidly. Anakin pulled his fingers out of your core just as you reached the brink of ecstasy, leaving you hanging on the edge of orgasm.

"No, why'd you stop?" you whine softly as you turn around to face him. You pouted, your lower lip quivering in frustration as he denied you the release you so desperately craved.

A smirk played at the corners of his lips. "Not yet, little lamb." he teased, his voice laced with power and control. Anakin stood up straight again, his erection straining against his pants. He pulled your chair back slightly, creating enough room for him to stand in front of you. His large frame loomed over you as he placed a hand on your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Anakin's eyes bore into yours, searching for any signs of hesitation or deceit. "Do you pray every night?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded earnestly, unable to hide the truth from him. "Yes, Father. I pray every night before bed." Anakin knelt down in front of you, his broad shoulders framing your body. His hands moved to rest on your knees, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over your skin.

"What do you pray for? What do you ask of God?" Anakin asks softly, his eyes searching yours intently.

You glanced down at your lap, unable to meet his piercing gaze. "I ask for strength and guidance, mostly." you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

Anakin's eyes narrowed slightly, studying your reaction. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice low and husky. "Good," His hand moved up your leg, lifting your skirt enough to expose your panty-clad pussy. "I can't help but notice how devoted you are during my sermons," he said, his voice dripping with false concern. "It would be a sin for me not to reward my favorite student.

With one swift motion, he yanked your panties down to your ankles, exposing your slick coated cunt to his hungry eyes. Anakin placed your leg on his shoulder, giving him better access to your now-exposed folds. His warm, wet tongue traced slow circles around your entrance before dipping inside, his tongue flicking against your sensitive spots with expert precision.

"Read again," he commanded, his voice mumbling against your warm flesh. "Proverbs 18:21."

You fumbled with the Bible, your hands shaking slightly as you tried to focus on the words written on its pages.

"The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit."

Anakin hums in approval against your mound, causing a rush of vibrations to flow through your body. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. Your grip tightened on his hair, pulling him closer, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp.

You whimpered, your body tensing up in anticipation of imminent orgasm. "Father, I-I feel it coming again." you managed to choke out between moans.

Anakin's hand moved to your entrance, two fingers slipping inside of you, stretching you wider. "That's it," he said, his voice low and husky. "Let go and let yourself succumb to His will."

A wave of pure ecstasy crashed over you, your entire body convulsed, and a string of lewd moans escaped your lips. Your orgasm was unlike anything you had ever experienced before—more intense, more powerful, and more fulfilling than any previous encounter. It felt as though the heavens themselves were opening up to claim your soul.

Anakin's tongue continued to lap up your juices, his eyes locked on yours as he savored the taste of your arousal. With a smirk, he stood up straight again, towering over you in all his glory. Anakin's eyes were ablaze with desire as he stood over you, his hardened cock straining against his pants.

"We're not quite done yet," he said, his voice low and raspy. "Stand up."

He reached down, undoing his pants and boxers in one swift motion, freeing his thick member from its confines. It stood tall and proud, glistening with pre-cum, its head flushed a deep crimson.

"Bend over," he ordered. Slowly, you stood up and turned around, your back facing him. Anakin's hands gripped your hips, positioning you over the desk. You felt his cock poking against your ass, and a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine.

Anakin's large, calloused hands gripped your firm ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading them roughly. His fingers traced slow circles around your puckered entrance before moving lower, teasing your wet folds. He held his member in his other hand, rubbing the head against your entrance, teasing you mercilessly. "Do you still want this sweet girl?"

You gave a soft, breathy moan of approval, your hips wiggling slightly in anticipation. Anakin's hand connected with your ass cheek, a sharp slap that made you yelp in surprise.

"Speak up."

You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure. "Yes, Father." you finally managed to utter, your voice trembling with need.

"There you go." he coos his voice filled with faux sincerity. "Now, relax and let me take care of you." Anakin's cockhead pushed past your tight entrance, stretching you slowly but surely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as he began to thrust into you with deliberate slowness, his hips rocking back and forth in a rhythmic motion.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly, nails digging into the wood as he claimed possession of you, filling you completely. After several deep thrusts, the initial pain subsided, replaced by an overwhelming wave of pleasure. Anakin's hands keep hold of your hips, holding you steady as he pounded into you, filling every crevice of your tight passage. Your moans turned into whimpers, becoming more desperate as he picked up speed, his tip kissed your sweet spot with precision.

"Thaaat's it, give yourself to Him, let him cleanse you." he managed to grunt out between gasps for breath.

Your hand slipped off the desk, accidentally knocking over a family photo frame that fell to the floor with a loud crash. Anakin didn't seem to notice or care, his focus entirely on claiming you, taking what he believed was rightfully his.

The tight coil in your stomach began to build up once more, and you knew it wouldn't be long now. You arched your back, your hips moving in sync with his, begging for release. His pace quickened, his breath hot against your neck as he growled out, "Cum for me angel, I know you're close." His words were like a trigger, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Anakin groaned, his hips bucking wildly as he felt your worn cunt clamp around him. With a final powerful thrust, he erupted inside you, filling you to the brim with his hot seed. His cock twitched and pulsed, draining every drop of his essence into you.

You collapsed against the desk, panting heavily, your entire body covered in sweat. Anakin leaned forward, his lips brushing against your shoulder. His cock slowly pulled out of your sore cunt, leaving you feeling empty and drained. He stepped back, admiring his work, his cock still semi-erect, dripping with your fluids. He extended a hand to help you steady yourself. Anakin turned to you, his eyes softening slightly. "Are you ok sweetheart?" he asked, concern etched on his features.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. " 'm fine," you managed to mutter, your voice hoarse.

"You did so good for me," Anakin panted, his eyes glazed over with fufillment. He helped you pull your panties back up your legs, his fingers brushing against your sensitive folds, causing a shiver to run through you.

Anakin sat back down in his chair, and motioned for you to sit on his lap. "Come here." he smiles. You tentatively approached him with wobbly legs, unsure of what he had in mind. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, so you were sitting sideways on his lap, your legs draped over his thighs. Anakin placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, his breath tickling your scalp. You remained like this for a moment, both caught in your own thoughts.

Breaking the silence, Anakin spoke softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your arm. "I want you to know something angel," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I would never hurt you, physically or otherwise. Our interactions are between us and God's eyes alone." You nodded, still processing everything that had transpired.

"If anyone ever finds out about today, we won't be able to see each other like this again." Anakin's hand tightened slightly, his fingers digging into your skin. "Do you understand me?" he asked, his voice taking on a threatening edge.

You nodded solemnly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand Father."

Anakin placed another soft kiss on your head before resting his cheek against your temple, his hand still firmly holding you in place.

"Good girl." he whispered.

Your eyes wander off and you suddenly see a cross hanging on the wall, the sight of it immediately brought an uneasy feeling to you. It felt like it was casting a small ominous and disapproving aura.

Uncertainty and confusion warred inside you, but there was also a strange sense of belonging and connection.

As you stare longer you feel as if it's judging you and looking at you as if it is not happy with what you have been doing.

You remain in his arms, you felt an odd mix of emotions, the sense of euphoria and bliss you felt with Anakin being so tender with you was overshadowed by the feeling of something not being right. You feel a tinge of regret for what you took part in but a part of you wants to do it again.

Maybe next Sunday.

[melanieph321]

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0

(DAY 2)

Riccardo Calafiori x Reader - Difficult Part 3/3

+18

Part 1 Part 2

Reader is the media manager for Bologna FC and is reluctantly paired up to help Riccardo Calafiori with interviews after a badly played match.

Enjoy!

It was strange. You spent the weekend believing that you were fired from your job, only to receive a phone call on Monday from your boss, asking you to come fly to Milano with him.

"So....why am I here exactly?" You asked, all dressed up and in a full face set with makeup.

"What do you think, I need help with the press." He insisted.

The Bologna FC annual charity event was held in honor of the teams own foundation. Donations were made throughout the year, but the annual charity event was a chance for sponsors to meet the players and the recipients of the granted scholarships that the foundation offered.

"I get that part, but why did I have to dress up?" Your boss had been awfully specific during your phone call. Especially when it came to which hotel you would be staying at, along with what attire you should wear for the big event (high heels, black dress).

"Y/N, hasn't anyone told you that asking too many questions can be perceived as rude?"

"No. Asking questions is my job. Your job too."

"For God's sakes."

You were pulled aside. Your boss spoke to you in hushed tones. "Don't let tonight fool you. If it was up to me, you'd be long gone, fired for the shit you pulled last week. However, a certain player may or may not have refused to appear in front of the press tonight unless you were present."

"Huh, who?"

"Oh, please. Don't act coy with me. I should have known that it was more to you and Calafiori. No one has managed to get him to attend these things, let alone speak to the press about the teams work with the foundation. Just make sure that your relationship is kept under wraps until the end of the season, will you?"

"Wait, what?" You were as confused as you had ever been. "Riccardo refused to attend the event unless I did so too?"

"Here we go again, Riccardo, Riccardo. How about you stick to addressing him by last name while he's here."

"He's here?"

"Jupp. He's coming this way too."

You turned around at the exact moment that Riccardo spotted you from across the room. A smile lit up his face as he set out to approach you.

"Just remember what I said." Your boss whispered. "Keep whatever is going on between you away from the press."

"How many times must I tell you? Nothing is going on between me and...."

"Y/N!"

"Riccardo!" At the moment of his appearance, your boss gave you one last stern look before slipping away.

"You made it." Riccardo said, sounding genuinely happy to see you. You had never seen him so dress up either, with his hair brushed back and set behind his ears. "I was hoping that your boss received the email that my assistant sent him."

"Yeah, about that. You were already quite set off from the crowd. However, you took the initiative to look for more privacy. Thankfully, Riccardo respected your wishes, following you into an empty salon decorated with flower ornaments and a grand piano.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" He asked, speaking to you with unrecognizable grace, as if the two of you were strangers yet acquainted.

"Yeah, please tell me whatta he'll is going on?"

He frowned.

"I was fired last week." You exclaimed. "From the shit you pulled at the press conference."

Riccardo regarded you curiously, a sly smile on his lips.

"And don't tell me that you haven't had a say in me being here, because my boss just told me that you do."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do. So please, for once, be honest with me."

"Honest?"

"Yes, be honest."

"Honestly....last week made me feel like shit. Not the part where I told those journalists to fuck off. They sincerely deserved that."

Your arms folded as you rolled your eyes.

"But, I do regret getting you fired Y/N. When I noticed you missing during the post interviews of last night's game, I realized that I fucked up and needed to make things right."

"And so you brought me here, to Milano?"

"Yes."

"But, why?"

"To apologize of course."

"Well, apology accepted. Can I go now?"

"Y/N, wait."

It was the first time that you touched. Riccardo, despreatly grabbing a hold of your wrist as you turned your back on him. "Don't leave." He said. No. Demanded.

You turned back around to find his eyes shamelessly eyeing you up and down.

"I cant't belive you wore it."

"Wore what?" You frowned.

"You're boss is a real push over, you know that right?"

"I do, but in what way are you..."

He pulled you towards him. With his hand around your wrist, you stumbled forward, Riccardo catching you in his arm. "He's a real bitch."

Your faces were inches apart. The tip of your nose, the bridge between your touching lips. You smiled. "I've never heard a grown man call another man a bitch before."

He smirked, a hand reaching to remove a hairstrand from your face. "Well, get used to it, baby. You're with me now."

"God, you're so difficult to work with."

"Difficult to work with, but easy to get in bed. There's always two sides to a coin."

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me already."

It was done in relief. The smacking lips and groping hands were all done to finally release the intense sexual tension between you. It had always been there, underlying, knocking on the surface. Riccardo felt it, and so did you. Hey, even your boss jinxed it. Now, the two of you were pushed up against a grand piano with Riccardo's large frame hovering over yours as he lifted you up and laid you down on top of it.

"Fuck me."

"Don't you want to me to play with you first?"

"Play? I'm a grown woman."

He laughed and proceeded to bend down and kiss you, his lips wet and soft against your own.

Who knew that all that hot-headed temper would be put to good use. Riccardo was a fair enough football player but an even better lover. He insisted on taking care of you first, refusing for you to reach for his belt. At least not until he had you arching your back on top of the piano, begging him to stop eating you out.

"No." He chuckled, as you squirmed on top of the piano.

"Please. I'm making a mess."  Being a mess was the correct term. Once Riccardo detached his lips from between your legs, you made the effort to pat down your tousled hair, as well as wipe off any smudge lipstick.

"I hate you." You said. To which he grinned.

"No, you don't. I'm just difficult to work with."

Part 1 Part 2

[hatoheart]

hey so I’ve said before I prefer to keep my blog a drama free place but

Oh well. It’s my blog and I can break my own rules as I see fit lol.

My background with Lily Orchard: I had been a fan since about summer 2019 (20 years old, I was born December 12, 1998) and had heard her talk about the various abuse she claims to have gone through throughout her life. With no reason to believe otherwise, I just accepted this. I bought into everything she said when allegations came out against her because I had already anchored my beliefs to things she’d said. It’s hard to dismantle beliefs that are so ingrained in you.

In June 2024 I made a tumblr post asking for actual evidence, and to be fair, I had plenty of people come to me in good faith. Unfortunately, I was unwilling to believe a lot of what I was sent, parroting the same excuses for them I’d heard Lily use. I like to think of myself as someone who’s objective and looks at things from every side, and yeah, I’ll fully admit I was not doing that at all here. I got dunked on a bit, rightfully so.

I was a member of Lily’s Patreon server from June-September 2024 (I only just joined Patreon itself in June 2024). I started as a $1 Patron before bumping up to a $5 Patron for access to the Patron chat. I wouldn’t say I was especially close to Lily, I certainly wasn’t part of her “inner circle”, and got reprimanded by her a few times for various minor things, but ultimately she trusted me enough to let me into the private “server regulars” chat she implemented a week or so before I left.

The first major crack came when she used me venting in her stream chat about my beef with KP as an excuse to drop her and Sai’s full names. I did not at all endorse that and was actually quite pissed at her for doing that. I value my privacy a lot, and I try to extend that courtesy to everyone else I come across online. I’ve got plenty of good friends online and I couldn’t tell you the real-life names of about 90% of them.

Ultimately, the incest game folder was the major incident that got me thinking. She did her best to debunk it, but it was just… such a flimsy excuse? It seemed like she was desperate to cover it up. I don’t know, I’d bought into plenty of things she’d said in the past, but this seemed… unbelievable. So after spending a few days conflicted, I looked back into the evidence I’d been given months prior. And it was… a lot. I lashed out at some people trying to help me during this time, and blocked someone who’d been very cordial to me in DMs. I was stuck. I didn’t know what to believe. I suppose you could say this was my breaking point.

Ultimately the evidence did prove overwhelming, so on September 13th, 2024, I quietly left Lily’s community. No big statement, no fuss, just quietly retracted my Patreon sub, unfollowed on tumblr, and unsubscribed on YouTube. I’ve been quiet for the past month, give or take.

And man, has hindsight been 20/20.

She frames everything as “my boundaries tho” so that she can excuse being rude to her fans. She consistently denies Tara Callie/Stockholm and other wrongdoings without any proof to back up her claims.

I’ve watched KP and Courtney’s videos. I’ve looked at Britt’s evidence. I’ve privately made amends with all three of them.

I had already planned on watching Joon the King’s video when it released. I was a fan of his prior and figured if he was covering Lily… then there must be something I was ignoring.

Part of the reason it can be so difficult to look into Lily’s past is because the resources aren’t neatly gathered in one place. Joon’s video does just that. An easily digestible resource for people to get the gist of who she is.

And I’m sorry to anyone I may have hurt on her behalf. I am not claiming to be innocent here, I knowingly dug my heels in while claiming to want evidence, and then refused to look at it. I’m sorry for the rancid shit I’ve said and done to people in defense of Lily.

But I’ve opened my eyes. I’ve stopped hiding from the truth.

I’m not going to discuss this further, as I’ve said I prefer to keep my blog a fairly lighthearted place for me to hyperfixate and shitpost. I’m not interested in dunking on Lily or harassing her (please don’t harass her), but just being transparent and letting everyone know where I stand as of right now. This needed to be said eventually.

[lemotmo]

Oh my god PSA, please don't do that, EVER! Protect your identity! As for all the other asks, hahahaha, color me surprised.

Q. So they're not not cute. Whatever.

Q. I was told hating Eddie was necessary and easy but I was in that man's side the entire episode. I don't know what to do with myself. Seriously I'm a little stunned.

Q. I hate that I absolutely get it after that episode. Their chemistry is definitely tangible.

Q. Shit fine if I'm going to do this do I need season 1 or can I go straight to season 2 when Eddie arrives? Your blog makes it sound like I need to watch season 1.

Q. I get the hype. I think I might actually want to watch this unfold because their chemistry really is wild, but it will be difficult to break away from the Tommy stuff because they have my personal email and I get daily reminders to post something. I haven't posted anything since Thursday morning and I get nearly hourly emails telling me I'm behind and need to step up. I don't know what to do.

A. Okay I lumped these asks all together because I have many, many variations of all these currently sitting in my ask box. I'm honestly not surprised that many of you are finally aware, or willing to acknowledge, that their chemistry really is unlike anything else. It's okay to let yourself enjoy it. I promise it's better. If you are going to watch the entire series now then you cannot skip season 1. I know lots of people don't like Buck in season 1, I personally find that blasphemous because that is my lost baby and I would commit crimes for that himbo, but it also provides context for the Bobby, Athena, Chimney(!) and Hen. Season one is necessary. Go and enjoy it.

To the anon who sent the ask about the email. Change your email address and change it now. There is no one, NO ONE in charge of running a fandom. Your fandom experience is your own, and there is no fandom that has an executive branch setting laws everyone else must follow. Fandom is not a job, or a government. It's bullshit fun. And anyone who tries to make you believe it should be something else is lying to you. No matter what fandom spaces you choose to occupy in the future you keep anything about your real life identity out of those spaces. Period. If you make friends within that fandom and mutually choose to take that friendship into the real world then that's an entirely different thing, but don't EVER give anyone your personal information because that's not how fandoms work. And unfortunately the harassment will probably get worse. Yes it will be a pain in the ass to change your email address, you can of course try blocking but who knows how many people have that information now. At this point it's about protecting your peace of mind and your real life identity. There is no fandom experience worth your mental health or real life privacy. They're not your friends. Protect yourself and go. Please feel free to message me if you have anything else you would like to ask or discuss 🩷

Thank you Nonny! As always much appreciated.

Okay... yeah, once you open yourself up to see the Buddie chemistry, there is really no way back. I can understand that people who started watching during season 7, because of biBuck and BT, needed some time to adjust to the fact that BT was just a stepping stone for Buddie.

If you've never seen all the other seasons and only started in 7x04, you have no other context than BT. As soon as you see Buck and Eddie acting and reacting all naturally together it just hits you how the chemistry flows between them.

So trust me, if there's anyone reading this that started watching in 7x04 and 8x09 got you curious about Buddie? Please, start watching from season 1 on. It's like Ali said... there is a lot of important back story in season 1. And yes, I am one of these people who didn't like Buck at all in those first episodes of season 1 when I watched it for the first time.🫣 Sorry Ali! But I love him now though, because now I understand why he acted the way he did during that season.

As for the person who is being stalked through email. Follow Ali's advice IMMEDIATELY! Remember people, NEVER give a stranger on the Internet your real life information unless it's someone you have known for a long time and you know you can trust them 100%. I have been in fandom spaces for 25 years now and, for the most part, I've always kept my private life and my fandom life strictly seperated.

If you have to give someone your email address for something, just create a new one you can easily get rid of if necessary. Use that email address strictly for fandom stuff and nothing else. Make sure that your real name is nowhere to be found in the email name itself.

Also, people emailing you and telling you that you need to post and step it up? That is very concerning to me. It borders on cultish behaviour, definitely not fandom behaviour. It is NOT normal. In all of my years in fandom, I have never encountered this kind of stalkerish behaviour. Fandom is supposed to be fun, it isn't supposed to be a chore and give you anxiety like this.

Please get rid of that email address, create a new one, start over again and join us here in the Buddie fandom. I know that you were told a lot of lies about our fandom and how terrible we are, but I promise you that most of us here on Tumblr are actually really nice and a lot of the things that you were told by these cult people? They were blatant lies.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[laraali8]

Please help me and my family from this damn war and help me spread my campaign and donate for us🥺🍉

●Hello everyone, I am Lara, 20 years old, studying software engineering👩‍💻. I was supposed to be in my third year and I was about to become an engineer until the damned destruction came and destroyed our lives, our future and our memories...

I want to share with you my story and my family's in this war🥺🍉💔

●In October, my family and I were displaced after the occupation spread leaflets and asked us to evacuate to the south. My family and I were displaced to Nusairat in a school and lived there for 3 months (where we lived 50 people in one row, imagine the number of people!! There was no privacy, no comfort, no sleep due to the heavy shelling. We also suffered from a flour crisis and a lot of suffering...)

●Then the school became unsafe. The occupation threw leaflets to evacuate the school and bombed and shelled us. Then we were displaced to Khan Yunis and spent days sleeping in the street until they donated a tent for us

(you know what it means for 8 people to live, my mother, father and sisters in a small tent... and here begins another suffering for my family, where there is no privacy, no cleanliness, no None of the necessities of life were present)

●We stayed in Khan Yunis for two months until the occupation used the tents of the displaced and our tent was hit by shrapnel, and my sisters and I sustained serious injuries. Then another suffering begins with displacement to another place. We were displaced to Deir al-Balah in a nylon tent on the beach that did not protect us from the cold of winter, the harsh air, the rain, the insects, or anything else.

《 At that time, our neighbor heard the news that the occupation had completely destroyed our neighborhood. Our house was destroyed, and with it our dreams, our children, and our future were destroyedAnd now we are homeless》

● Now we are suffering from high prices of food, flour, and detergents. We live on the tekke. We have no source of income (because my father's profession before the war was daily, and now he has lost his job and cannot work because he has become ill).

☆ Now I find myself in a position where I must humbly ask for your support for me and my family, to provide them with food and clothes because our clothes are worn out, and to obtain the simplest necessities of life that the occupation has prevented us from obtaining

☆ Every donation, no matter how small, will make a big difference in helping us rebuild our lives and provide necessities for my family. We are in a fragile situation, and your support during these extremely difficult times will give us hope in the midst of despair. Your generosity will not only help us get food and the necessities of life again, but will also restore our faith in the kindness of humanity.🥺🙏

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #241 )✅️

Please donate and share my campaign 😭👇

[spectersgirl]

"Harvey is dating a really famous actress or singer (like Taylor Swift). People think he's just a playboy but Harvey and her has been secretly been dating for a while but kept it a secret due to her fame. Maybe have a relationship reveal when he shows up at her concert or Harvey introduces her during a company holiday party."

I got this request in my messages! I love this prompt because I'm currently loving the Taylor Swift Travis Kelce moment going on.

-------

If You're Ready, I'm Ready

Harvey Specter x Reader

You peeked out the window of your large Manhattan apartment, waiting to see a particular black Lexus pull up out front. You were one of the most famous musicians in the world, which sometimes could mean rather unpleasant interactions, so to see your boyfriend, New York's most respected lawyer Harvey Specter, you had to sneak around at night. The stakes of it all were exhilarating, despite how difficult it could sometimes be. It was sexy, it was fun, and it reminded you of sneaking out as a teenager.

When you finally did see the car, you couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face. You quickly threw on a baseball cap and sneakers, trying to look as normal as you possibly could before calling the elevator to head downstairs.

The driver was waiting at the back door of the car, one hand on the handle when you got there. The windows were almost completely blacked out, so you didn't know your boyfriend was waiting for you in the car too.

"Surprise, beautiful." He said, a dazzling smile on his face. He pulled a bouquet of flowers from the seat next to him and handed it to you once the car door was closed.

You placed a hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes for a moment before kissing him deeply.

"These are gorgeous, what're they for?" You asked once you pulled away.

"They're just a little something to show you how proud I am of you. You sold out MSG, that's a huge deal!"

You smiled softly, blushing. The butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. Harvey meant the world to you, and hearing he was proud of you made your heart swell in your chest. You weren’t used to guys actually caring about you. You’d gone through your fair share of fuckboys and clout chasers in your time, but Harvey was… completely different.

With the guys that had come before, you'd gone too public too quickly, giving you the reputation of that girl that dates around and can't keep a man. The reality of it was that you were simply looking for your person. Despite the facade he puts on in his work and the decently large number of girls he’d been with in his past, Harvey was a really great guy. He always went at your pace, showed you how proud he was of your successes, and was a total gentleman.

You had finally decided that you were ready to take away that little bubble of privacy you'd hidden behind for the last year since meeting Harvey. You were tired of the sneaking around and hiding him away. You finally wanted to show him off to the world, show everyone you were, in fact, capable of picking a good one. The truth of it all was that you were scared. Scared for him, scared for you, scared for what it could all mean for your relationship. Once the public knew about him, they’d never leave him alone. You sighed slightly, a sad smile replacing your formerly happy one. You wished it didn't have to be like this, and you knew Harvey didn't mind doing whatever you felt was best, but you didn't want to lose him because you had to keep hiding. You were snapped out of your thoughts when his hand softly stroked your upper leg.

“Hey, what’s wrong Y/N? Did something happen?” Harvey asked, genuine worry taking over his features.

“Oh, no. It’s… I’m fine. I'm just thinking about how I think... I think I'm ready. Want to show everyone how sweet and handsome my man is.” You told him, absentmindedly rubbing the top of his hand.

“Y/N, any time you want to do that, you know I’m on board. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m down for.” He reassured.

"I know, and I love and appreciate you for that, I'm just scared. Once they find out about you... they'll never leave you alone. They'll be all over you all the time, and not just because they'll see how handsome you are" You said, trying to curb your own worries.

It was Harvey's turn to give you a sad smile now. He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head, softly rubbing your arm in comfort.

"Honey, to be honest with you, I really don't care. I love you, that's all I care about. Whatever happens out there, whatever they do to me, doesn't affect what we have. Okay? I want what you want, so if you're ready, I'm ready. If you want to wait, that's okay too."

You had tears falling down your cheeks now, he was really the most perfect man you'd ever met. He brought a thumb up to wipe your tears away.

"These are happy tears I hope?" He said, a teasing grin on his face.

You nodded, giggling.

"That they are. I just don't know how I got so lucky. You've been so good to me, I just love you so much. Thank you for being patient with me."

"Every bit of you is worth the wait. No matter how long the wait is." He said, placing a kiss on your lips.

Once you pulled away, slightly breathless, you got an idea.

"Hey, I have a red carpet this weekend, would you want to come with me?" "Y/N, are you asking me to be your date?"

"That depends on what your answer is"

"Of course I'll be your date. I'll wear my best tux, I wouldn't want the world thinking you're dating some slob in an ill-fitting suit."

This made you laugh, knowing how seriously Harvey took his attire.

"I wouldn't expect anything less, my love. Now come here and kiss me again"

"Your wish is my command, my pretty girl."

[siddyyyyyyyy]

University Romance

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish x fem!Reader

part four; three, two, one

!MDNI!

wc: 2.1 K

summary: You and Johnny are two professors at a university, and he often catches you working late in your office. Also, you're just really good friends and there's probably more to it.

warnings: 'crazy' chemistry professor Soap, no y/n used, Johnny and Reader are about the same age, hickeys, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: welcome to the final part of it! decided to spoil you guys a little bit with smut, I'm tired from their constant pining, so here you go. Enjoy!

The restaurant looked actually really cosy from the outside as you‘re waiting for Johnny to arrive. After not even a minute, he shows up and looks absolutely handsome. You don‘t remember the last time you‘ve seen him in more formal clothing, the formal yet casual attire brings out his well-sculpted muscles. Trying not to stare, you pretend to check your phone for any messages before he is right in front of you, tapping your shoulder with a small smile.

»You there? Please don‘t tell me you‘re gonna spend the entire time looking at your phone. You‘re gonna miss out on the view.«

What is he doing to you? Is this on purpose? Is he still standing in front of you? Judging from the way his subtle cologne still wavers in the air, he is still standing right in front of you. With a small sigh to ease your nerves, you put your phone away into your purse, mustering your eyes at him.

»Relax, I‘m not missing out on our hangout.« You answer back with a small smile and notice his expression falter for a moment at your words. He recovers quick though, and you both get inside the new restaurant, being greeted by dim lights that create a warm and cosy atmosphere around. The waiter leads you both to a table for two in a far corner, glad you can have some sort of privacy in that corner.

You were about to sit down when he gets behind you, pulling the chair out for you, doing the overly cheesy gentleman move. It forces a small chuckle out of you, trying to tell him that you can do this yourself, but he doesn‘t care. You really try not to think too much about it and just see it as a friendly way of messing with each other, but he seems completely serious about it.

Okay, you are confused. He is claiming he will pay for everything tonight, so don‘t bother taking your purse out at all. What is this about? Did he do something and is trying to cover it up by being so sweet? There‘s no way, he is doing too much.

»Sorry, did I miss something? What is this all about?«

You finally manage to ask during the dinner, the food on the table being the only thing actually calming your nerves and making it seem like a normal hangout to you.

»What? Nothing, what do you mean? I‘m just treating you tonight.«

Obviously, you don‘t buy it and tilt your head at him, making him purse his lips almost sheepishly.

»Okay, be honest, Johnny. You‘re being too sweet right now.«

Your table falls into a brief moment of silence; the background noises from the other guests eating and talking fill the silence softly.

»I‘m.. I am bad at this, but I actually tried to ask you out. Back then, at your dad after the grill. This was supposed to be a date, but I guess I didn‘t express myself correctly.«

Processing his words is difficult. He tried to ask you out, and you were too stupid to realise. This is your love life, wow. It could also very well be a very bad romcom. It‘s humiliating, really.

»We don‘t need to pretend this is a date though, I probably overstepped with being… so overbearing.«

»No! No, don‘t apologise, I should be the one to apologise. Actually, now that I think about it, I missed so many signs...«

Johnny‘s heart beats probably faster than a racing car drives as he listens to you, trying to focus on the words you say instead of focussing on how gorgeous you look in the dim light right now. Finally, he snaps back and tries to reassure you, a sheepish and dorky smile threatening to form on his face.

»It‘s totally fine, I‘m a patient man after all.« His audacity to throw a little tease into this is unmatched. But it helps to ease the tension and bring a small smile onto your face, looking down to your lap for a moment.

»So, this was a date all along?«

He nods slowly at your question, watching your reaction closely as he does so. You‘re not sure who is more nervous at the moment, feeling like a high school couple right now.

»Well, if you‘re not comfortable- «

»No, no, I‘m okay with that! Promise.«

Johnny smile brightens, and for a moment, he is unsure of what to do or say next. The silence doesn‘t last long though, as you get to talk more freely with each other once it‘s settled, feeling butterlies across your whole body the entire time. It‘s such a nice feeling to know someone you certainly cherish and care for feels the same about you and probably even more. The rest of the dinner is spent with more loving looks and soft gazes, lingering touches on each other‘s hands over the table, resulting in following him back to his home.

----

Big hands cup your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you to his bedroom, not wasting any time on exploring your soft lips with his own. He doesn‘t care that he is being a little messy with you, it feels perfect and right to be with you like this. With a soft thud, you land on the cushions of his bed, enveloping you in the faint scent of his cologne and the distinct smell of the musky but inviting smell of him. It‘s enough to get you going even more, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck to keep him as close as possible while making out. Your lips move against the other in a rather frantic rhythm, subtle sounds of lips smacking echoing in the dark room.

With a small sigh, he breaks the kiss and trails his lips down your throat; leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on your delicate skin. You loose your grip around his neck, trailing your hands down his arms, all the way to his shoulder blades. It leaves goosebumps and electrifying shockwaves through him, resulting in him groaning lowly against your neck. That, however, only caused for you to shiver lightly and attempt not to hum back in response.

His kisses trail down to your collabones, gently gracing his teeth against the sensitive skin before tugging at your collar and works on unbuttoning your shirt. Of course you let him, helping him with the process, starting to get impatient and wanting more from him. His touch is addicting, his scent is intoxicating and the way he feels against your body… you can‘t get enough.

Soon, you are both almost fully exposed, Johnny hovering over you again, and trying to keep at least a little of his sanity under control.

»Tell me, how bad do you want me?«

»Johnny, not now...« You sigh out, hands trailing up his well-built chest, sounding way more needy than you wanted to be.

»Impatient, hm? Just tell me you need me. Please.« He also sounds more desperate than you‘ve ever heard him speak, especially to you. What he demands only makes your cheeks grow even more rosy, putting on a darker tint of pink across your face. Thankfully the room is fairly dark, even though you wish you could see more of him.

»Need you, Johnny...now.«

It seems like he crumbles at your words, resting his forehead against your shoulder before he collects himself and moves down your body.

»Fuck, always wanted to hear tha‘ from you.« He mutters as he traces his hands down your bare sides, settling down between your legs and gently pries them apart. You lean up on your elbows to watch, feeling another rush of adrenaline at him being right in between your legs, feeling his hot breath against your legs and aching core.

His fingers tease at the seam of your panties, eyes focused on your whole form. The material of your panties are more than soaked after all the making out and hot touches across your body, not sure how long you will last with him like this.

Your thighs are being pushed back with his hands after discarding your last piece of clothing, laying down flat on your back for him. He wants as much access as possible on you, humming lowly at the sight of your dripping cunt. A sharp gasp leaves you as soon as his tongue meets the sweet and messy bundle of nerves, bucking your hips into him without meaning to. More gasps and pants leave you as he gets more intense, his tongue pushing and putting more pressure against you, making you a breathless mess underneath him. You grip tightly onto his sheets, thighs trembling around his head.

He seems like a madman, thirsty for any amount of slick he can slurp from you, the sounds becoming more obscene and embarrassing for you. Johnny doesn‘t mind one bit, in fact he seems to be enjoying this more than you. Finally getting to taste you, smell you, please you as he dreamed of.

His big hands tighten their grip around your thighs, making sure you don‘t clamp your legs around his head and suffocate him. Even when he would be more than happy to die that way…

It feels like you are growing closer to edge, moans getting high-pitched while one hand finds his head, urging him to keep going.

Johnny groans against you, nose nudging against your clit as his tongue works on you and brings you over the edge. With a final thrust of his tongue, you gasp and clamp around nothing, your grip around the sheets being even stronger than before. You become a babbling mess, thanking him and saying something about feeling good while you bask in the shockwaves of the climax, moaning and shaking under him.

Johnny lets you ride out your high on his tongue, probably as satisfied as you, if not more. He cleans up any cum that drips from you, making sure there is nothing left, even when he still wants to lap at you even then.

»You okay?« He asks more softly and massages your thighs gently, watching your fucked out expression as come down from your high. You can‘t respond verbally, but you give him a thumbs up, receiving an amused snort from him. He moves off from between your legs and settles on the bed beside you, brushing out some hair sticking to your forehead.

Once he lays down beside you, you realise that only you received pleasure. You want to make him feel good too.

»We can… go on. If you want.« Johnny snaps out of his stare, his hand still resting by your stomach as he traces small circles into it.

»No need to. I don‘t have any protection with me anyway.«

You‘re not sure why, but you feel slightly disappointed at his words. But that he is responsible enough and neglects his own pleasure for both of your safety is enough to warm your heart again in a strange way.

You end up falling asleep after he cleans the mess up from between your legs, cuddling up in each other‘s arms, under the comfort of his blanket. And that was probably the best sleep you‘ve ever had, safe in his warm embrace after he took such good care of you.

----

The next morning, you wake up to Johnny sleeping over your whole body, legs entangled with yours, and arms trapping you underneath him. You trail your hands up and down his back, nails lightly scratching against his bare skin, which causes him to stirr lightly.

After some longer moments, he seems to finally wake up and shift on top of you to get comfortable again.

»You are heavy.« You mumble out from underneath him, making him let out a groggy groan as he rolls off you but keeps his arm over your middle. The room is quiet again, save for the slow and gentle breathing from both of you.

»What time is it?« Johnny huffs out as you crawl over him to his nightstand, taking a look at the digital clock on it.

9:53 AM

No way. You overslept. Both, for that matter.

»John- Johnny, c‘mon, we need to get ready.«

You urge hushed, shaking his shoulder with your hand as you sit up beside him. He doesn‘t move as much though and only grumbles something under his breath before he searches his hand for you. He manages to grip your thigh gently, squeezing softly in a lazy attempt to calm you.

»Relax… no one cares anyway, and you never missed a day before.«

He mumbles softly, still laying on his stomach, but eyes on you. ----

Redcrest High University, Monday 9:53 AM

»Seems like those two won‘t appear today, huh?«

»Finally. I was getting sick just from watching Mctavish‘s puppy eyes. Good thing they are catching a break.«

Professor Garrick answers to the biology prof, earning a nod from the other. ----

Johnny‘s bed, Moday 9:54 AM

You soften at his touch and words, sighing out and finally settle down beside him once more.

»Don‘t tell me you wouldn‘t want to spend more time with me and instead go to work.« He shifts to get closer, pulling you close to his chest. His words make you shake your head, nuzzling into him in return.

»Wouldn‘t dream of it.«

You mumble back softly to him, making him smile and squeeze your waist with his arms.

a/n: I really hope you enjoyed this very small series, I didn't plan on writing some smut, but decided it would only be fair and also wanted to try out how well I can write that (it was really hard typing with one hand okay). thanks for reading!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not texting my friend?

To be clear I have no intention of cutting off this person, I will not block or ghost them, and if they text me I WILL answer and not be dry or lame about it.

I just won't be the one to start any conversations.

Moving on:

The story is super complicated but I'll try to keep it coherent.

Three people in the story (fake names):

Me (20)

Alex (16) - friend

Luck (16) - younger sibling We are all the same gender.

Something to keep in mind about me: I have always been very sheltered, naive and distracted, people have told me so and the more I learn the more I realize how ignorant I am. So I have very little experience, perception and knowledge of worldly things. This makes it difficult for me to keep up with people my age and I spend most of my focus on stories I like to write. It's not an excuse for anything and I'm actively working to be better.

Something that doesn't contribute much to the story but may be nice to know: Pretty much everything happens online, I've only met Alex in person like 4 times for birthday parties and stuff.

Now the story: I met Alex three years ago during covid when I was doing school online (I was 17 and Alex and Luck were 13). I was introduced to Alex through my younger sibling. Luck added me to a group chat with a bunch of their classmates, and I got popular really fast. Alex took a particular liking to me, because they thought i was funny and we had many of the same hobbies. So Alex was the first of Luck's friends to start a chat with me directly. Alex was always online and so was I, so we ended up talking alot, like all the time. I noticed Luck got kind of jealous, and that was when I began to wonder if the friendship was right, but I did nothing about it.

Eventually Alex and I started writing a story together, it's something I try to do with all of my close friends and we got really into it. A big rule that I have is that the real world and fiction are separate, under no circumstances are they to entertwine, especially emotionally (ex. I have never and will never insert myself in a story or daydream, not even if reality sucks for me at that time) Alex was different, they got attached to the characters. So there I am, obsessed with progressing the story's plot, and I kill off one of my characters. Alex expresses discontent, but not much. It's through Luck that I find out later that Alex had been crying about it for days. I felt bad and brought the character back, and life went on.

A year and a half into our friendship and Luck seems to have gotten over her jealousy, while Alex and I spend more time writing and focusing on the story than anything else. There are some signs in the rare times that Alex and I talk about life that it become apparent that Alex is going through a rough time, but I don't think too much about it since the story is all that's on my mind. On top of this there's school and whatever.

One day Alex starts asking for breaks from story writing and plotting, and I agree without a fuss. It gets me thinking a bit more, and after a couple more days during a conversation about the real world Alex sends a long paragraph about how horrible things are. (I won't explain what exactly these horrible things were for privacy reasons) Now I realize how inconsiderate I've been so far and I tell Alex that I'm there to support them in whatever they need. I spend pretty much all of the next year texting them every hour of every day and this is what happens:

At the beginning of our friendship our conversations flowed wonderfully, we shared our achievements and showed genuine interest in each other's lives. But things changed and by this point In the story our conversations go like so:

Me: (asks a question) Alex: (responds) Me: (reacts to response) Alex: (dry response) -Repeat infinitely-

Aside from that we would always say goodnight and Goodmorning to each other.

One time. Only one. Alex texted me asking for help and I didn't see the message until hours later. I never really forgave myself for that.

At this point I'm 19 and Alex is 15, and it suddenly crosses my mind how our friendship might be perceived by others. I considered Alex another younger sibling, but with all the crazy things happening in the world I wondered what others would think. In the end I concluded that Alex needed me and it didn't matter. So life goes on. My entire life revolves around helping Alex, when I'm not texting them I am worrying, my own problems come second. My whole family thinks I'm addicted to my phone. I'm always tired and stressed. The stories were put on pause.

Time passes and soon I'm turning twenty. I'm starting to think I can't do it anymore, our friendship has turned kind of codependent (I didn't even know what that was until a month ago). I consider ghosting many times, changing my number, blocking, but only for a couple minutes at a time and I always hate myself for thinking it afterwards. I keep talking to Alex, but sometimes I'll answer a bit slower. Let them wait 3-5 minutes instead of 1-2, if I really steel myself I can hold back for 7 minutes.

One day without warning Alex doesn't text me at all. They've dissapeared before but never without sending a quick message to let me know about it, not until this day. Their status also worries me, only one word: "gone". There I am internally freaking out, losing it, trying to come up with reasons for which everything is fine. I don't ask Luck if they know anything because I know they'll get annoyed. It's not until late the next day that Alex lets me know they went a roadtrip. I tell them "I was worried lol" and immediately they ask why. I wasn't expecting an apology but the question struck me as weird, so I was reluctant to answer. Alex pushes for an answer, they haven't been this interested in what I've had to say for years. I with horror I realize that they liked that i was worried, they wanted to milk it as much as they could. I understand that people need validation, but I was already constantly complementing Alex and telling them how important they were. The fact that they preferred my panic (though in Alex's defense I never told them I was panicking) hit me hard. I didn't elaborate on why I was worried. Alex got upset. And i spent the next hour sobbing over my phone, realizing i needed some distance.

I started slow. I wouldn't say goodnight somedays, others I would forgo a Goodmorning, but I always answered (I swore to myself never to leave Alex on read). I went on a trip and I decided I would enjoy it for once, so I let Alex know i couldn't text much. Nevertheless this lack of contact didn't keep me from worrying and wondering endlessly.

After the trip we kept texting less, we expressed missing each other but neither of us did too much to keep things going. I tried to focus on my in-person relationships, and friendships with people my age. I went back to stories and published a novella.

Nowadays Alex and I talk maybe once every week and a half. The conversations are excruciating. Alex tells me how things still suck, my usual words of comfort seem to mean nothing to either of us anymore. Alex leaves me on read as soon as the conversation goes dry, usually after ten minutes worth of conversation, sometimes over the span of many hours. We don't talk again until I cave in and say hello. Then a couple days later Alex says hello. And then it's up to me again, and every time I tell myself I won't do it.

Luck has told me their opinion of Alex, they saw way before I did how self-centered Alex is. The thing is Alex doesn't do it on purpose, I am entirely sure of that and so is Luck. Luck treats Alex nicely but they're out of touch, more than I am. I am not mad at Alex. I still care deeply for them, but I feel like there's nothing I can do andour old dynamic just hurts both of us. Cutting them off is not an option, they're just a kid and I'm better than that. So I just don't start a conversation.

A couple days ago Alex texted me (even though it was my unspoken turn to text first) and we talked, and the conversation wasn't dry at all, and it wasn't that painful to deal with. They showed interest in my life and shared some sad stuff but also happy stuff about theirs, and it felt like old times. We texted the entire day. At one point the they mentioned that I could text them whenever I wanted, and I felt an underlying petition that I do. The conversation went on and eventually they left me on read the next morning when I answered a message from the night before.

Ever since then I've been actively holding back from texting them but I can't help but wonder if I'm a jerk for it.

These aren't even all the factors but this post has gotten too long lol.

So AITA?

[lordgoretash]

HELLO HAPPY FRIDAY

Please accept ❛ nothing holds, and all things change, given time. ❜ for Hector? I'm fascinated by Hector I want to know everything about this oc. (Am I considering making Hector friends with my oc only in the privacy of my mind? Yes I am. I'm so sorry)

(That's the best compliment one of my OCs could get!)

Hector and a very recently Tranquil!Jowan, set after Redcliffe and Broken Circle, but still during Origins. Prompt fill for @dadrunkwriting

“Mage!” one of the Templars called to Hector, not bothering with his name, or maybe not remembering it.

“Ser?”

“You’re the one that likes Tranquil, right?” The way the Templar said it, the insinuation in his tone, made Hector’s skin crawl even if the words were accurate. He was the only mage he knew of in the tower who counted Tranquil as friends rather than mourning them for dead. “We got a new one,” he continued without waiting for an answer. “Show ‘em where the Tranquil quarters are and… assign ‘em a job or something.”

Another one. The third in as many months. Between Anders’ latest escape and Nell Suranna leaving and all the demons, maybe the Templars believed they should be less lenient on those with a potential rebellious streak. He wondered which unlucky soul had been deemed unworthy of Harrowing. Or volunteered, too afraid to try, or believing it the only way to please a Maker who so obviously hated mages. Hector had almost volunteered, but that was a while ago.

He wasn’t close with his fellow mages, most of them saw him as too much like a Templar considering his training, but he recognized the newly Tranquil. Jowan shuffled out of the office, still in muddy peasant clothes from his brief taste of freedom. His eyes were red like he had been crying, but his expression was flat and the livid fresh brand on his forehead unmistakable.

“It’s Jowan, right?” he asked. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Hector.”

“I think so,” Jowan said quietly, his tone flat, but his voice was hoarse like he had been yelling. Like maybe he screamed when they put burning lyrium to his skin. “You were a Templar before.”

He shrugged awkwardly. He used to be so proud of that and the training had served him well when demons overran the tower, but it still felt suddenly hard to admit. “In training,” he said. “But I’m not anymore.”

“It doesn’t bother me either way,” Jowan said distantly.

“It used to.”

“Does that matter?”

Hector thought for a moment, frowning. “Not really. I’m sorry though. For what it’s worth. Sorry they made you Tranquil. I know you didn’t want this.”

“I don’t know if I’m sorry,” Jowan said. “I haven’t been in this state long enough to decide. The brand still hurts, but I am told that won’t last forever.”

Hector’s frown deepened. “We’ll go to the infirmary first then,” he said firmly, annoyed at himself for not thinking of that. His own barely healed burned from the recent demons still itched and should have been a reminder. “It’s not supposed to be a punishment,” he added, echoing words he had been told during training that he was having an increasingly difficult time believing.

“It is not necessary,” Jowan said.

“Jowan, look at me. Just because you aren’t upset doesn’t mean that you don’t matter. Please let me help.”

Jowan nodded.

The healer looked up with tired eyes when they entered. She still had a couple patients who were badly injured in the battle against the abominations, and was still trying to get the place in order from all the chaos. She looked them both up and down as though trying to figure out what they were here for. There was the briefest flash of sadness on her face when she recognized Jowan as the new Tranquil, before settling into business.

“Neither of you look injured,” she said a little sharply. “And I have way too much work since *both* of our spirit healers are currently absent. Left me with all their work because apparently their little jaunt in the fresh air is more important than the rest of us back here.”

“You know Wynne’s leave to help was approved…” Hector started.

“Does that get her job done? Does that fix the fact that she left me with injuries I’m not qualified to heal because she wanted to skip out to do Maker knows what? It’s not about permission. I don’t give a damn that your friend there tried to run if that’s what’s on your mind. I care when I get left in the lurch by people who should know better. I don’t have time for this.”

“I told you it’s not necessary,” Jowan whispered. “I will survive without assistance.”

Hector sighed. “Ma'am, will you please stop trying to guilt trip a Tranquil, and just get a salve for his burn?”

“You mean his brand? It’s not usual practice to take new Tranquils to a healer for that.”

“How would you treat another burn of the same severity? Does he deserve to be in pain just because he is unlikely to complain?”

“No,” she admitted, her expression softening. “No of course not.” She pulled a small jar off of a shelf. “They’ll probably set him to work making these soon anyway,” she said.

They got out of the overworked healer’s way as soon as they could. The dormitory for the Tranquil barely had enough room for all of the beds crammed into the space. Tranquil didn’t usually have possessions, or if they did it was usually practical things for their tasks, so there wasn’t need for a lot of space for that, and they never complained about so many being pressed into such small windowless rooms.

Hector was no healer himself, but he was the only one around so he offered to help clean and bandage Jowan’s burn.

“I will be okay,” Jowan insisted quietly. He hesitated for a moment before adding, “but I would not mind the help.”

“You didn’t miss out on much while you were gone,” Hector said as he worked. It wasn’t much, but he hoped a distraction would help with the pain. “Only a whole battle.”

“Is Lily okay?” Jowan asked. “I was quite worried about her before, and they wouldn’t tell me about her.”

Hector shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. She’s not here, but I never heard why.”

“Oh.” Jowan paused a long moment before adding “You said there was a battle?”

So Hector filled him in on what had happened in the Circle since he left, or at least the parts that he knew. Mostly about the demons. Jowan sat perfectly still, a very easy patient while Hector talked and applied salve to his burn.

“Do you wish you could have stayed a Templar?” Jowan asked.

“I used to. More than anything. But now…” he shrugged as he set the salve aside. “Things change. I wanted to help, but I don’t think I would have actually helped as a Templar. I might have forgotten I even wanted to.”

[specterwrites]

A Long Overdue Update

Whelp I have some bad news and some news that could be good or bad depending on one's perspective.

Firstly, the bad news: I've been fired. I will need to navigate the hurdles of medical insurance, rent payments, and caring for elderly relatives without a stable income.

Additionally, my Patreon (which I've not updated in quite some time, so this is entirely my fault) was suspended for lack of update and/or inability to verify my identity. As I'm sure everyone can imagine, it will likely be difficult to verify my identity given my pen name is not my legal name. I take my privacy very seriously, and may have to establish an LLC in the near future to deal with legal issues such as this.

I have also been candid in the past on this blog about trying to repair the old laptop on which I wrote most of my, well...everything. I took it to three different repair shops, with every one of them concluded that it is well and truly unsalvageable. There's a small silver lining in that technicians were able to recover its data, so I am not literally beginning from zero (just very, very close to it).

The good-or-bad-depending-on-one's-perspective news is that I will have time to work on personal and freelance projects while I search for a new, full-time job. Last time, it took around two and a half years and thousands of applications, so I do not anticipate anything solid for at least a couple years more.

I ask for your patience during this difficult time in my life. I understand that many people have been waiting for an update to Years for, well...years, but I would appreciate some grace from my readers as I navigate everything.

[virovac]

Repost of Ahmed's dad message

(reposting since peopel often think threads with alot of notes have enough funds)

Vetted, Ahmed was shared by 90-ghost here

Ahmed is asking that people please donate via paypal so he can

access the funds faster.  Please include in the notes that the donation is for Ahmed. Paypal is fast

@/calmthings is offering free art with proof of donation

Ahmed is still $230 short of the $700 he needs to get surgery for his dad, who remains in critical condition. Ahmed needs to raise the remaining amount by the morning.

" my father has a very serious illness, he had a stroke, liver disease and other things that I lost, and I also lost my mother a month ago. My father needs care due to chronic diseases and lack of treatment, and his condition is getting worse, and I am the only one who takes care of her, so I am really afraid of losing and I do not want to lose, because I lost a big part of my family, my home, my work and my entire previous life."

 ahmad680

Save our life !!❤️🥹

Hello again, I am Ahmed Mazen Hammad from Gaza, I live in war, fear and destruction, we have been living for almost a year now and we do not know how long, we have been displaced from our home more than 9 times,

every time I was displaced to another place I prayed that this would be the last, but then came the idea of ​​​​forced exit to search for safety where there is no safety, we got very tired and our bodies were exhausted, we no longer had the energy to continue, we lived hunger, thirst, cold and all the difficult conditions that humans cannot imagine,

We never imagined that a day would come when we would live all this, I lost my family and my childhood home, even my friends are no longer around, I was left alone!! I search for salvation from death, I fear death and I fear it and I fear losing my father, the idea is terrifying to leave your dreams and ambitions and the life you planned and depart from this world, we do not deny death but we do not want to live it now,

I had a beautiful life, suddenly I do not know how I lost my life, we live in a tent that can only accommodate 3 people, made of nylon that no human can bear, just standing in it for more than two minutes during the day is enough to melt you, in addition to insects, diseases and lack of privacy, imagine all this!! Can you live??

In addition, my father has a very serious illness, he had a stroke, liver disease and other things that I lost, and I also lost my mother a month ago. My father needs care due to chronic diseases and lack of treatment, and his condition is getting worse, and I am the only one who takes care of her, so I am really afraid of losing and I do not want to lose, because I lost a big part of my family, my home, my work and my entire previous life.

Look at my father 💔 Our life is very painful I fear losing my father and living alone

Things here are more difficult than you imagined, reality is painful 💔

We wake up every day to the smell of death, I have been surrounded by tanks and helicopters more than 4 times, each time I do not know how to survive? It seems that my death has not come yet

I do not want to die!! 🥺

Please help me save my life and get out of here, life is impossible

Your donation will save my life, it is the only way, hand in hand we can achieve the goal please

My father faced death and surgeries because of the diseases he committed. Please I cannot live without my father. He has been my refuge after the death of my mother. Please donate to me so that I can provide for my father’s needs so that he can stay by my side.🙏🏻

You will not be the reason for my father's death or anything bad to happen. Please donate to save my father. If every person who donates will help me provide for my father's needs and provide him with the necessary medicine.

Share my campaign 🙏

Donate to me please 🍉

Thank you all 🍉🇵🇸

[videogamepoc]

Dear/Dear

After Greetings,

I hope you are well and in the best condition. I am Ahmed, and I am writing to you today regarding a topic that is very important to me and my family. We are currently facing difficult circumstances that need the support of the community and good people like you.

I have written my story detailing my family's current situation and our urgent need for financial assistance. I would kindly ask you to help us spread this story as widely as possible. Reposting my story will go a long way in raising the funds we need to support my family during this difficult time.

I know your time is valuable, but your help in this matter will make a huge difference to us. If you can post the story on your social media platforms or share it with your friends and acquaintances, I would be very grateful.

Thank you for your interest and time. Your support gives us hope and strength to face these challenges.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/i-want-to-evacuate-my-family-from-the-gaza-strip?utm_medium=social&utm_source=whatsapp&utm_campaign=p_nacp+share-sheet

With sincere regards and appreciation,

[Ahmed]

---

Thank you for messaging us, Ahmed!

Ahmed's campaign is vetted and is number 161 on users el-shab-hussein and nabulsi's master list.

They have €10,408 raised of their €100,000 goal.

Ahmed's family has been displaced up to four times because of the war on Gaza. They live now in cramped conditions, with little privacy, and little resources or proper basic necessities. They also live in fear of their safety and of their lives. They want to evacuate to Egypt to escape the war and rebuild their lives & homes in safety. Ahmed lives in Belgium and is currently using these funds to evacuate his 7 family members from Gaza, including his parents and siblings.

Please share and donate to Ahmed and his family's GFM campaign:

And please reblog and boost his text post on his blog so his campaign can have a greater reach: