#and continue life as normally as possible

[supportgaza]

A Merry Christmas in Ireland while my Family in Gaza is Escaping Death Daily: Help me Evacuate and Reunite with my Family

Vetted by:

1. @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi # 151 on the spreadsheet of Vetted Gaza Fundraisers List]

2. @riding-with-the-wild-hunt Here .

One's family is the soul of his/her soul. Is there a life without a soul?

I would never wish for my worst enemies to be in my situation (being far away in safety while every member of my family is dodging the bullets, missiles, and shrapnel daily. They live in fear and are deprived of all the necessities for a humane normal life.

I do NOT buy the manipulative misleading news about a ceasefire to be signed soon because we had heard such news countless times in the past year. Unfortunately, the genocide, chaos, loss, and killing will continue in the besieged Gaza Strip.

The atmosphere where I am in Ireland is filled with joy, gratefulness, Christmas songs and decorations, and the streets, cafes, and shops are filled with happy families. However, I look down into my heart and all I see is a broken heart filled with fear and agony. No words in the English language properly and aptly describes the fear that strikes my heart and spreads with blood through my body when my mother said: "The bombing never stops in our area and the quad copters fire their bullets at people walking in the street." Even the most gory and bloody horror movies can not reflect a portion of the terror and fear the has overtaken and consumed people.

When I hear the work Nusairat, the area in central Gaza where my family is, I get a panic attack and suddenly lose sense of my surrounding. I hear news everyday about entire families including women and children being targeted by Israeli missiles made in American and Europe, and I fear for my family. Would not you, too? Me and you are not so different after all. We are made of flesh, bones and blood. We have dreams, ambitions and aspirations. We care and fear for our families and loved ones. So, what made our blood in Gaza so cheap? When did we turn into less of human beings?

I can tell you without equivocation that we are damaged and broken beyond what you could possibly think. Entire cities in the Gaza Strip were flattened. My family's house in the north of Gaza was severely damaged and our city has turned into an unlivable ghost city.

From our family to all the families out there that care for Gaza and Gazans, please boost our campaign in whatever way you can and help us reach our final goal. Help my family evacuate and reunite in Ireland. While enjoying this Christmas break with your family and loved ones, please do not forget your brothers and sisters in Gaza who go through horrors you cannot begin to imagine.

My family is in a place where a missile can fall and tear them to pieces. We deserve to be together in a safe place away from the chaos, death, terror, and bullets. Please put your hand in mine as I strive to get them out of there. Please contribute to this noble cause in whatever way you can. Take whatever action; do something, please!

Please donate, reblog, and share.

We are at 64% of our final goal and getting closer to acheiving our final goal.

Tagging for reach <3 Please boost my family's campaign

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[mrsshabana]

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 ✧ 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ꔫ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, canon-ish, fluff

ꔫ Note Happy Holidays everyone! I haven't had much time to write lately since I'm moving. But I wanted to give you guys a little something for the holidays! ଘ( ･ω･)_/ﾟ･:*:･｡☆

Gyutaro always hated Christmas.

He's a demon now so it's not like the holiday is meant for him, but even as a human he hated it. The holiday just served as a reminder of everything he never had. Family, gifts, food, love. It just wasn't fair.

After he turned into a demon he took it upon himself to celebrate Christmas in his own special way. Scouting out the rich neighborhoods to find his own Christmas feast.

It was sadistic, but that's Gyutaro's idea of fun. He enjoyed torturing those who were more fortunate than himself, of course. But in a way, he also felt like he was enacting revenge for those who weren't strong enough to do it themselves. All of the orphans and poor children who spent Christmas night out on the cold streets of the entertainment district.

It became a Christmas tradition for Gyutaro. But things changed when he met you.

He first noticed you when he heard your voice through his sister's ears. It sounded heavenly, instantly waking him from his slumber. And by the elegant kimono you wore, he guessed you were just another rich woman. Destined to spend Christmas in some mansion surrounded by loads of gifts. It infuriated him.

So, that year you became his target.

And on Christmas Eve he followed you home, only to see something that surprised him. You weren't rich, no, far from it. You lived in a small home on the outskirts of town. Your home was not decorated in the slightest and you didn't even have a Christmas tree.

"This can't be right... a girl as pretty as her can't spend Christmas alone," he grumbles to himself. He decided to stay and watch you for a while, figuring that you must have a rich boyfriend or something like that.

But no. No one came and you opened no gifts. The pretty girl that Gyutaro was previously jealous of, spent the entire night by herself.

You were the first person to surprise Gyutaro in a very long time. The first person with a beautiful face who didn't have a life to match it. Behind closed doors, you lived a life full of sadness and loneliness. Though at work and in front of others you always wore a smile, never wanting anyone to worry about you.

But you couldn't hide the truth from Gyutaro. He continued to watch you from the shadows even after Christmas had long passed. Stalking you from rooftops, listening to your voice through his sister's ears, watching you up close from her eyes. He actually smiles when you're around.

And when Christmas comes once again he can't help but feel like it's a shame that you don't know about him. That you don't know that there's someone out there who loves you. Someone you've never even met.

A part of him wants to finally reveal himself and confess his feelings. But what if you reject him? What if you're disgusted by his ugliness like everyone else is? He wouldn't be able to go on if something like that happened. Maybe he'd snap and just kill you. He knows himself, and he knows that's something he'd probably do. So instead he decides not to reveal himself for now. However, he still wants to do something for you. Something to let you know that you aren't as alone as you may think.

You got an extra shift at work, hoping to work as much as possible so you could forget what time of year it was. But you had to go home eventually.

You take the alleyways home, wanting to avoid the main streets so you don't have to see the Christmas lights or hear the Christmas carols. You just want December to end already so things can be back to normal. So you don't have to remember the painful memories that this holiday brings.

As you approach your home you immediately notice that something's off. There is a faint glow in your window. But that can't be right. You know you couldn't afford any lights or decorations. And even if you could, you wouldn't have spent any money on them.

Hesitantly, you open the door. And nothing looks out of place or stolen. But there is a small tree in your living room.

It looks like it was torn out of the ground because the roots are still attached and there is frost on its leaves. It's propped half-hazardly against the wall. Sloppily decorated with red ribbons and random trinkets.

On the floor is a single candle, a note, and a crudely-wrapped box.

Did someone seriously break into your home to give you a tree and a Christmas present? This has to be some kind of joke right?

You're skeptical, but you decide to open the note anyways and give it a read.

"Dear Y/N,

You don't know me but I know you. I think you are very pretty. I am always here, even if you don't know it. You aren't as lonely as you think. Merry Christmas.

-Love G"

The handwriting is barely legible and what you can read sounds slightly creepy, like you might have some kind of stalker. But you can tell that whoever did this genuinely cares for you. Creepy or not. And your heart warms up at the thought that someone went out of their way to do this for you.

With teary eyes, you open the gift. Inside the small box is a beautiful bracelet with brilliant emeralds. You've never received such a thoughtful gift.

You hold the bracelet close, clutching it to your chest as tears stream down your cheeks. Overcome with gratitude and appreciation for this person that you don't even know. Yet they were so kind to do this for you anyway. Not even wanting to reveal themselves to receive praise and love, no. They just wanted you to be happy. They couldn't care less if you knew who it was really from. Seeing that smile on your face is more than enough for them.

"Thank you...," you mumble.

You don't receive a response but you can feel that someone is watching from the shadows, with a big toothy grin on his face.

[numinousmysteries]

@poangsecretsanta

Vrooom, vrooom, let's basketball! For the delightful @xf-cases-solved aka diz who loves Milagro:

Agent Scully is already in love .

The words taunt him as she digs her nails into his back. She's crying hot tears onto the shoulder of his sweater and clinging to him like a life raft in a storm. He tries to focus on the thumping of her heart against his chest, the frantic breaths she gasps into his ear—signs that she’s alive, that he hasn’t lost her—but he can’t get Padgett’s words out of his mind. 

Padgett's a liar and a murderer, he tells himself. The guy would say anything to get a rise out of him. 

But he loves her. He's known for years although he doesn't know how to admit that to her, or even to herself. The possibility that she could feel the same way is too overwhelming to even consider. And the potential consequences too enormous. 

The paramedics arrive and give her a preliminary exam on his living room couch. Despite the volume of blood on her clothing, there doesn't seem to be an entry or exit wound and her vitals are normal. They offer a ride to the hospital just to be safe, but she declines.

"Alright," one of them says, slightly baffled. "Well, don't hesitate to call us again or come into the ER if your condition changes."

“Yes,” she says, her voice firm, the Dr. Dana Scully tone she uses for the rest of the world. For everyone except him. 

He shows them to the door. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks her once they're alone.

"Yeah, I think so," she says softly.

"Why don't I get you a change of clothes? Or, do you want to take a shower?"

"I-I'm not sure," she says and he realizes she's shaking.

"Oh Scully, come here," he says, taking a seat next to her on the couch and opening his arms to her.

Her lower lip trembles as she closes her eyes and rests her head on his chest. He wraps his arms around her and rubs soothing circles on her back. Her blood stains his sweater, marking him. 

"It's okay," he says. He leans down to kiss the crown of her head. It's warm and damp with sweat. She smells like fear. 

He hears her sniffling and trying to catch her breath. After a few moments of sobbing, her breathing slows down and becomes more measured. He feels her pulling back and he releases her from his embrace. 

"I'm sorry," she says. "I should go."

"Hey, wait, Scully," he says, grabbing her onto her wrist to keep her from rising from the couch. "You don't have to go just yet. I don't know if you should be driving like this."

"I'm fine," she says, although her warbling voice betrays her vulnerability.

"If you think I care about anything he wrote in that book—"

"Oh, Mulder, stop," she protests, but he continues.

"He didn’t know you at all. It was just the fantasies of a mad, lonely man."

"That's the thing," she sighs. "I think he did know me. Some of that was eerily accurate. It was almost like he was profiling me. I felt so exposed."

"But not all of it, obviously," he says.

"You mean, that I’m not in love?” 

He pauses, frozen in his tracks. He meant the part about her sleeping with Padgett. He wasn't expecting they'd actually discuss that part. 

"Scully, I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it."

She sucks in her top lip and bows her head, tears still wet on her face.

"What would that mean?" She asks. "I mean, to you? What would it mean to you if I were in love?"

He's confused, tiptoeing carefully around her question. "Well, I'd buy the lucky guy a beer to congratulate him. Let him know he's in for a lifetime of being second-guessed. But also that I'm damn jealous of him for getting to spend it with you."

A soft laugh catches in her throat and turns into a cough. "Mulder," she starts, looking down at her hands in her lap. "You know there's no one else...in my life."

"No one else besides..?"

She sighs again, this time more in frustration, and looks up at him with wet, blue eyes. "You're really going to make me say it?"

"I don't want to assume anything. But if you were to say you were in love with me, I'd assure you that there's nothing in the world that would make me happier. And that the feeling is more than mutual." 

She stares at him in stunned silence and he immediately wants to take his words back. Not because they aren’t true, but because he isn’t sure he’s ready to face their implications. 

“Shit, Scully, I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re in shock.”

“No,” she says quietly but resolutely, bringing a small palm to the center of his chest. Her touch feels firm. “I feel the same way. I have for a long time.”

“I’m flattered, truly,” he stammers. “But it doesn’t have to change anything between us. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it weren’t for Padgett and I don’t think we should give him that much power.”

He expects her to withdraw her hand but she doesn���t. With each fervent beat of his heart he feels the gentle but assured pressure of her touch. Not for the first time, he feels as if his heart will stop beating if she pulls away. 

“Can we really go back, though?” She asks, her eyes pleading. “To the way we were before?

He thinks, No, please, anything but that. He says, “Of course we can. We’ve made it through far worse.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to go back,” she says quickly, just barely above a whisper and he freezes. 

“Well, then.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It sounds strangled in his throat and he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing. Or the right thing. “Then maybe we don’t have to. What's stopping us?"

"I'm scared," she admits, with a furrow of the soft skin in between her eyebrows.

"I am, too," he says softly, stroking her back with one broad palm, feeling muscles easing underneath his hand.

She stares at him in puzzled amazement and he fears he's gone too far. But he sees her lips starting to part and they simultaneously lean in to meet in an impossibly soft, delicate kiss. It's sweet and sad and endearing. They're both scared to push the envelope so they barely move as their lips touch, as if just getting used to the sensation of touching in this way. It feels ancient and new at the same time. Like coming home while also jettisoning out of the earth’s orbit. 

She sucks in a sharp breath of air and pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"No, no," she says quickly. "Please don't apologize. I want this so badly, too, trust me. I just...I don't know what it will look like. How it will change things between us."

"I don't know either," he admits. "But I think it's worth a try."

He has all the same questions she has. Do they keep this a secret? Can they ever be seen in public as more than just coworkers? Can they sleep over each other's apartments? They've been followed and trailed and bugged before so they know any change in their normal activities would quickly get noticed by their enemies. Although, in light of recent events, it seems that the group of men who've been conspiring against them might be much smaller in numbers now.

"I don't know what this will look like," he reiterates. "But I don't think I could live without you."

She nods solemnly. "What if they use this as an opportunity to tear us apart?"

"Who? The bureau?" he asks. "I'd quit. I don't care. You're more important than all of this."

She pauses thoughtfully as his proclamation washes over her. He knows what he's saying and he means it. Six years ago he told her nothing else mattered beyond finding his sister. At the time it was true. But six years later, his priorities have shifted. He's been lied to and fucked over too many times to genuinely believe that the truth about his sister is knowable. And if it is, he'll only find it with Scully at his side.

He told her once that she made him a whole person and it's truer now more than ever. Losing her would be worse than losing a part of himself. 

"I want to try then," she says, embarking on this shift in their relationship with the same seriousness she applies to everything she does. Scully does not leap without looking. He felt hurt in the past when she had her one-night stand with Ed Jerse, confused how she could do something so rash and frankly, stupid, but he realized she was only able to act so quickly because it meant so little to her. When the stakes are high, she takes her time.

"Me too," he says.

She gives a little laugh out of overwhelm. "We're talking a lot about this for people who have just barely kissed."

He smiles, feeling love and warmth emanating off her. "Well, I plan to change that as soon as possible. Why don't we get you in the shower to clean off and take it from there? Only if you're, um, comfortable of course." He wants this so badly but he also doesn't know if he wants their first time to be marred by the brutality of this attack. 

"I think I'll be very comfortable with that," she says. "Will you join me in the shower?"

"Pull my leg.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and he remembers, It’s Scully . No matter how their relationship changes, they’ll still bicker and disagree and she’ll still give him that look. 

He stands up and offers her his hand. She takes it and he leads her to the bathroom. The water takes a moment to warm up so he twists the knob first before addressing their clothing. She's already discarded her jacket on the sofa when the paramedics were examining her, so he starts with slowly unbuttoning her bloodied blouse. He moves so slowly, wanting to memorize this moment. He wishes there wasn't any blood.

After each button, he looks up at her, silently asking for permission to keep going. Her pupils are big and glassy but she nods each time they make eye contact so he continues. Her skin is soft and unbroken underneath her shirt but still marked red with blood. Her skin goose-pimples from the cold so he pulls her into his chest before sliding the shirt off her shoulders. 

"I love you," he whispers into her hair. "You know that, right? I've loved you for so long."

She leans against his body and sniffles. 

"I know," she says, and he kisses the part in her scalp, the white skin where her red hair originates. "I love you, too.” 

He returns to undressing her, moving more quickly now as he's eager to get her into the warm shower. Once she's naked in front of him, he pauses for just a moment to admire her before quickly pulling off his sweater and t-shirt and stepping out of his jeans. Her intellect and integrity loom so large in his mind that he forgets how physically small she actually is. He can span her waist with two hands. He’s terrified of what a man with less noble intentions could do. 

They take the final step into the shower together. She gasps when the hot water hits her skin and he feels a jolt of panic before seeing her visually relax in front of him. She closes her eyes and tilts back her head. On the shower floor beneath them, the tide runs scarlet.

The water is hot but she's still shivering so he pulls her in, wrapping his arms around her, pushing his torso into hers. 

He imagines Padgett touching her like this, his leering gaze lingering on her skin as he skimmed his hands over her breasts, her waist, her hips. He grips her more forcefully imagining how much this stranger wanted to do this to her, but never will. Mine , he thinks to himself as he goes in for another deep kiss, his hands on her neck feeling her stubborn, insistent pulse. She perseveres.

"I want–" she says into his chest. She doesn't finish her sentence but he knows what she wants. He wants it, too.

He takes a step back, still with his arms around her but at a distance so they can meet each other's eyes.

"There's no going back after this," he says. "You know that, right?"

Even amid the running water he can see tears forming in her eyes.

"No going back," she promises. Her voice is firm, strong. It’s the voice he’s come to trust above all others.

He's kissing her again, this time without hesitation, searching furiously within her mouth with his tongue as his hands explore her body. He's hard, now, aching for her and he doesn't shy away when he feels her soft belly press against his erection.

The water is running clear now, all the blood rinsed off her skin. He reaches for the faucet handle, seeking approval in her eyes. She nods and he turns the water off. Without stepping out of the shower, he reaches for the nearest towel, wrapping it around her. She's shivering so he brushes his hands vigorously against the cloth, hoping to warm her up. He's still wet, naked in front of her but he doesn't care. There's only one towel on the rack. Why would there be another? He always thought he'd die alone here. It's been years since he knew she was it for him. Either she'd come around or she wouldn't and he'd have to be content with their friendship. But now she's here. Naked in his shower wrapped in his only towel.

"Just a second," he says. He pads out of the shower, leaving a trail of wet footprints through to his bedroom where he finds an old threadbare towel in the closet. It smells vaguely mildewy but he doesn't care. He just needs to get himself sufficiently dry. He towels himself off then tosses it in the corner of the bathroom and returns to her.

"Cold?" He asks.

“A little, yeah.” 

He  embraces her once again, the towel she's clutching under her chin the only thing between them.

"Come get warm."

He guides her to his bed, pulling the sheet and coverlet over her, lifting her wet hair up on the pillow she lies on so it spreads out around her like a halo.

"You," she says.

He knows what she means. He slips under the covers to hold her against him. He's kissing her neck and whispering I love you, I love you, I love you into her collarbones when she stops shaking.

She snakes a hand between them and she feels her small, thin hand wrap around his cock. He gasps, involuntarily, the novelty of a touch that isn't his own for the first time in years is enough to set him off. The knowledge that it's Scully's hand is enough to make him cry.

"We don't have to...tonight," he says.

"I want to," she says.

"Well then I'm not going to argue with you," he says, smiling. She grins back at him and he feels the weight of the universe lifting off him. 

“That’s a first.” She grins. It’s a challenge and an invitation.  

He pushes himself up so he's on top of her, kissing her hard as she holds his rigid cock in her hand. Then, he starts working his way down her body, giving a little sigh when he's low enough that she has to release him. He wants this to last forever. He doesn't know if they'll have another chance. If she'll wake up in the morning and realize she was acting on fear and adrenaline and tell him this can never happen again. It's entirely possible, so he wants to savor every moment in case this is their only time. He wants to see her body respond in pleasure, instead of fear or pain.

She's already moaning by the time he makes his way to her navel. He tongues the concavity, then turns his head to face her gunshot wound. It's only a few months old, still dark and angry against her pale skin. He kisses that, too. 

Lower still, he gently parts her legs with his palms, pausing to glance up and lock eyes with her. He’s looking for a nod, a sign she wants him to keep going. She keeps her gaze steady on him, though, then opens up her legs further and wraps her calves around his back. 

He’s seen her naked before, but never like this. Never so open, so vulnerable and welcoming, and he knows how significant this is for her. For both of them. He presses a kiss on her mons, the soft hair still damp from the shower. He smells his own soap but underneath that, her . She tenses her thighs around him and lets out a little frustrated gasp that makes him smile to himself. 

He can’t deprive her what she wants. He gives her leg a squeeze, then licks her slowly, running his tongue from her opening up to the hood of her clit. That last part makes her gasp again and he focuses solely on her clit next, pursing his lips to suck while teasing her with his tongue. Just like he’s learned nearly everything there is to know about her over the years—when she’s truly angry at him or just needs a lame joke to break the tension; the way she licks her lip when she’s pondering a mystery—he takes the time to learn what she likes. She isn’t loud, but he seems to be expertly interpreting each of her little sounds as her body responds around him and she grinds her hips up to meet him. 

“Mulder—” she calls out and squeezes his shoulder.

He stops suddenly, panicking that he's done something wrong. She reads him easily, though, and gives him a reassuring smile. “Get up here,” she whispers.

He kisses his way back up her body until they’re face to face.

She takes the lead now, pulling his head down to meet hers and kissing him hungrily. He’s achingly hard against her and terrified he isn’t going to last long enough to make this memorable. 

“Can I?” He whispers into her, grinding against her like a teenager.

She answers by reaching down and guiding him inside her. She’s wet but so, so tight and he looks to her to make sure she isn’t in pain as he lowers himself down into her inch by inch. He’s trying to move slowly, fighting against every instinct in his body to plunge fully inside her. She takes him out of his misery by sliding her hands around to palm his ass and bring him closer to her. 

“You feel incredible,” he whispers into her ear.

He wants to remember every sensation—the warmth of her breath on his neck, the smell of her sweat, the grip of her inner walls around his dick. 

They start moving in unison, their bodies finding a rhythm that mirrors the intellectual volley they’ve established over the years. Burying his face in the curve of her shoulder, he hears her moaning into his ear. Thankfully, it seems like she’s close because he doesn’t think he can last much longer. 

“Oh, Mulder,” she purrs as her orgasm ripples through her body. His name on her lips is enough to make him surrender, thrusting quicker and harder until he comes hard inside her. The scope of his universe is suddenly reduced to their bodies, tangled and intertwined on his bed. 

Coming down from his high, he rolls off of her. Without speaking, they turn to face each other. Burgeoning tears blur his vision. He blinks to see her more clearly and she wipes them off his cheekbones with her thumbs. 

“That was…” He pauses, struggling to find the words adequate to describe the immensity of his emotions.

“Perfect,” she finishes for him. 

Their lips meet and this time the kiss is languid and indulgent. Worn out from physical exertion and emotional exhaustion, they take their time. His fear that she’d immediately regret what they did and they’d have to go back to being partners evaporates. It’s not an ending. They’re evolving into something new. Just as they’ve gone from coworkers to friends, the road to this next level of their relationship, he knows, won’t always be smooth but will be more than worth the journey.

[buriedwithit]

ezra licks his lips with anticipation, watching her performance with undisguised appreciation. god, where had she been hiding all his life? normally, even he has the sense not to jump into barking demands ( even sexually ) at someone in need of a simple cigarette... but she just makes it so easy! so inviting! so... exquisite! there's just one problem—from where he's standing, the best view is still hidden away from him. he wonders if she's doing it on purpose. trying to bait him in again. if she is, it's working. and if she's not... it's working. "you like my teeth, doll?" he asks, grinning wide—not just because she had asked. but nobody compliments him like that, like he wants. is it possible they're cut from the same cloth? an old cum sock, he would bet. "i bet you'd love it if i got a good bite in on you," he continues, slinking forward like an alley cat and stooping to flip her skirt up. oh, there it is. the show he wants! much like throwing open a chest of gold, he can't help but take the time to admire her work—and her body. ezra's tongue pokes out for a second time, tucked between two of his fangs. "put another in, if you can take it." he lets his hands rest against her knees. "hell, even if you can't. i'm thicker than that."

Warmth floods through her as he finally comes. It tastes different, presumably something linked to his mutation, and that taste makes her suck him through his orgasm. If he wasn't digging his nails into her skull, she might've tried to stay longer. Especially with the way his leg trembles against her dripping cunt, she hopes she's left a mark on his shoe. He pulls back, tucks himself away, and she makes a little show of swallowing every last drop. Even swiping her hand across her mouth, tucking in a stray droplet.

He's bossy, and while she enjoys a bit of bratting, now isn't the time. So Xio does as she's told. Lifting her skirt, she shimmies her underwear and tights down to her knees. It's an awkward position, one that won't give him the best view but she doesn't care. It's a view. Xio slips two fingers inside herself, moaning at the satisfaction of finally touching herself, being full once more. She uses her other hand to begin rubbing her clit, all the while maintaining eye contact. Xio isn't too concerned about what he sees, if he wants a better view, he'll have to help her out himself! "Show me your teeth."

[supercantaloupe]

oh i am too but i've been to enough shows now since the vaccines got rolled out that i'm comfortable enough going to the theater as long as i'm in an n95 mask and got my boosters. i mean i managed to make it through two seasons as a woodwind player in an orchestra during covid pre-vaccination and managed to stay healthy so...idk, for me it's worth the risk. plus i did actually get covid last summer and while it Sucked i luckily had no lasting complications and was healthy again after a week (not that i'm eager to get sick again or risk complications later on -- i'm an oboist and i'm very precious about my lungs...!)

i do wish theaters would still require masks/vaccines but all i can do is try to protect myself and hope that other people will be smart too (and given my impression of nyc & met theatergoers in general i think it'll be okay...)

[oldshittydog]

1.07 // 2.05 // 4.10

[ayrennaranaaldmeri]

"Do you think we can win this?" "I do."

[lorillee]

also insane to me that some people out there genuinely think y0 shouldve ended w makoto and majima getting together at the end Like did u play this game with ur eyes open........................ ?

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[red-dyed-sarumane]

aru sekai shoushitsu is an 11 minute song i listened to on accident because i was too tired to look at the length & was just solely like man thats such a cool title for a vocaloid song i hope it lives up to it and it 100% did. i didnt have any idea there was a story behind it it just thought it was such a cool sounding song & i remember clearly playing animal crossing past 4am with it on loop. completely forgot the producers name & didnt recognize them when they posted kyuuyaku hankagai so it took me like 3 days to actually listen to it & the SECOND i heard the nami no ne no motif i lost my mind. that was it for me ive been so deep into it since then i dont think theres a way to pull me out. at the start everything had such weird phrasing it was so hard to sort out what was stylistic and what was direct story telling & even now its sometimes difficult, but the fact with every new song we get a new version of the story and new info & everything ties together to consistently for a project made by one person over the course of several years with this level of detail.

going from knowing its a story about trying and failing to prevent the world's destruction to finding out not only are they doomed to repeat it, the only way out is to completely give up on their own self and accept total death. putting together the timeline from little hints some of which u have to sort through which is fact and which is a character's own narration distorted by either their emotions or intentionally. the fact the story telling is not entirely direct, the lyrics are only one facet of it, it goes as far as using the genre of the song to express things, theres just so much. ive been into my fair share of vocaloid song projects but this is the most precise and delicately handled one i've encountered. there is so much care and attention put into every single one of those songs it would just be insulting to not take it seriously. there was a moment i was worried it was going to turn into the same song but different when we got maximizer and then kanon and i'm so so glad that isn't the case because the way theyre handling it now really shows how important it is to them. this is a person who posts some of the most ridiculous memes ive seen & has some now popular meme songs and even with that attention they've said they're continuing to take the series seriously and that alone says so so much about the weight of this project to them.

i'll be honest with you i dont think there's a good end to this story. with the info we have now, with how aru sekai shoushitsu, the story outline song, goes i cannot see a happy ending for any of these characters. i wouldn't be surprised if it turned out we're only being shown one instance of that certain world & it ends in a way that implies despite all their efforts it's just going to happen all the same all over again, just with certain people lost forever and others willing to try more underhanded tactics to try their ideas that ultimately wont work anyway. i don't think there will be a real resolution to any of the problems. but even then there are so many currently unrevealed secrets & the overall commentary the work is making in the first place that sticking around for whatever ending we're given will be well worth the wait

[seaofreverie]

Every once in a billion years I suddenly get very lucky and pick up one band merch delivery on one day, and then get another band merch delivery from another band on the very next day

[andrwgarfields]

omg yuzuru, it must be so bad that this decision had to be made

[system-architect]

ngl im kinda excited to see how gunner would potentially react to the stabilized rata novus fractal!

u sent this ask to me 6 months ago and ive been kind of letting it marinate in my head while i also figure out how i really feel about soto and im proud to say that after half a year i finally have an answer for u:

he'd be fucking pissed

(long below)

i think that like, at first, gunner would be bonkers levels intrigued by the wizards and the fractal islands and everything about them conceptually. that's his jam. he would feel a bit salty and cheated he hadn't been 'let in on' all the wizard stuff before, because he feels that he works harder than anyone else and essentially deserves to have access to the same pool of knowledge that the wizards have and that it was basically kind of held back from him arbitrarily, but he digresses. it's at least cool to see Now

learning about and then entering the rata novus fractal island is where his opinion would shift heavily. i think he might be kind of initially excited.. it IS his home, without all the chak damage. it's intensely nostalgic to see. but after spending a few moments into it and learning more of its' premise (a rata novus that survived because they made 'different choices'), he'd feel... mocked and exploited, sort of.

for one, he'd feel weird and like it was dirty in a way that he, a living rata novan, was never simply asked any questions and then never had any sort of input on the creation of this thing. but more pressingly, seeing this sort of distorted 'happy bubble where nothing is wrong' version of the world would feel like it was mocking him specifically-- i mean, only 2% of the population of rata novus survived. he WATCHED these people die. he'd feel like the whole premise of the fractal was kind of shitty in a way-- that maybe if the rata novans made 'better choices' they wouldn't have all died or something, as it if was the entire city that brought on the destruction via mismanagement of chak+ley energy, not a small group consisting of zinn and his high council. furthermore, zinn gets to be here-- completely uncontested and flourshing in his happy-go-lucky leadership role, despite 1. gunner feeling that zinn is a colossal idiot 2. zinn having been one of the few who had survived and escaped in the first place.

on top of that all, it's an experiment, a simulacrum-- the entire city and all of the very real (if artificially created/reproduced) people inside can just be frozen or destroyed at will if the wizards have no use for them anymore. everything that rata novus actually was matters 0% here.

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

I need more post rescue fics

[buttercuparry]

In less than two months it will be October 7th again.

In less than two months, it will be a year of genocide. 

In light of this, I just have only one request for you; please do not give into whatever you are describing as “compassion fatigue” right now.

Realize that this is exactly what the colonizers conducting this genocide want you to feel. Realize that apathy during a genocide is what leads to the normalization of atrocities. Realize that this is a tried and tested method found throughout history; that now when the genocide is been widely documented by Gazans themselves- the only way the colonizers can get away with it is by running you down and making you feel hopeless!

They want you to stop caring about their victims and this is why you need to fight harder now more than ever!!

I request you to fight harder for every Gazan! And therefore request you to fight for my friend Siraj Abudayeh too, whose family recently faced another assault. His parents and siblings had to flee to him for protection, because their areas ( Hamad, southern Khan Younis) were marked for assault from occupation forces. With the number of people depending on him increased now, Siraj has a much heavier responsibility on his shoulders to raise enough funds to support all of them and their needs, when prices of food water and other essentials are already skyrocketing.

With the coming of the rainy season, there comes the danger of epidemics spreading from open sewers as well! Siraj’s son Amir has already fallen ill, and his other two sons are showing symptoms too- they are in dire need of medical treatment! I cannot overstate how badly Siraj and his family need these funds!! How badly he needs your continuous support.

There has been a significant drop in engagement with fundraising posts and I very clearly remember, someone tagging one of my posts with compassion fatigue. It shocked me to my core to think that the cries of Free Palestine could fade so suddenly; that after only a year some of you have begun to feel fatigued, from having to care about this.

Do not give in please; do not let the colonizers make you complicit in this horror! They know that if they can overwhelm you enough, then one day the videos and posts would stop hitting as hard and sooner or later everyone will stop talking about Palestine. This cannot happen again! Not when your attention can literally save a life! This is the power you hold- especially if you are living in the Imperial core. The colonizers are afraid of it. You have to know this and believe this!

So please do not turn away and help Siraj get to 50k as soon as possible!

He is currently only at $45,044 / $82,000 CAD

[ GFM LINK ]

[ Vetting at 219 on Hussein's spreadsheet]

And if you are having trouble donating to Siraj's fundraiser through Paypal, please get in touch with @malcriada .

[aenthroppe]

Guys I'm facing the most convoluted ttrpg dilemma rn

My character, Enty, has been given the opportunity to leave the party and actually get to lead their own life in safety.

Here's where it gets convoluted

Enty has first died like 7 years ago and was resurrected by the person who offered them an out to a safe life right now. This person, Tensblood, is shady at best but his care for Enty seems genuine.

After first dieing Enty has been on a revenge quest that filled their life with meaning. At first that included Tensblood but since then Enty has recovered/unlocked more of their trauma memories (and more importantly traded away every bad memory related to Tensblood) that has changed. For the record; they only have one person left to get revenge on.

I love this character and wouldn't want to give them up yet, and here's where it gets really convoluted. Some months ago their shadow separated from them. Since that point it has just been God knows where doing its own thing. So all the character development that Enty went through (most of all the reconciliation to Tensblood) didn't happen to the shadow. If Enty leaves the campaign I get to play on as the shadow (and be worse than ever :D)

So like I as a player would be good. I want to do shit with this shadow. I also really want the shadow to confront Enty but you can't have everything 😌😔

HOWEVER; It would be sooooo fucked up of Enty to leave the party now???? Like we're in such a bad spot. Literally everyone wants to kill us, all our loved ones are in very real danger, and there's no one we can trust. I can still completely understand and see Enty wanting to get out of that situation to finally get to live. But it would be such a betrayal to the party (not like they will face those consequences though :''^))

Basically I think it boils down to what Enty wants/what motivation(s) I want the character to pursue

Bc this comes down to what they want from Life/living. Do they want the past and the future that has been taken from them over 6 years ago? Do they want a future they had no say in but find security in? Do they want a future they need to fight tooth and nail for, but spend the corresponding present with the friends who were there for them at their worst, who they can trust unquestionably?