#and you continue blaming the people trying to help.

[pinkboaclub]

Sweet Thing

Summery: You and Harry are best friends, despite your 15 year age gap. One night, when your blind date goes wrong, he wants to make sure your night still ends in pleasure. {Older!Harry}

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut, age gap (15 years), mention of alcohol consumption, fem!reader

“Oh, what’s wrong, pretty girl?” Harry asked, his voice warm with concern as you trudged over to him from the bar, exhaustion written across your face.

The music in the background blared so loudly that it felt like it was vibrating through your bones, drowning out everything else. Every Friday night, Harry rented a private room at the local club for your group of friends to unwind, drink, and let loose.

You collapsed into his lap, resting your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh.

“I’m just so tired…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the thumping bass.

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer with a gentle smile. He knew how alcohol always made you sleepy and affectionate, especially after just a few drinks.

“Poor thing,” Harry teased, his lip sticking out in a mock pout. He was used to giving you the same spiel every Friday—how he knew even a little alcohol would knock you out.

“I wasn’t even planning on drinking tonight,” you giggled drunkenly. “But then Eve and Clara dragged me to the bar, and I had one drink… and then two… and then three…it really wasn’t my fault.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll get you something to eat, at least. You need to balance out that alcohol.” He reached across the table to grab a small bowl of pretzels and nuts he had sent to the table the moment he saw you take your first shot, but the thought of eating made your stomach churn.

Despite the 15-year age gap between you—23 and Harry 38—you had always been close. You were just friends, of course, and had made sure to clarify that to everyone around you, but it didn’t stop people from speculating.

But could you blame them? You practically lived at his house, spent most of your free time together, and took care of each other like an old married couple.

You half-heartedly munched on a couple of pretzels, trying to settle your stomach. Just then, a waiter appeared with a glass of ice water, which you drank down in one go, the cold helping to ground you.

As your friends continued their chatter, some heading to the bar, others to the dance floor, you stayed in Harry’s lap, drifting in and out of sleep with your head tucked into his neck.

“We can head home if you want, bunny,” Harry murmured, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back.

“No, I’m okay,” you protested sleepily, keeping your eyes shut as you snuggled deeper into him. “Let’s stay for a bit.”

Eve, Clara, and a few others returned, laughing as they took their seats around the table.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever seen fall asleep in a club with barely any alcohol in their system,” Eve said with a teasing smile.

You managed a sleepy chuckle. “I can’t socialize without a little buzz,” you admitted, blinking your eyes open for the first time in a while as you sat up.

“As long as we get you on the dance floor later, I don’t mind,” Clara said with a wink, sipping on her margarita.

"Speaking of socializing," Eve began, eyeing you playfully, "Do you remember that guy we met at Jolie’s art exhibit? Elijah?" You nodded, though your memory of him was hazy.

"Well," she continued, "he kind of asked if I could set you two up on a date... but I told him I’d check with you first. It’s totally your call."

Maybe it was the alcohol, or just the idea of finally getting laid after months of dry spells, but before you could think it through, your words came tumbling out.

"Sure, why not? I think I remember him being cute. Is he nice?" You caught Harry’s gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as his jaw clenched.

"He’s a friend of Jolie and me from University," Eve said, her voice light. "He was closer to Jolie, but he’s sweet. Really into art and music. I think you’ll like him." Eve’s tone was upbeat, though the surprise among the other girls was palpable. You'd been known to avoid dating for months, and yet here you were, agreeing to a date in the blink of an eye. Without hesitation, Eve texted Elijah to let him know you'd accepted.

The next hour passed in a blur of laughter and bad jokes that were 10 times funnier thanks to the alcohol coursing through your system. After a couple more drinks, you, Eve, and Clara decided to hit the dance floor again.

"You’re coming with me?" you asked Harry, slinging your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Not really feeling it," he bluntly replied. "But don’t let me stop you."

You pouted, leaning closer to him. "You can go home, if you’re done. We could go home together." Your lips kissed all over his face, guilt creeping in as your drunk brain wondered if you'd done something wrong.

"No, no, sweet thing, I’m good. Just haven’t had enough to drink to feel loose enough to show off my moves," he chuckled, planting a quick kiss on your head. "Go have fun."

With that, you strutted away, immediately getting lost in the rhythm of the music. You couldn’t help but notice each of you was drunkenly dancing to a different beat.

"Hey!! Elijah texted me back!" Eve shouted over the thumping music. "He wants to take you out tomorrow!"

"Sounds good!" you yelled back, not even pausing in your wild dancing. "Any time after five works for me!"

When your legs finally felt like they’d given all they could to the dance floor, the three of you retreated back to your private room.

"I can tell by your face that you’re getting tired again," Harry teased, his voice warm as he glanced over at you. You sat down next to him, leaning into his side. "Time to go home?"

You nodded, already feeling the weight of your headache catching up to you.

"Okay, let’s go, sweet thing." Harry helped you stand, offering you a smile.

As was the usual routine after a night out—one of you sober, the other tipsy—the sober one would drive the drunk one home. When you were both drunk, however, it became a game of scissor -paper-stone to see who’d get the front seat in the Uber.

He gently assisted you into his car, a sleek black Range Rover, securing your seatbelt as you leaned back, closing your eyes in quiet exhaustion.

When you arrived at his house, he was there again, unbuckling your seatbelt and guiding you to the door with steady care.

“I’ll grab you some water and Ibuprofen. Why don’t you head upstairs and get ready for bed?”

You nodded in gratitude, your body heavy with fatigue as you slowly made your way up the stairs. Once inside his room, you went straight to the dresser, where you always kept a few pairs of pajamas for nights like this.

In his bathroom, your extra face wash, moisturizer, and toothbrush were neatly arranged….maybe people weren’t wrong to wonder if there was something more going on between you two.

Your hangover symptoms the next morning are what woke you up, head pounding and nausea. You opened your eyes, seeing Harry sitting up next to you, reading his book, shirtless.

“What a beautiful site to walk up to.” You groggily joked.

Harry looked up from his book, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he marked his place and set the book aside. His eyes softened as he noticed you, his hand gently your messy hair away from your face.

“How’s your head feeling?” he asked, his tone low and soothing.

You let out a groan in response, your mind scrambling for some semblance of clarity. Slowly, fragments of last night came rushing back. The dim, pulsing lights of the club. The laughter. The dancing. You winced at the ache in your feet, a silent reminder of how long you'd been on your feet. And then, a sudden, jarring memory surfaced—one that made your stomach churn in a different way.

“Wait… did I really agree to go on a date today?” You asked, barely believing it yourself.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle, his fingers still gently massaging your scalp as he looked at you with a mixture of affection and amusement.

“You did,” he said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You groaned again, sinking deeper into the pillow, willing the world to stop spinning. “Jeez, I can’t even remember the last five minutes, let alone a date,” you muttered, half to yourself.

Harry’s chuckle turned into a laugh as he shifted closer to you, his thumb brushing lightly over your temple in a comforting rhythm.

"I think you’re going to be just fine," Harry teased, his voice still soft with affection. "But I’m not gonna lie... I am interested to see how this date goes. Since you've been avoiding dating for so long"

"Yeah, well, let’s just say I’m not expecting anything amazing," you sighed, stretching your arms above your head.

Later that day, you found yourself standing in front of your full-length mirror, nervously adjusting your outfit. You weren’t exactly thrilled about the date, but you didn’t want to look like you didn’t care either. You settled on a simple black dress—something that was easy but still flattering.

You took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if you had something better to do. You could always call Harry afterward to complain about how terrible it went.

You arrived at restaurant where Elijah had suggested you meet. It had that typical artsy vibe—exposed brick walls, vintage furniture, and food that probably cost more than it should have. As you walked in, you spotted Elijah immediately.

He looked up as you approached, a confident, almost smug smile spreading across his face. “Ah, you made it,” he said, standing to greet you.

"Of course," you replied, offering a smile.

"So, what do you like to do?" Elijah leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table, his gaze more smug than ever. "What’s your thing? What are you into?"

The question hung in the air, a little too casually thrown at you. You hesitated for a moment, then smiled politely. "Well, I enjoy a bit of everything. Not really an expert in anything, though. I like books, music… anything creative, really."

He waved a hand dismissively, clearly not too interested in your response. “That’s nice. But honestly, I think everyone has their own version of what ‘creativity’ means. I think it’s just one of those things that gets watered down by society’s need to put things in boxes.”

You nodded, trying not to laugh at how seriously he was taking his own thoughts. The guy was talking in circles, as if he had an actual dissertation on his mind.

At some point during the evening, you realized that Elijah wasn’t going to ask about you or show any real interest in anything about your life. He kept dropping vague hints about how "complicated" he was, how misunderstood artists like himself had to suffer for their brilliance, and how he was just waiting for the world to catch up with him.

The only thing that really seemed to get him talking was his apparent admiration for himself.

Eventually, the awkwardness started to wear off, and he invited you to his apartment. Not that you were expecting anything from it—but you hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and the loneliness was starting to hit.

The two of you ended up sitting on your couch, sipping wine, your conversation moving toward more personal topics. It felt... comfortable, even though you knew it wasn’t exactly what you'd been hoping for. Still, you found yourself kissing him a little while later, your mind racing with that familiar nervous excitement.

Things moved quickly, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, both of you tangled up in each other in the dimly lit space of your apartment.

Time passed—minutes, hours, it was hard to tell. Eventually, you found yourself at the door, your dress wrinkled and your head spinning.

"Stay. Please," Elijah urged, his eyes softening slightly as he leaned in closer. “We could talk more. I really want to see you again.”

You bit your lip, your thoughts muddled. But, remembering the hours of excruciating conversation, you knew you needed to leave. "I have work in the morning," you said, even though it wasn’t true. The lie slipped out before you could even think about it.

Elijah’s face fell slightly, but he nodded. "Well, I guess that’s alright. But next time… Let’s make sure we have more time."

You smiled softly, but your mind was already elsewhere, already home and away from him.

You stepped out into the cool night air, pulling your coat tightly around your shoulders, feeling that familiar sense of discomfort slowly sink in. The date had been a total bust, and you couldn’t help but feel the sting of regret.

At home, after a quick shower to wash off the lingering feelings of awkwardness, you picked up your phone and texted Harry, hoping that he’d be up for a late-night rant.

"Can I come over to vent? This date was so annoying."

You didn’t have to wait long before his reply popped up. "Of course, pretty girl."

And so, you drove over, already thinking about how you were going to explain all the cringey moments to Harry, secretly hoping he wouldn’t say, “I told you so."

“You look like you had a blast,” Harry remarked dryly, opening the door for you.

You suppressed the urge to launch into a full rant. “Oh, yeah, great time,” you replied with equal sarcasm.

You both collapsed onto the couch— you sprawled out, Harry sitting up beside you like you were about to start a therapy session. Without missing a beat, you let the floodgates open.

“He literally talked about himself the entire time,” you began, voice dripping with frustration. “He asked me what I like to do, and as soon as I told him, he started lecturing me on his ‘interpretation of creativity.’ And it didn’t stop. For the entire date.”

Harry grinned, clearly entertained, as you continued your rant, eyes narrowing as you remembered every detail.

“And every conversation has to be this deep, philosophical, soul-searching dive— like, ‘We’re just floating on a ball in space,’ you know? The kind of thing you'd hear from the most insufferable kid in a first year psych class.”

You huffed, running a hand through your hair as the memory played in your mind. “Do you want me to continue?” You looked up at Harry. “It gets a little…18+.”

Harry's jaw slightly clenched, but he let out a chuckle. “Oh really? His personality wasn’t enough of a red flag?” He teased you, you burst out into laughter.

“Okay, okay, you have no right to judge, we’re both victims of making bad decisions when we’re horny.” You joked.

“Mm, I don’t know, I would’ve left after the ‘We’re just floating on a ball in space’ comment.”

“First of all, he didn’t actually say that…..that was just his vibe.” You corrected, both of you continuing to laugh. “And second of all, I KNOW you still would have slept with him, especially if you hadn’t been with anyone in four months.” You reminded him.

“Oh would I? No amount of horniness would have even made me go back to that type of person’s house.”

“You’re a liar. “ you said, dying of laughter. “Do I have to remind you of that girl you slept with, the one who kept saying ‘actually’ in front of very compliment, that you hated? ‘You’re actually funny. You’re actually kind of cute. You’re actually smart. What was her name? Lily? Lucy?”

“It was Laura.” He sheepishly corrected you

“And if I remember correctly, it wasn’t just one night, even after she described your sex as ‘actually good’, so I don’t want any judgment from you.” He surrendered, and let you continue.

“I’ll spare you the intimate details…I’ll just say, I didn’t necessarily leave satisfied.”

“Did you finish?”

“He finished. I didn’t.”

“Y/N.” He titled his head towards you in disbelief.

You stayed silent, almost trying to hide a smile out of embarrassment. He shook his head in disapproval.

“This is why I don’t go on dates. All I got was a shitty dinner and I still haven’t had a non-self inflicted orgasm in 4 months.”

He held his arm out as an invitation to invite you closer to him. Accepting his invitation, you leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder.

“Did you go home and…help yourself?” He asked, rubbing your back in consolation.

“No! I went home, took a shower, and then came straight here!” He chuckled, pulling you into his lap, making you straddle him.

“You don’t have to end the night unsatisfied,” he teased, his voice low with a playful edge.

“You promised no judgment,” you laughed, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. His silence, paired with the look in his eyes, made it clear he wasn’t entirely joking.

“I’m just saying... there’s an easy fix,” he replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Both of you laughed, though the underlying seriousness in your tones couldn’t be ignored.

“An easy fix? Like what?” you asked, your voice dropping slightly, the flirtation slipping into your words.

“Well, let’s say you wanted to,” He guided you off his lap, sitting you next to him. “You could lay down right here.”

You lowered your back onto the couch, your heart pounding harder than ever.

“Is this okay?” He clarified. You nodded and he continued. “I could come up here, make you feel better.” He crawled up to your neck, laying kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone.

He kneeled down on the ground in front of the couch. His hand shifted down to the button of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them and lowering them down your leg.

“You're in control here. Anytime you want to stop or do something else, you let me know, I want to make you feel good.” Your chest quickly moved up and down and you hummed in acknowledgment.

He grabbed your leg, placing it on one of his shoulders, kissing the other leg until he got to your inner thigh. Before he could continue you grabbed the ends of your top, quickly pulling it off to reveal your bra. Harry gave you a cheeky smile before he continued.

He kissed the insides of your thighs, sucking the delicate skin until a string of tiny purple bruises dotted your thighs.

“Please, Harry.” You whined in an impatient tone.

His eyes shot up to your face. “What do you need, sweet thing?”

“Everything. Your tongue. Your fingers. Please…please Harry.” The eagerness that had been building up in you for the past four months started to come up all at once.

“You need to learn patience, baby.” He teased you, lightly grazing his lips along your inner thigh. Finally, he grabbed your underwear and helped you out of them.

He planted his lips over your clit, expertly curling his tongue around the swollen area and flicking until your hips bucked. His arms curled around your thighs, pulling you to him and splaying a hand over your stomach to keep your hips still. He flattened his tongue against your clit to give you the pressure that you desperately craved.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny. So wet. Is this all for me?”

You hastily nodded, unable to speak.

Your hand tugged hard on his hair as his tongue worked delicately hard across your clit. Harry took one last look at your flushed face before moving his fingers at a punishing pace, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could tell that you were holding back a bit, since you two had been friends for a while, yet this was your first interaction past a simple cuddle. He lifted his mouth from you.

“It’s alright, sweet thing. I got you, I want to make you feel good.”

He went back to pleasuring you, his ability to make you feel this good felt so natural. You focused on him, trying to push any nerves to the back of your head. His hand that rested on your stomach grabbed your hand, wrapping his fingers around your hand, giving you a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

A shudder rippled through your body and a deep moan erupted from your throat as you came around his fingers. Harry focused on you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

He climbed back up to you, sweeping your hair from your face and kissing your forehead, your nose, and your cheeks. “It’s okay, sweet baby.” He cood, your eyes stayed closed as you catched your breath.

You mindlessly pulled him closer to you, hiding your face in his neck, needing immediate aftercare after your powerful orgasm.

“Wanna go upstairs…an-help you.” You breathlessly begged, kissing his neck and lowering your hand down his abdomen.

“Okay sweet thing, let’s go upstairs.”

[read part two here!]

[quarterlifekitty]

little continuation of my idea for John in this post

imagine John scrolling through r/AITA. He likes a bit of drama. Likes to judge the relationships of people he's never met and will never meet. It's his reality TV. And in the sea of people who are too nice to break the kneecaps of their woefully shitty partners, he sees a post from you:

It's about your boyfriend throwing out some empty jars you'd saved even though you'd told him you were planning to use them, he'd insisted they were taking up space-- that you were essentially hoarding trash. And he could tell just by reading how sad it had made you, and it infuriated you how willing you were to accept the blame-- that maybe you were being the asshole and your dickhead boyfriend was just trying to be helpful.

As more people asked questions for context, he learns more about this sham of a relationship. Three years and this guy is just a boyfriend? John's livid. Such a shitheel of a man leading on a sweet little thing like you. Liked making candles and decorated pen holders from the little jars your yogurt came in. And he hadn't even locked you down! John would've had a ring on your finger after a couple of months, max. You'd be on your second or third baby if he was the one looking after you the past three years.

You're using a throwaway account, but it's not hard for him to pull a favor or two and find your main account. And he sees you doing all these adorable little things. Showing off your crafts, how you like to reuse things, how you like to neatly budget yourself and how you can't resist a sale-- he sees this full record of all the little troubles and treasures you come across. Troubleshooting a new computer program, asking if this little patch on your bathroom wall looks like mold, your good humor when showing off your messy first attempt at using a russian piping tip while frosting cake flowers. And in every little detail he finds another thing that should be cherished, another worry that should be set right for you, another thing that should be taken care of before you even have a chance to think of asking strangers online for help.

You post a lot of pictures. It won't be hard at all to find you and show you how things should be.

[starry-eyed-psychopomp]

REAL. People in this fandom bend over backwards to blame Wei Wuxian for every little thing, as if the entire point of the series wasn’t that he was being used as a scapegoat.

Like, Wei Wuxian is an unreliable narrator, specifically in the sense that he has an incredibly low sense of self-worth, defaults to blaming himself for everything, excuses any wrongdoing done to himself, and represses the memories of his own trauma. And he’s like that specifically because of his upbringing with the Jiang. Madame Yu blamed him for anything and everything, Jiang Fengmian enabled her and made Wei Ying feel like every bit of kindness incurred a debt that had to be repaid, and Jiang Cheng relied heavily on Wei Ying taking the blame for everything, so much so that he never really learned how to manage his emotions in a way that wasn’t blaming Wei Wuxian. He was raised a scapegoat, and that continued on in his role as the Yiling Patriarch. People blamed him for anything and everything, because it’s easier to pin all your problems on one convenient target than accept the complexities of a situation (and reflect on your own culpability in them).

Over the course of the novels, we see a lot of people blaming Wei Wuxian. Madame Yu and Lan Qiren are the first, and Jiang Cheng picks up soon after. Once the Sunshot Campaign ends, everyone is quick to blame every little thing on him and his cultivation. Then people like Jin Guangyao take advantage of that and manipulate it in their favor. Jin Zixun blames him for his stupid curse, then Jin Zixuan pops up and starts blaming him for the entire fight. There are mobs of people at the Second Siege of the Burial Mounds who blame him for all sorts of unreasonable shit. Jiang Cheng is CONSTANTLY blaming him for anything and everything: Lotus Pier, his parents, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli, none of which were actually his fault. Shit, after the Golden Core reveal happens, Jiang Cheng starts blaming Wei Wuxian for the fact that he can’t blame Wei Wuxian for his problems anymore! And don’t get me started on Lan Xichen and the “his only mistake was you” conversation, as if Lan Wangji’s incredibly inobvious crush was somehow his responsibility to reciprocate while starving to death and trying to prevent a genocide. As if Lan Wangji’s punishment was his fault, despite the whole point being that Wei Wuxian was telling him to stop trying to help him. People lob so much shit at Wei Wuxian, and within the context of the novels, it is abundantly clear that it’s all just SHIT.

And the thing is, the novels understand this. Even though Wei Wuxian might not personally blame characters like Jiang Cheng or Lan Xichen for their reprehensible actions, the narrative ensures that they face consequences. Like, people get upset about Jiang Cheng’s ending, but he had ample opportunity to make amends with Wei Wuxian, and he refused. He just kept blaming him! Jiang Cheng never would have had to learn about the core transfer if he’d just shut his damn mouth and put the whip away, but he wouldn’t, so his entire fragile sense of accomplishment was destroyed. Now, he can’t blame Wei Wuxian for all his problems, because he knows Wei Wuxian gave up EVERYTHING so that he could lead the Jiang sect and be a powerful cultivator. And he can’t cope with that, so he ends the series unsatisfied and in seclusion.

And then look at Lan Xichen. Wei Wuxian never blames him for the whole mistake thing, but I really don’t think we’re supposed to see Lan Xichen as being in the right in that conversation. Like, first of all, he’s needlessly cruel. Second of all, with what we have read about the Second Battle at Nightless City, how would it be in any way reasonable to describe Wei Wuxian as being “satisfied with the killing?” People make Lan Xichen’s actions out to be understandable concern for his brother, but then Wei Wuxian gets nothing in regards to his own grief over the deaths of his sisters? Third of all, Lan Xichen is, at that moment, STILL making allowances for Jin Guangyao, even knowing the awful shit he did. Pot, meet kettle.

And that’s the thing! Towards the end of the series, the cultivation world’s mob mentality shifts from scapegoating Wei Wuxian to scapegoating Jin Guangyao. Technically a more worthy target, but even Wei Wuxian himself expresses discomfort at that shift. Lan Xichen, who still loves Jin Guangyao and is probably shaken by his own guilt over the part he played in his schemes, defaults to scapegoating Wei Wuxian instead. And sure, this scene happens in large part because of the narrative need for wangxian to get their shit together, but it still contextualizes Lan Xichen’s arc’s conclusion. And I’d argue that’s why he ends the series miserable and in seclusion too. He needed to be strong armed into feeling guilt and taking responsibility for his actions.

But back to the main point: I think a lot of people don’t understand that Wei Wuxian largely isn’t to blame because most of this comes in as subtext. Wei Wuxian is the narrator and he often tells us that everything is his fault, that the things he’s put through aren’t so bad, but in moments of flashbacks, when he’s knocked out or using empathy and doesn’t have so much control over the narration, we see more clearly that he had noble intentions and was consistently backed into a corner. Meanwhile, we’re seeing all these other characters turn a blind eye to injustice (or actively participate in it) and then turn around and say UNTRUE SHIT about him. Even though the narrative doles out karmic punishments for characters’ fucked up actions, the fact that Wei Wuxian doesn’t SAY they’re wrong and deserving of consequences trips people up.

MDZS is a story that really needs to be read with a critical eye. I feel like a lot of people just hear that Wei Wuxian is an unreliable narrator and decide that means he’s crazy and can’t be trusted. Or they see that he uses ~dark magic~ and has technically killed a lot of people and decide that means he’s “morally grey” or a war criminal or smth. Or they personally like Jiang Cheng or Jin Guangyao or Lan Xichen, and end up blind to those characters’ flaws and resort to the same scapegoating of Wei Wuxian that those characters engage in. And that’s whatever. You’re allowed to like flawed characters. It just bothers me that this leads to SO MANY misinterpretations of the books. Or when people go too far in trying to make the conflicts in the story seem like ~both sides~ are at fault, and it ends up with some…questionable real-world implications.

AND it fucks with the themes of the story, which include some very poignant messages about propaganda, scapegoating, the ways that people in power shift blame and make themselves out to be victims, and how people can be pushed really far when backed into a corner while still being fundamentally good and deserving of happiness. A cornered dog is going to bite, it’s fucked up to criticize people for the methods they use to crawl out of hell, especially when YOU should have lent them a hand, etc.

Rant over. For now.

It frustrates me so much when people use Jin Zixuan's death as some kind of proof that Wei Ying was out of control because you do remember he was being attacked at the time, right? Like he accepted the invitation to see his nephew in good faith, and instead, he was attacked. Violently. With the intent to kill. They were shooting arrows at him. If he hadn't spurred Wen Ning into action, he would have been killed. Like, you guys remember that, right? And it's not like he could just hop on his sword and fly away. He was cornered, and the only way out was to fight.

I'm not blaming Jin Zixuan for his own death, that blame lies solely on Jin Zixun, but I still think it was incredibly stupid of him to walk right into active fight zone and not expect to get hurt. Also, why was he telling Wei Ying to stop when Jin Zixun was still trying to kill him???

I don't understand this need to find something to blame Wei Ying for. He's always acting in defense. Against forces greater than him. He's reactive. He rarely actually starts things first. Like yeah he's a flawed character but that doesn't make him automatically culpable.

People at Nevernight were calling for both his blood and the Remnants, and he's supposed to just take that???? Just let it be? Take the Remnants and hide??? To where???? Wei Ying was so desperate to find them a place to go the first time that he took them to the Burial Mounds. The Burial Mounds. Do you know how desperate you have to be to consider a haven for corpses and ghosts as a safe haven??? Where else was he supposed to take them???

Even then, THEY shot him first. He didn't even make the first move. I do not understand why people think Wei Ying is in the wrong for simply fighting back to protect people he cared about.

For the love of God, someone needs to explain this to me because I'm really sick of this fanon character assassination

[ae-azile]

Untitled Fadel/Style Fic Preview: Post 1x07

Style meant it when he said he deserved to die at Fadel’s hands. He never wanted any of this to happen. He could have told Fadel that he never personally spoke to the cop and didn't even know about Kant being coerced into becoming an informant or Fadel being a hitman until after they started dating. He could say that he simply agreed to seduce Fadel in exchange for a car.

Somehow, that sounds just as bad. And if he puts all the blame on Kant, that makes him more of a snitch. Style never even wanted to be a snitch.

“I really do love you,” Style says to him, keeping his eyes on the road, “Even when you point your gun at me, my heart flutters in my chest-”

“Shut up,” Fadel says, pressing the gun further into his side.

Style rolls his eyes at the order. As if Fadel would shoot him when he's the one in control of the car.

“I can't be quiet on car rides,” Style says, “It makes them go by too slowly. The music is great, but we already established that we have different tastes. Let's talk-”

“Style-”

“Fadel,” Style counters, “I’m bored. Let's talk.”

“I'm not going to talk to some fucking snitch.”

Style groans at that, “Whatever you tell me will die with me! You’ll make sure of that!”

“No.”

Apparently, Style will just have to deal with Fadel’s decision, so he focuses on the road until sunset. It's only when they are running on fumes that he pulls over.

“Did I say you could stop?” Fadel asks as Style pulls into the parking lot of a fuel station.

“I'm sorry,” Style says, hopping out, “I didn't realize your car runs on psychological, emotional, and sexual tension! You should have told me you were this environmentally friendly.”

“Get back in the car.”

“I'm serious. I'm proud of you,” Style says as he pulls his card out. He is a gentleman, after all. He is going to pay for everything on this impromptu trip, “Regular, right? Some people think they are pampering their car by getting a higher quality than they need. It's truly unnecessary. Please tell me you're not one of those people.”

Fadel says nothing. Maybe he is that kind of person and is just embarrassed. Style won't call his boyfriend out on it.

“I got you,” Style says with a grin, “You just relax!”

“Do not use your card.”

Style lets out a scoff, “I am a gentleman! I want to pay, I mean it-”

“So that your location can be tracked through your purchases?” Fadel asks suspiciously.

Oh. Style truly didn't think of that. This is another reason he loves Fadel. He's smart.

“Well, then how else am I supposed to take care of you?” Style asks, “I mean it, Fadel! I am a mechanic! Masculine and tough. A true man! It’s in my nature to take charge-”

“I have cash,” Fadel says, getting out as well, “Walk into the store. I am right behind you. Don’t think of doing anything stupid to try and get away from me.”

“That would be stupid because that's the last thing I want to do,” Style says, putting a hand on his hip. Despite this being the honest truth, Fadel looks unimpressed and continues to look that way until they pay in cash and go back to the car. Then, Fadel gets back in the passenger seat so that Style can take control as every higher being in existence intended. He presses Regular Unleaded, lifts the nozzle, and inserts it into the jeep. He then flicks the lever so it will automatically fill the tank and walks over and rests his arms on the rolled down window before smiling at Fadel adoringly. Because that's what he truly feels. Adoration and love, even now.

Maybe especially now.

“I really do love you,” Style says gently, “I'm sorry if my initially uninformed involvement in spying on you broke your heart and made you think otherwise. This is why I wanted you to tell me about your real career yourself! I wanted to help you out of whatever life you found yourself in! We could have run away together. Fled the country. I think Japan would have been good. I could work for Toyota there. You think they’d hire me?”

Fadel still says nothing. He's a man of such few words. Then again, Style likes that. If Fadel talked as much as he did, they would be interrupting each other all the time. He wishes Fadel would talk a little more though. Share things with him. Be vulnerable with him. Fadel might need a good cry. Once that thought enters his brain, Style knows it to be true. Maybe that should be his mission, to get Fadel to have a cathartic sob-fest where Style comforts him and tries his absolute best not to crack jokes.

“I think they would hire me,” Style continues, “Pa, too. I would need to bring him with us. He really likes you, you know! He likes you better than any other guy I’ve dated and he has happened to cross paths with. I mean…it's not hard. I’ve dated a couple of assholes. But he recognizes a good person when he sees one. He even told me he approved of you and wanted you around more often. He thinks you're a good influence and that you balance me out.”

In response, Fadel points the gun at Style’s face. Style smiles and kisses the tip of it sweetly. It's only then that Fadel jerks the gun back and looks at Style as if he has lost it.

He has lost it. For Fadel. This hiccup isn't going to get in the way of what he feels. He was afraid when he woke up by the pool, but now he has come to a decision. He's spending this trip with three goals in mind.

1. Find Kant - preferably not dead or seriously injured - and ensure he makes it home safe.

2. Find Bison and talk him down. He's pretty sure Bison is more dangerous than Fadel is. His prettiness and petite stature are both incredibly disarming and work in his favor. Style respects it.

3. Make it clear to Fadel that Style is unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him, like Bella was in love with Edward in Twilight. Their relationship probably isn't even as toxic as theirs. There is no creepy, Italian vampire council or ninety year age gap, although Fadel may currently thirst for his blood. But that doesn't matter. If Bella and Edward can overcome all those things and magically conceive a child, then Style and Fadel can too.

“Why are you just staring at me? Why did you kiss my gun? What is wrong with you?”

Style snaps out of his dreamy thoughts and ambitions as he meets Fadel’s glare.

“I was just thinking of us magically conceiving a baby.”

Fadel’s glare turns into a bewildered, slightly disturbed gawk. He's warming up to him again. Style is sure of it.

[fan-a-tink]

Character Appreciation Week: Crystal Palace

For me, Crystal's journey is so much about justice & solidarity, about recovery & chosen family, and about learning who you are and how to make peace with yourself and your past. Crystal is one of the most complex characters I know: she is messy and flawed and kind and determined and snarky and loud and everything all at once. Her desire to help other people, and especially other women and girls, sets the whole show in motion and continues to inspire her and those around her throughout the eight episodes. She herself fell for the pretty face of a boy who turned out to be a demon, and she completely lost herself and her memories as a consequence of David's abuse. And even though she doesn't know who she is, she is guided by her innate sense of justice, trying to help others from avoiding a similar fate, standing up for women who have fallen victim to men and powerful supernatural creatures. She finds a purpose in the agency, a new life with people she cares about.

And this becomes even more important once she gets her memories back. The whole time she held on to her old life, trying to get back to the parents she desperately hopes are searching for her, only to find out they didn't even care enough to notice that she was missing for weeks. The life she thought she wanted to remember turned out to be filled with disappointment, loneliness and petty distractions. But everything is different now, because she is no longer alone and while removed from the toxic environment of home, she was able to just be and form connections with people who genuinely care about her, who want to help her like she has helped them. She is able to make peace with herself and her past because of who she has become and what she is doing every day to help others and become better.

If I think about all the shit she goes through in season one, it's actually incredible that she isn't more "difficult, willful, combative" (👀). Can anyone blame her for snapping at people from time to time, for being angry and annoyed and confused, for not being able or willing to swallow her emotions. But so so often she actually tunes into the emotions of others, listening, comforting them. She is an incredible friend and detective, who "does what she has to in order to close a case", all the while becoming the most powerful member of the agency and discovering completely new facets of her psychic abilities.

Even after three far too long paragraphs I feel like I have only barely scratched the surface of the incredible depths of Crystal's character. What a privilege to know you, Crystal Palace Surname-von-Hovercraft.

[labyrynth]

sorry i need to take a minute i just saw someone claim that obama didn’t give a shit about universal healthcare.

obama. titular obama of obamacare. aka the affordable care act.

aka the only fucking reason people with preexisting conditions haven’t been barred from having health insurance altogether.

the thing that has since been hailed for the good it has done in making healthcare more accessible.

the thing republicans rallied against for years and vowed would overturn the second they came into power.

the fucking gall

[overnightheartbeats]

Isaac didn't comment on anything Wally was telling him. He had pulled some of this from his file after all. Graduating top of his class, the divine intervention from the late Agent Hurst. His question about becoming an agent seemed rhetorical, though it did invite him to answer. But, before he had a chance, Wally continued. "From analyst to field agent." That doesn't just happen. Isaac just found it so interesting how easily that agent maneuvered through the agency and set Wally up to exceed expectations. Isaac had seen that too. All supervisors had nothing but good things to say about his work. Even the performance reports from Karina were filled with compliments. "You've been at this for a long while, maybe at first you owed him. But he kicked the bucket, a while ago." Why was he still there?

Leave it to his timing, of course. Isaac's question being answered. His head tilted curiously at how adamant he was to not go against her. It did sound like loyalty, something that was burning on his tongue to question. "Your niece?" What the hell was he...? Ah. "She has your niece." Not holding her somewhere, he'd assume. Isaac figured Wally wouldn't be standing here talking to him if that were the case. If his initial reaction was any indicator, chances were, he'd be tearing the place apart. Isaac wouldn't blame him, he'd do the same for his own niece. "If your niece is at risk, why wouldn't her parents deserve to know? It's not about whether I blab or not, but if we're going to work against Karina, I don't feel comfortable leaving your niece on the playing board." His frown was quick to make an appearance when Wally poked his chest, he wasn't serious. "You've made your point. That's why I'm here gathering everything before we go in."

Medically induced coma, therapy, and all the other things he mentioned. Karina's vendetta against him had to be something deep, because, even from his limited viewpoint, it was clear she was trying to wipe him off. Laser focused on destroying him. "That does sound pretty damning. Canary's? I won't ask if all the information I need is in front of me. Trust me, I'm not interested in involving more people in this. Everything you say seems to end in multiple injuries. I have to say I'm impressed you're not dead yet." Did Isaac struggle just a bit to say that? Yes, maybe. Just when he thought they were doing better, he seemed to say something to irk him once again. His eye roll was impossible to hide. Ask someone to not get caught, and in the same breath tell him to not lurk. Make it make sense. "I won't lurk if I don't have to, but don't kill me if I still lurk next time I see you." With that, he adjusted his jacket before making his way out the same way they had come in.

The walk back to his car should've helped Isaac cool down and find his footing again. Sure, Wally was irritating him to his very core, but he still deserved the help. Yet, Isaac couldn't look past the insane amount of frustration he felt dealing with him. Once he was back in his car, he dialed the person who could give him some clarity. The person he trusted with advice and the wake up calls. His brother. "I don't even know if I'm calling for you to talk me out of this or to tell me to keep this case. I just can't do this. Is it crazy to think that I rather be chasing some sick criminal around the globe over being here? And no, Louisiana is not the reason I'm losing it." Though it also didn't help.

"Since I was twenty two." That was a long ass time ago. "I have an idea but nothing concrete that I can work with." He hummed as he confirmed without saying much on the matter. "He took me out of Quantico the day before graduation. Graduated top of my class. Star pupil and the like." It was almost like he was watching it replay in his mind as he talked about it. "Recruited me for a special Black Ops division. Needed someone like me and my skills. I wasn't supposed to be an agent you know that?" He didn't let Issac i interrupt. "I was an analyst. Desk duty bound. Except I had exceptional field skills. Part of the Christmas project. You guys know all about it. Your offices handed out those standardized tests to kids. Being smart didn't need to give such a sentence as this."

"I can't. Even if I wanted to. I can't and will not go against her. Not for loyalty but I can't risk my niece. Hence," he gestured around. "All this cloak and dagger bullshit. Her parents don't know so don't you go blab it." He got down from his counter and sighed. Poking his chest, "So if you got a plan. It can't be half cocked."

He hummed. "Madrid was the case I was in a medically induced coma for a month. Therapy was assigned too. My cognitive skills were not harmed luckily as I heard all of them say. But that was the only time she had a neutral stance. I can't prove she did anything to me but there's one I can. Canarys mission. You can't ask me how I got this." Another person he wanted to keep out of this was his girlfriend. Who back then was just a friend or an annoyance if you asked her back then. "Sustained multiple injuries then too. But if you're really here to help then," he shrugged and nodded. "Dont get caught." He knew he'd see this guy again. "Do yourself a favor don't lurk in the shadows I hate that.'

[frogsare-friends]

"war on palestine" "war on gaza" "israel palestine war" "israel palestine conflict" actually it's none of those things, it's a genocide and an ethnic cleansing, hope this helps!!

[hungee-boy]

honestly if you live in a blue state and can afford a decent home and all your meds/food/utilities i want to hear NOTHING in regards to us in red states

i live in greg abbott's red texas. you know, the largest state that borders the most vilified neighboring country and receives the majority of latino immigrants + has a huge black population + a lot of arab and asian immigrants

i will not tolerate blame put on the people in red states who are constantly harassed and belittled because of their race, origin, religion, gender, and economic status

you want someone to blame? blame your party who did nothing to get people out of poverty, did nothing in response to police violence and killings, did nothing for palestine/lebanon, did nothing in response to abbott and desantis' vitriolic anti-latino racism and policies

democrats did what they do best, follow the right-leaning trend and lose to republicans

[mx-paint]

it's so funny how terfs will come up with ways to say "I'm not a terf! I don't call myself that! But I believe everything they say and agree with everything they do and also donate to specific funds that say trans people should die in a ditch that are run by terfs! But I'm sooooo not a terf!"

[autisticlee]

more people need to acknowledge the fact that hard work, putting all your effort into things, and trying your best DOESNT GUARANTEE SUCCESS. more people need to accept and acknowledge that no everyone can succeed with purely their own effort! sometimes the only thing you get for your hard work and effort is getting burnt out. not everyone is capable of succeeding on their own without other people to help and boost them or pure "luck" and telling everyone they can't possibly fail if they are trying hard enough only hurts the people who genuinely do try and don't make it in the end. normalize hard work not paying off and failing with no success and not actually having a realistic way to succeed!

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

_______________________________________________

situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[reptilequeen2000]

I’m so tired of the distance I’m so tired of the loneliness eating away at me

[calyvt]

And I deserve a little treat :3

[halalchampagnesocialist]

How to spot Liberal Zionist Propaganda 101

This post is by no means exhaustive at all. There are many Liberal Zionist talking points but these are just some of the most common ones. While on the surface they seem a little naive and hopeful at best, they are very much harmful. If you claim to be an ally to Palestinians, this post is primarily for you!

For starters, liberal Zionists will often try to both-sides the issue of Palestine, talk about how it's complicated, they'll claim that the conflict hurts both Israelis and Palestinians, how the only way forward is one where Jews and Arabs "just need to get along," amongst other things. They also often like to centre themselves, even when acknowledging Palestinians as the victims of Israel or this "conflict." From time to time, they also like to engage in tokenising certain Palestinians whose views tend to more or less align with theirs. Here are some common arguments you may hear from them:

1. Any form of justifying Israel's existence or claiming that the only solution is two states

It does not really need to be said why justifying Israel's existence is harmful but justifying its continued existence also means legitimising Israel's land theft, its expulsions of Palestinians, and its ongoing harm to Palestinians and other populations. Reducing any sorts of “solutions” into a binary is unhelpful. Needless to say, a 2ss would not even address any legitimate concerns Palestinian have, such as the right of return, and would only legitimise Israel’s colonialism. Talking about a two-state solution also implies that the root of the conflict lies in Palestinians not having their own state rather than being an occupied people. It is very much also possible to construct a paradigm where Jews and Palestinians both live together on the same land as equal citizens that doesn't involve two separate states, much less an ethnostate.

2. Security for Israel could only come through peace

This is a similar talking point to the one above. Not only does it centre Israeli safety and security above Palestinian liberation but it mistakenly assumes that once Israel makes peace with Palestinians, it'll achieve security. The reality, however, is that Israel's imagined security has quite often come at the expense of peace. In fact, "peace" has just acted as nothing more than a smoke-screen for Israel to carry out its expansionist policies, particularly in the West Bank. When liberal Zionists talk about peace juxtaposed with Israeli security, they're talking about attaining a negative peace rather than a positive one.

3. Israelis are not their government.

This point does nothing to actually help Palestinians. It is also an incredibly tone-deaf thing to say when Israel has targeted many Palestinian civilians by having alleged proximity to Hamas, such as being family members of militants or leaders (inc. children!), civil servants in a Hamas-led government, or even any male above the age of 15 they consider to be a potential combatant! It also deliberately erases Israeli civilians' support of and culpability in Israel's actions towards Palestinians.

4. Netanyahu and/or the Israeli right are the source of conflict.

While it is true that things have gotten inadvertently worse under Israel's various right-wing governments, they are not the source of conflict, but rather a product of extremist nationalism and Jewish supremacy perpetuated by the system. Both the 1967 occupations and settlements were undertaken under centre-left governments in Israel, and Israeli policy under non-right wing governments has been just as harmful towards Palestinians and has paved the way for where we are today. Blaming Netanyahu just also obscures the violent nature of Israel's military occupation over Palestinians which long precede him coming into power.

5. Netanyahu and Hamas are two sides of the same coin

I don't think I've seen any allies give validity to this claim but it's an extremely reductionist claim and is sort of similar to the one above. Groups like Hamas are merely a response to the Israeli occupation while Netanyahu is a byproduct of it. While some Israelis may see Hamas or their actions as an "obstacle to peace," Israel's actions and policies long pre-date Hamas and how Israel is currently responding to Hamas is no different to how Israel has engaged with Palestinian militant groups in the past, regardless of political affiliations or political goals. It is also important to note that Hamas has agreed to the establishment of a state along 1967 borders while Netanyahu aims to prolong the occupation and empower the settler movement (some of whom are part of his coalition government) as much as possible.

6. Israel is not a settler-colonial state.

While it is indisputable that Jews have historical connections to Palestine, that doesn’t automatically make you Indigenous or negate Israeli settler-colonialism. Colonialism in particular describes a relationship of exploitation. There are many cases of this, but we most clearly see this in the West Bank where Israel exploits natural resources on occupied Palestinian territory for its own political and economic gains. In terms of settler-colonialism, it is widely known that Israel expelled hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to make way for Jewish refugees and migrants to the new state of Israel, and is still actively facilitating Jewish migration to Israel today while denying Palestinians their right of return.

7. (X) doesn't help Palestinians.

It is not up to anyone to determine whether certain tactics or strategies are helpful or not. This point only seeks to discredit pro-Palestine organising. Only Palestinians get to decide what is actually helpful for the cause or not.

8. Any sort of Hamas-blaming.

On the surface it may seem like there’s nothing wrong with this, but this point is often harmful and usually lends itself to right-wing talking points because its objective is to deflect blame away from Israel. Certain arguments blaming Hamas also aim to minimise Palestinian suffering perpetuated by Israel. It also paints Israeli violence as retaliatory to Palestinian violence which only obfuscates Israel’s (and by extension, the US’) role in its state military apparatus and the differing power dynamics between Israelis and Palestinians. In other contexts, this point seeks to also legitimise certain opposition, such as the Palestinian Authority. Hamas-blaming also tends to sometimes lead to racist diatribes about Palestinians and their culture.

9. Al-Jazeera is not a credible news source.

Al Jazeera is a news source like any other. It has varying editorial policies and therefore will have equally good reporting on certain issues while having terrible reporting on others. The difference is that Al-Jazeera's news on Palestine is credible because it comes directly from their Palestinian reporters on the ground and first-hand eyewitness accounts. Western news sources are no more or less credible than al-Jazeera. Compare this to CNN, NYT, and any other Western news sources where Palestinian voices are often entirely missing from the narrative.

10. Overemphasis of antisemitism on the left

Antisemitism is a real issue and has the potential to fester in left circles if not directly addressed head on. Combatting antisemitism is extremely important, however, it is not an issue exclusive to the left. There is also a double standard in that no one expects Zionists to call out Islamophobia and anti-Palestinian racism. Certain accusations of "antisemitism" also seek to distract from what's going on in Palestine by making it about Jewish comfort and feelings. Combatting antisemitism, Islamophobia, anti-Arab racism etc is always important as the basis of good politics.

Last but not least, be wary of native collaborators or any sort of normalisers! They are Palestinians or Arabs who try very hard to appeal to Western liberal consensus and can end up perpetuating a lot of harm to the cause and/or other activists. You will know them when you see them.

[letsbangts]

warm up || jjk

⤷ summary: when you help him warmup

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 2.1k

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, established relationship au

⟶ content: boyfriend!jk, idol!jk, porn with some plot, the other members make a small appearance

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: fingering, kissing/making out, nipple sucking, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), big dick jk, soft dom jk, rough & soft sex, creampie

↬ a/n: this was inspired by this request so @kloserpeenguintiljk I hope I delivered! & to everyone who reads hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! angel xoxo

masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

"Kook, I don't think we should," you insist while trying to pull your hand away from your boyfriend's grasp in resistance.

He ignores you, still dragging you down the hallway to his hotel room. You press your heels into the floor to keep from moving forward, achieving no success due to the man's strength. But you continue with your plea,

"What if the guys get angry with you?"

He looks back at you over his shoulder with a quirked brow, "Get mad at me for wanting to spend time with my girlfriend?"

"No, get mad at you for skipping practice," you say.  

It is the first time you have joined the guys on tour. When Jungkook asked you to come, the decision was easy; you would rather be with him than be apart for months. There is no debate about that. But you are beginning to worry if you are more of a distraction to him than anything.  

He should be downstairs for rehearsal with the rest of the group in the hotel's banquet hall, where they are currently staying. Yet here, the main vocalist is dragging you to his room for a quickie, even though it never is quick with Jungkook.   

"I'm not skipping practice; I'm just going to show up a little late," he shrugs. "Plus, I have over ten years in this career. I think I have earned that."

"I just don't want everyone to blame me for being here and having you run off," your bottom lip juts out in a pout.

You reach in front of the door to his room; he lets go of your hand to unlock it before turning around to face you. Jungkook steps forward to close the distance, his thumb gliding over your lip.

"No one is going to blame you. So put this back in your mouth." His tone is soft, his lips barely brushing against yours.

You comply, but a frown stays as you look up at him through your lashes. He grins at you and cups your face to give you a peck on the lips before reaching for one of your hands and taking it in his as he opens the door and walks in backwards, pulling you in with him.  

"And I don't think anyone would blame me for sneaking off with my girl if they had one as beautiful as mine."

"I didn't come along with you to keep you away from your work, Kook," you smile gently.

Jungkook closes the door and then closes the distance between you again, his arms slipping around your waist.

"I know it's my fault for having no self-control when it comes to you, baby," he winks.  

You playfully smack a hand against his chest with a giggle while he presses his forehead to yours.

"Now," Jungkook says, his voice low, "will you stop worrying and just let me love you?"

You bite your lip and nod, and he moves his hands to your hips, pinning you against the wall near the hotel room door.

He grabs hold of your neck and brings his mouth to it. Your chest against his chest, he presses his lips to your skin; as your fingers tangle in his hair, it becomes tousled almost immediately.

"Bringing you along with me was the best decision I could have made," he mutters between gentle kisses with his pillowy lips. His soft touch gets you riled up enough to drive you insane. Then the damn tease adds, "I get to perform on stage for thousands of people and then return to my room to perform for my girl."

"You are such an idiot, Kook," you laugh airily. "I'm an idiot, too, for forgetting how insatiable you are."

His voice falls quiet when he contests, “How could I not be when you are so irresistible?”

His lips meet yours; the kiss is slow and sensual, with tongue and teeth soon joining in, becoming sloppy and intense. Jungkook presses a knee against the wall, settling it between your legs to pry them apart and keep them that way.

He lifts up your skirt, grazing your thigh and trailing along the hem of your panties. His fingers skim along your pelvis until he slips under your panties, into the familiar warmth, finding your clit. He circles it gently, and you sigh at the contact. Then, his touch disappears, only for him to lick his thumb and resume his actions. He swipes your clit in a back-and-forth motion while diving back in for a heated kiss.

When his fingers travel down to tease the entrance, your eyes roll back, and your knees buckle. You moan when he parts your folds, pushing in only the tip of his middle finger.

"So wet already, baby?" he whispers before he shoves the entire finger into you, moving it in and out at an agonizingly slow pace.

You know Jungkook likes to drag things out, a tease by nature, and usually, you love it; however, he does not have time for that right now, so you take action to help move things along quicker and cup his erection, already hard beneath his track pants.    

He releases a breathy chuckle, catching on—“Are you rushing me?”

"You said this would be a quickie on our way up here, did you not?"

"That I did."

And with that, he pulls his pants and boxers down far enough to free his cock. You take him in your hand; he is big in your grip, thick and veiny. You pump him to get him hard quicker, but he is already fully erect in your grasp.

He groans and pulls back, dropping to his knees; he uses his inked hand to lift your leg, positioning it on top of his shoulder. Your breathing quickens, knowing what he is about to do as he kneels, his head disappearing under your skirt and between your thighs. Jungkook is truly not wasting time because he pushes your panties aside, and his mouth connects to your core instantly. He slides two fingers into you effortlessly, curling his digits. His fingers are so deep and relentless, matched by the slow and precise movements of his damn tongue.

It doesn’t take him long to increase his speed as he pulls you closer by your thighs and plunges his tongue deep inside you. You moan, and your hands grip his hair as your back arches off the wall.  

You stumble slightly, lost in the pleasure, and Jungkook notices, instantly reacting; his head emerges, placing your foot back on the ground as your panties slip back into place, and your skirt settles on your thighs again.

"As much as I want to take my time with you, we have got to move fast; get your cute ass on the bed, baby," he says, patting your ass and kissing your hair. However, his remarks contradict the gentle gesture as he continues, "We can always continue tonight, and I will make it up to you."   

You let out a gasp as a shiver moves through your body; his words empty your mind and stimulate every nerve in you. Yet you remain steady as he pursues your lips on the path to his bedroom. Jungkook uses his foot to push the door closed before you both stumble toward his bed, removing your clothes along the way.

You lie with his body hovering over yours, his hands returning to explore your skin, and his gaze trailing up and down as if he is seeing you for the first time tonight. You push his hair back as he aligns himself with your entrance, and then he sits up properly, beginning a sensual movement of sliding the head of his length up and down your pussy, thickness rubbing against your folds. You are so wet that he almost slips in when his tip reaches your hole. After a moment, he hovers over you again, one forearm by your head to brace himself as he pushes the head in.

He uses the proximity to kiss you again, whimpering into the kiss as you grip his shoulders for support. He parts from you, his forehead resting against yours.

"I am so fucking grateful to have you, baby. Not just on tour with me, but in my life," he whispers.

Does he not realize what he means to you? So you tell him.

Your hands hold his jaw, and you gaze deeply into his eyes, your lips brushing against each other.

"You are everything to me, Kook. I am so grateful to spend my life with you, and I could not be more proud to be by your side and watch you live your dream."

A hand settles under your knee, lifting one leg over his waist, starting to move. You moan as you pull him in, and he nuzzles your neck while he makes love to you tenderly. He gently leans forward, his arms going under yours to hold onto your shoulders, and then he pounds into you, causing the entire bed to shake.

Your voice trembles as you moan out his name, matching how your thighs quiver when he thrusts in with all his strength and as deep as physically possible while your eyes shut so tightly. His moans sound wild as his long locks hang and tickle your skin, damp with sweat, much like his forehead. Your hands glide over his smooth back again, now hot and covered in sweat.

The intense passion takes over both of you.  

"I love you," his declaration is muffled but becomes more distinct when he pulls back to look at you, expression moonstruck as he repeats, "I love you so much, Y/N."

“I love you, Jungkook.”

The exchange of intimate words between you encourages him to slow down as he gazes at you fondly. You push back his sweat-soaked hair from his eyes, which flit from your lips to your nose and then to your eyes as he caresses your cheek, crashing his lips against yours again.  

You feel the pleasure beginning to take over your body; you squeeze tightly around him.  

“I’m going to come, Kook.”

“Come with me, fuck–,” he groans as your nails drag over him. “Come for me, baby.” 

Your walls begin to flutter, pulsing repeatedly, and you can feel his cock twitching as you milk his orgasm out with yours. Affected by your clenching, he moans against your cheek, closing his eyes before you feel him empty his release into you; you shudder as he fills you up.

You remain like that for a minute, chests heaving and hearts racing. Your eyes flutter open, and you peer down to see how Jungkook is recovering, still pressed against your chest. You caress his hair, gently scratching his scalp as your body calms.

You’re still breathing hard when he falls back against the mattress next to you, his softening cock slipping out of you as he moves. You lie like that for a minute, your heart slamming in your chest, eyes dropping shut as you attempt to recover. His cum is starting to leak out of you and stain the sheets beneath you, but you can’t find a fuck to give about it right now.

You eventually feel the bed shift as Jungkook rolls over, pulling you close to him with a soft grunt. He gently kisses the crown of your head, and you can feel him smile a bit before he speaks with a cheeky grin.

“Now, I am ready for practice.”

Jungkook walks into the banquet hall with flushed cheeks and messy hair. A spring in his step as he approaches the table at the side of the room to retrieve his mic and in-ears.

The members are taking a water break when they notice the youngest's arrival and take in his appearance.  

"Look who decided to grace us with his presence," Taehyung remarks.  

"Done getting your dick wet and came to join us?" Jimin adds.

"For now, yeah," Jungkook smirks, "Why, jealous?"

Seokjin and Yoongi let out a snicker at the quip.

"Gross."

"Ew."

Taehyung and Hoseok exclaim simultaneously, both grimacing, while Namjoon stands there with a mortified look.  

"No, annoyed," Jimin continues, "You're supposed to be here hitting high notes, not making your girlfriend."

"I'm only thirty minutes late; I haven't missed much."

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, but Namjoon's voice cuts him off.

"At least he's here now; let's just move on, now that we have everyone here," the leader concludes before the situation escalates further.

The seven guys come together in the middle of the floor, getting into formation. Namjoon signals for the music to begin, and Jungkook comments before the track starts playing,

"My body is all loosened up anyway now, so just think of it as a warm-up."