#but i can surround myself with people that make me feel safe and supported and im allowdd to hyperfixate and be excited

[jackwhiteprophetic]

Guys I'm so excited, tomorrow some of my friends are gonna come around and we're gonna have pancakes and watch 9-1-1 from the start AAAARGHHHH!!!!!!

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men after hurting (y/n)

Pairing: Choso x reader; Gojo x reader

Word Count: 4,7k (Gojo's part is huge)

Warnings: this is drama over drama so be prepared, injury in Choso's part, mentioned pregnancy and breakup in Gojo's part, also Geto is an a-hole in here and it isn't 100% accurate to the original story-timeline, it's getting veeeery heated my lovelys, but also comfort but mostly hurt

As usual, I am very thankful for every little like, comment or reblog (thank you anon hehe). Let me know what you think of this, I literally poured my heart and soul into these two parts <3

Tags: @sanicsmut I just know you'll like this girl, @chilichopsticks

Choso Kamo

„(y/n), this is nothing I will discuss with you right now. Just stay here.”

“I can’t let you kill him, this isn’t right. His death won’t bring back your brothers!”, you shout urgently, hands desperately trying to keep him from walking away.

“I always appreciate your opinion and support. But this is something I have to do for myself. Don’t get in the way.”

With one last glance back he’s gone, lost in the neon signs around you, shadow immerged into darkness.

Your brain goes into panic mode immediately, palms sweaty just by the thought of him haunting that boy down. How strange it is that you are able to call Choso your boyfriend. Choso Kamo, a reincarnated curse that is over 150 years old. Choso Kamo, who seems cold-hearted to people when he first meets them. Choso Kamo, who loves his family more than anything else.

You know this isn’t him, that killing Yuji Itadori is nothing but an act of revenge for him that he hopes will make him feel better.

“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”

He never answered this question. He didn’t have to, given the fact that he just stared at you with furious eyes. You know all too well how it broke him to lose his brothers through the hands of some random jujutsu sorcerers. Fuck, you were just as heartbroken as he was. But if revenge is the only solution, wouldn’t this little game go on to infinity?

This isn’t the way, this isn’t the man you love. And you won’t let him go berserk only to regret what he did later on.

There is only one thing you can you now.

Your feet start moving on their own, following his shadow through the dark hallways of Shibuya’s train station. You aren’t a very gifted jujutsu sorcerer, maybe a grade 2 in sorcerer terms. But maybe your presence will be enough to stop him. Maybe his love is greater than the hatred he carries in his heart for that Idadori boy.

After all, it is a miracle in itself that he really loves you, a human being. Instead of killing you right on the spot he decided to safe you and even take care of your multiple wounds back then when you first met. You are not only hopelessly in love with him, but owe him his life. It’s time for you to give something back.

The only thing that echoes through the hallways are your very own rapid steps and sharp breaths. Please let him be okay, please let him still search for that boy. Your forehead glisters in sweat, the area only illuminated by the changing neon signs.

Finally a sound. You stop in your tracks immediately and close your eyes while holding your breath. It’s far away, but those are steps and dampened rumbling. It has to be him. And he’s definitely not alone. 

You can’t waste any time. As fast as your shaky legs carry you, you run down the hallway, eyes roaming around to catch a glimpse of his dark messy hair. Did he found Yuji Itadori? From what you’ve heard, Sukuna’s vessel is a quite skilled jujutsu sorcerer himself. But despite that, you know how much power Choso holds. If they meet, there will definitely be a fierce fight and your boyfriend might get hurt in the process.

But Yuji gets killed.

Suddenly water starts to soak into your shoes, pooling the surrounding area entirely. You furrow your brows. Where the hell is that coming from? Aren’t you underground? And also, it wasn’t raining outside…

Instinctively you follow the stream, noises growing louder and louder. Your heartbeat picks up, eyes wide open in realization. They have to be in there, in that toilet. The only think you are able to do is run. Water splashes around you, completely taking your already dimmed sight under the purple neon lights.

Until you see your boyfriend. Bending over the severely injured body of what looks like Yuji Itadori, fist ready to hit him with his last shot.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Before you are able to even think about a plan you sprint forward and shield the boy’s body with your own.

Only to get hit in your stomach with full force by your own boyfriend.

For a moment you forget how to breathe, the only sound being the constant ringing in your ears along with a silent cough. Are you dead? You can’t tell with your sight completely turned black and your empty head.

“(y/n)”, is all Choso is able to breathe out.

It happened so fast he couldn’t react anymore. Within the split of a second, he was only able to direct his fist away from your head into your stomach.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A trail of blood escapes your lips along with a cough, gaze completely empty. Did he kill you? His guts turn, he feels like fainting away. Oh god, what did he do?

“(y/n).”

You shouldn’t even be here in the first place. He told you to stay out of this, to leave this to him. Why on earth did you throw yourself in front of Yuji Itadori? How could you risk your life so reckless?

“(y/n)?”

You don’t react, glossy eyes wide open, directed into darkness. His shaky hands pull up your shirt, revealing a huge bruise. He broke a few of your ribs, that’s for sure.

“(y/n)!”, he begs again, repeating your name over and over like a prayer.

His hands grab your body and pull you away from Itadori while all he can do is kneeling next to you. Are you even breathing? Fuck, you are so cold and completely soaked in water that still pours down without mercy.

“(y/n)…”

His hand caresses your cheek gently. You just have to wake up. This is a bad dream, right? He didn’t just punch you with full force, he isn’t responsible for you laying here with broken bones and bruises. No, he didn’t just hurt the love of his life, his precious girlfriend.

Are those tears running down his cheeks? He can’t tell. The water pouring down on him makes it hard to see.

“Don’t…kill…him…”, you suddenly mumble.

Choso feels like flying and dying at the same time, relieved by hearing your voice while being absolutely crushed be the fact that he is responsible for your poor state.

“Why did you throw yourself in front of him, (y/n)? I never wanted to hurt you. I would have never hurt you…”, he stutters, pressing your upper body against his.

You cough violently, feeling as if your spilling your guts out every second. God, you feel terrible. If you move a single inch you’ll faint away into darkness.

But despite the pain that rolls over you like a tsunami, you force your eyes to look at him? His beautiful screwed up face, his glistening eyes. Is he crying? This might be the first time you’ve ever seen him like this.

“I know you didn’t wanted to hurt me. Did you kill him?”

Your voice isn’t more than a fade away whisper, almost too distant to get under the pouring water. But the second your words reach his ears, Choso can’t hold back any longer.

He’s crumbling in front of you like a piece of paper, hands holding onto you for dear life.

Choso almost killed you. The love of his life, the only thing that’s worth living. And for what? Because he was seeking revenge.

“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”

Your wise words repeat themselves over and over in his head. Fuck, if he only listened to you. He shouldn’t have agreed to work with Geto in the first place out of sheer rage. No, he could lay in bed with you at the moment, hearing about what is currently happening at Shibuya in the news.

Then this wouldn’t have happened. Then you wouldn’t lay in front of him severely injured.

His whole face is screwed up, trembling fingers clenched to tight that they bleed while a sob escapes his lips.

All of this is his fault.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I’m so so sorry”, he cries out, placing his head on your chest.

“Is he dead?”, you croak out, tired eyes wandering to the boy’s unconscious figure leaning against the wall.

“Yes…Yes he does…”

A weak smile forms on your lips. So this wasn’t in vain. After all, you reached your goal.

“Thank god…”, you mutter.

Choso’s guilty conscience eats him up from the inside. Why? Why the hell did he think killing Yuji Itadori is a good idea in the first place? Despite the deaths of his brothers, despite all the pain he’s been through, despite the fact that he isn’t even human.

He loves you with all his heart. Your gentle disposition that is the opposite of his cold-hearted one. Your friendly smile that outshines his emotionless expression every time. The way you love him although he didn’t even know what love is when he first met you.

You showed him so many facets of life and he tramples on all the things you taught him.

“I will get you out of here. And I promise will every fiber of my being that I will change, that something like this will never happen again”, he blurts out.

“You don’t have to change, darling. You just need to decide on your perspective of life.”

Everything hurts, you feel like dying from the inside. Although you don’t seem to bleed externally, the stinging taste of blood in your mouth tells you you are severely injured. A load moan escapes your lips when Choso gently lifts you off the ground, body screaming out in agony.

With a gentle kiss on your forehead and tears still running down his cheeks. Something like this will never happen again. Not through the hands of others and especially not his.

God, never again will he ever hurt you.

Satoru Gojo

Your fingers tremble uncontrollably as you try to figure out what you hold in your hands. Is this…positive?

Are you really pregnant?

Two lines. Two clearly visible lines. You feel like fainting and flying at the same time, your thoughts are racing.

Is this really happening? Are you dreaming?

No, the proof lies visible in your hands. You are pregnant. You are expecting a child with Satoru Gojo.

“Listen (y/n)…I’ve been thinking about this for a while now…Have you ever thought about having a baby? I mean, you’ve been my girlfriend for more than 6 years, my fiancé for half a year. I’ve never seen me as a father and I know this isn’t the best timing considering what’s going on in the word at the moment. But the thought of you with a precious baby belly, a child with your eyes…This thought filled me with so much joy recently that I wanted to talk about this with you.”

You couldn’t find words, his sudden outburst caught you off guard. But oh how much you thought about that too, how it would feel to have a child with the man you love more than anything else on this world, to start a family with Satoru. Tears started to sting your eyes, arms wrapped around him tightly.

“I would absolutely love that!”, you cried out, face buried against his broad chest while he stroked your hair just the way you like it.

“We don’t have to rush anything. Just living like usual without protection”, he mumbled against your head.

“I love you so much, Satoru. Nothing makes me happier than being with you. And maybe next year there will be three of us.”

He smiled down at you the way that always makes you see stars. God, how much you love that man. The thought alone to spend the rest of your life with him and your little family filled your heart with nothing buy warmth and joy.

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything else”, he mumbled.

Satoru. What are you supposed to do? Call him, text him, drive to Jujutsu High? You’re on your day off while he told you this morning that he’ll teach the new student, Yuta. As much as you’d love to get in your car immediately and meet him in person, you shouldn’t disturb him right now. No, this is something special. This needs time, a calm evening and privacy.

A little message can’t hurt though.

Hey babe, can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve got some exciting news. Love you <3

You let out your shaky breath, eyes darting to the test again. Is this really your life? It surely can’t get any better than that.

-Satoru’s POV-

“I hate so say it, but I guess there’s no way out of this”, Shoko comments.

But there has to be. After all, he’s the strongest, he’s the only one who’s able to protect you right. This shouldn’t be the only way to save you, there has to be more.

“I will find a way around this”, Gojo hisses through gritted teeth, hands so tensed up that his veins pop out.

“You can’t. There’s absolutely no way to keep her save. She’ll insist on going with you if you tell her. And if you don’t she’ll find out and come to your place. Or worse, someone else will find her. She is the safest when she’s gone.”

Fuck. Satoru slams his fist against the table, blood squirting. He knows she’s right. Deep down, he is very aware of the fact that no matter how he twists and turns it, you’re in danger. Suguru made that very clear. He has to make a decision now, even if it breaks his own heart.

“So what’s the solution then, huh? Breaking up with her?”, he barks at Shoko.

“If you really want to make sure that she’s safe and gone, yes. Aren’t her parents living far away from here?”

That’s not what he wanted to hear. Thick rage crawls up his spine and takes his sight. He’ll kill all of them. Every single one of these curses and Suguru’s accomplices. This shouldn’t be the only way, he shouldn’t have to break the heart of the women he loves most.

Fuck, how much he hates to see you cry. Just a few days ago, he told you that he wanted to have kids with you, to start a family, he proposed to you. This will not only break your heart, but shatter you into million pieces.

“I get that it’s rough and that you don’t wanna do it. But if you want to make sure that (y/n) is safe, you have to make her believe that it’s over.”

“What if I’m hiding her somewhere at Jujutsu High? What if I’m staying by her side?”

“She’ll never allow that and you know it. (y/n) would rather die herself than letting other people suffer because you aren’t there.”

She’s right. Deep down Satoru knows that every word Shoko says is true.

- Later that evening –

You almost fall off the couch in excitement when you hear keys turning in the lock. He’s finally home! It must have been a pretty rough day if he wasn’t even able to reply to your text. Your fingers hold onto the test in your hands for dear life, heart jumping up and down in joy. How will he react? Will he laugh, will he cry? You don’t know. But he’ll surely be cheerful.

“Hey babe, I need to talk about something with you!”

The sound of your joyful voice alone makes him want to break down. Fuck, you don’t deserve this, none of this is your fault at all. So why does he have to break your heart so violently? He shakes his head, blindfold covering his already glossy eyes. There’s no way out of this. He needs to hurt you in order to save you.

“Oh, there you are”, you breathe out when you catch a glimpse of him.

Satoru looks as breathtaking as always, albeit a little drained. It must have been a rough day for him. But your news will definitely brighten up his mood.

“Babe, there’s something absolutely exciting I have to tell y-“

“(y/n)”.

The harsh tone in his voice quiets you down immediately, the grin on your face washed away in the wind.

“I have something to talk about”, he announces.

Why does he have to be so cold? What has gotten into him? Worry lines disrupt your face.

“Oh, did something happen?”

The innocent tone in your voice kills him right on the spot along with your stunning glimmering orbs…No, he needs to do this. After all it’s for your well-being. You’ll see that too, hopefully.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

You hold your breath, eyes scanning over his stunning face for any hint of sarcasm, for an emotion. But no, all he does is staring down at you with stone cold orbs, arms crossed in front of his chest.

You feel like fainting, world collapsing around you. No, this can’t be true. He can’t be serious. Not long ago, he told you he wants a child with you, he asked you to marry him. Your heart clenches, tears start glistering in your eyes. This has to be a nightmare.

“No”, you breathe out, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I’m breaking up with you, (y/n)”, he insists.

This isn’t a joke or a dream. You can tell that he’s serious, that he means every word he says.

“Why?”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

You can’t believe your ears.

“Just yesterday, you told me over and over how much you love me, you…you had sex with me, Satoru. Just a few hours ago.”

You can’t stop your tears from falling anymore, the feeling of this indescribable loss pulls the ground from under your feet.

“It meant nothing to me.”

His words hit you with full force, pushing you to sit down in order to not collapse onto the floor. Was all of this a game for him? And what about…?

Oh god, you feel like throwing up.

“I’m pregnant, Satoru.”

His heart stops. Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, almost too low for him to understand. Did you really just say that?

“What did you say?”

“I’m pregnant!”, you suddenly scream on top of your lungs.

Pregnant… You’re pregnant. You’re expecting his child, the child he told you he wants. You’ll be family! This is absolutely fantastic, you have to celebrate-

No. Satoru stops the seed of joy in his heart immediately. Now is not the right time for that. After all, he’s about to break up with you at the moment.

“I don’t care.”

His word cut through his very own heart like a knife, your face twisted in agony simply takes his breath away. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve any of those venomous words he spits at you. But he does it so you are safe. Yes, over and over he tells himself that this is for your best, that at least you’ll be out of the firing line. You’ll be safe and sound, you and his unborn child.

“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something. I don’t want to see you here any longer.”

In this moment, you feel like dying. Your past, present and future plays itself in front of your inner eye, reminding you of all the precious moments together. Was all of this a lie? Does he even care about you?

Like in trance you get up, grabbing nothing but your wallet and phone. You need to get away from here before you break down completely. If this is how he feels, he doesn’t deserve to see your grief.

God, he wants to break down in front of your feet, completely mesmerized by the way you carry yourself so well after his harsh words. Hopefully you will understand that he did this for you. Even though he broke your heart, you’ll live. And this is all that matters…

“Goodbye then, Gojo.”

The venomous sound of his last name out of your mouth makes him collapse onto the couch the second you close the door behind your back, tears glistening in his eyes.

Why? Why on earth did this just happen? Why did he have to hurt you like this? God, please let you understand it when all of this madness is over. Please let you be okay…

- Day of the night parade –

“Oh dear, look at this”, your mother breathes out while turning up the TV volume.

You gaze at the flickering pictures without any emotions, dark circles surrounding your eyes from all the nights without any sleep.

Satoru? You haven’t heard a word from him since that evening. That evening that altered your brain chemistry forever. That evening that showed you his real face. Since you’ve had nowhere else to go and wanted to be as far away from him as possible, you stayed with your parents ever since.

“What is going on at Tokyo?”, your father mutters.

Huh, looks like absolute chaos. Your eyes widen at the sheer amount of destruction, the reporter whose head gets ripped away by…

Your heart sinks.

This was a curse, without any doubt. What about Satoru?

No. You shake your head vehemently. This isn’t about him. What about your students, Nanami, Shoko, all the others? Are they okay? What is going on there? Suddenly you feel like standing up, too excited to sit.

You swore to never step a foot into Jujutsu High again, to start over somewhere else. But this…You can’t just sit here in silence with all your powers while your friends might die through the hands of curses.

“I need to leave”, you announce.

“What? But you said you want to stay here. (y/n), if this is about him…-“

“It’s not”, you interrupt your mother immediately.

“I need to watch after my friends.”

Yes. Screw Satoru and whatever he’s up to. Mindlessly your hands caress your little bump. This is your responsibly, the least you can do.

- At Toyko –

“Gojo-sensei, (y/n) is here”, Maki announces through her communicator as you walk through the barrier with ease.

Impossible.

His eyes widen in pure horror. All this pain and grieving over the last few weeks, all the nights he cried himself to sleep because he missed you, the countless thinking about your precious little baby.

And now you’re right here where you shouldn’t be, running into the arms of Suguru without even knowing it.

“Oh, I didn’t expect he’d be so dumb”, a painful familiar voice behind you suddenly speaks out.

You turn around, taking in the appearance of none other than Suguru Geto.

“Are you responsible for this whole mess?”, you question.

He steps forward, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. Fuck, this isn’t good. Suguru is a special grade, he could kill you without even trying. Are your students around? Maybe they are at Tokyo, maybe they are safe.

“Did Satoru send you here? Apparently he doesn’t care about you”, Suguru’s voice comments dryly.

Your heart immediately stings in agony, fingertips trembling. Just a few innocent words that break you completely after weeks of pretending you’re okay.

“He broke up with me a few weeks ago”, you clarify.

Suguru breaks out in hysteric laughter while all you can do is stare at him and hold back your tears. How is he able to laugh about your feelings? Before he went berserk, you and Suguru got along pretty well. What happened to him?

“3 weeks ago, maybe?”

You tilt your head. Why that question? And why…why is he so accurate?

“Yeah”, you mutter.

“How ironic.”

“What’s so funny about that, asshole”, you bite back.

His figure comes to a stand so close to you that you can feel his breath creeping across your face.

“It’s funny that he tried to save you and now you’re standing right in front of me, (y/n).”

His words pull the ground from beneath your feet, thoughts racing so violently that you feel like throwing up. What did he say about Satoru trying to save you? What is all of this about? You lose your cool completely.

“What the hell are you talking about?”, you yell into his stupid smirk.

“I gave him an ultimatum. But now that you’re here already…Let’s get this over with.”

You aren’t able to properly understand a single word as he hounds a curse your direction.

“Why are you even here?”

Where is Satoru? What is going on here? Where are your students? So many unknown variables, so much pressure. You need answers.

“I’m here to kill Yuta Okkotsu.”

Your heart sinks immediately. Yuta? Suguru is probably on the hunt for Rika. No, you can’t let him get away with this.

“Over. My. Corpse.”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Oh dear (y/n). I always liked your charm, but nothing better than that.”

It’s hard to keep up with him without any weapon. Where is your dagger when you need it? You only have your powers and your combat skills to attack him. But Suguru isn’t dumb. It’s almost frightening, the way he keeps distance between both of you.

Your baby. Fuck, you need to be careful. After all, stress isn’t beneficial for your pregnancy.

And dying too.

-Satoru’s POV-

He runs as fast as his feet carry him, vision clouded by thick fear. He did all of this for you, to keep you out of grip for Suguru. And now you’re facing him alone, his students not able to help you. What about the baby? He needs to hurry. If Suguru harms one single hair on your head…

“Get away from her. Now”, he barks at his former best friend, positioning himself in front of you just in time before one of Suguru’s curses hits you.

“Ironic, isn’t it? That you even scarified your relationship only for her to run into my open arms.”

“I never thought you would go this far. She’s not only a jujutsu sorcerer, but my girlfriend. I thought you are better than that. Keep your hands off her or you’ll regret it.”

All you can do is stare at his broad back with tears glistening in your eyes. Is this why he broke up with you three weeks ago and left you alone pregnant? To keep you out of sight from Geto?

“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something.”

These three weeks of torture, of asking yourself over and over why you weren’t good enough and where you went wrong…because he was worried?

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”, you cry out, slamming your fists against his back over and over.

“Why did you just leave me like that? Why did you not leave me any choice? Why would you leave me standing in the rain pregnant? Why did you do this to me-“

“(y/n)”, he interrupts you, glossy eyes darted at you in a way you’ve never seen before.

Satoru grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him.

“Because I couldn’t stand you getting hurt”, he breathes out.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t watch out for yourself. Because I knew this was the only way to keep you safe, even though it meant breaking both of his into pieces. Trust me, I hated myself every single day over the last three weeks, wondering every miserable second how you’re doing. It made me lose my mind, (y/n). And now you’re here, right here where you shouldn’t be.”

“I’ve got hurt the second you broke up with me just after I’ve told you that I’m expecting your child!”, you scream into his face.

All the pain, the grief, the longing, the waiting. Everything crushes down at you and swallow you whole. All of this was in vain.

“I never stopped loving you, (y/n). On the contrary, my love for you is greater than my longing after you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, you can see him cry. Tears roll down his face uncontrollably, the ocean blue of his eyes disrupted by rough red.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your little moment here, but now that you’re already here, I can kill you, right?”

As if in slow motion Satoru turns around to his former best friends, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood spills.

“I will make you pay for every tear (y/n) spilled, for these weeks of torture. You will regret your threat for every single fucking day.”

“Let’s get it on, then”, Geto remarks dryly.

...

Hope you're doing fine. If you're still able to, feel free to tell me whenever you want a part ll of this and with you. Thank youu <3

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-week Day 6 - Dizzy / Drunken Concussion confessions

i'm challenging myself to keep each of these at 660 words; see day one for more of an explanation!

“C’mon guys, one of you’s gotta wanna ride this with me?” The others blink up at him, around at each other, “Seriously? No one?” 

“I’ll ride with you, Ed–”

“Oh no you don’t,” Robin interrupts, shutting down Steve’s very good idea about riding the Zipper with him.

“C’mon Birdie, let a man live! The fair only comes around once a year.”

“And someone only has one brain, one that’s been bruised one too many times already.”

“Pfft, you’re no fun.” he says, waving her off, “So who’s goin’?”

It’s actually Will that steps up to go with him, after Dustin’s enthusiasm for going is shot down by Steve’s “Hell no, Henderson, you’re breakable enough as it is already.”

He and Will climb into their already swinging little pod and sit down, strapping the well-worn buckles around them, “Y’ready for this, Baby Byers?”

“Uh.. Sure, Eddie, Ready!”

“Don’t be nervous little man, carnival rides are always safe.”

And fun. The Zipper’s always been his favorite at the carnival, can’t get the swoopy guts like this on just any ride.

Even Will’s having fun, no matter the apprehensive look he had when they got on.

“Okay, Baby Byers, this’s us,” he says when he feels their buggy do it’s final swoop into the loading area. He unbuckles his seatbelt, goes to stand, and gets a faceful of metal for his efforts.

The next thing he’s aware of is a concerned voice calling his name. 

“Eddie? Eddie! You okay?”

“Steve?” his eyes find the both of him rushing forward, “Stevie! Darling!”

“He was fine until the very end,” Eddie hears Will explaining from underwater, “He unbuckled just a second too soon and got thrown into the bars.”

Steve does his disappointed tsk at someone, “Ooh, you’re in trouble now.” he says to whatever unfortunate soul is on the receiving end. He can’t quite parse out who it is, probably whichever one of them got hurt on the Zipper.

“You’re the one who got hurt, Doofus.”

“He’s not Doofus, Birdie, he’s Dingus. Always getting himself dinged up.” She must be talking about Steve.. Wait.. “Stevie got hurt? Who hurt him?!” Eddie wheels around to look for the bastard who hurt his Stevie, only getting a swirl of color and a supporting arm to the chest for his troubles.

“Okay, big guy, let’s get you looked at before you do or say something stupid.” Steve says, pulling him up. “I’ll take him to the medical tent, he probably has a concussion.”

“You’re a concussion,” Eddie says automatically

“I’ve had a good couple, yeah.”

Eddie lets Steve lead him wherever it is he wants to go (“The medical tent, Eds, I’ve told you that already.”) and is soon laid back on a creaky examination bench.

“He’s gott’n a percussion, doc.” Eddie patiently explains to the volunteer nurse, “You gotta check ‘im out, he’s got an ass that never quits.”

“Never quits what, Mr. Munson?”

He’s not quite sure, actually. “Uh.. bein’ an ass.”

Someone’s doing a bad job at hiding their laughter. “Gotcha, I’ll make sure to take a look.”

“No, wait! You can’t! That ass is mine, sister.”

The nurse giggles again, “I’m sure it is, Mr. Munson.”

“Yeah you better leave, hussy–”

“Eddie!”

Oh no, Steve’s mad at him, “What?”

“You can’t call people that, especially not the ones trying to fix your head.”

“Hey, my head is great! Get compy– coplay– compli— I’m great at head.”

“I’m sure you are.”

Eddie can hear the smile in Steve’s voice, and makes a point to find it. 

It’s there beside him, surrounded by the most beautiful blush. “I love you, Stevie.”

The smile disappears, and that’s not what he wants to happen at all. He can feel his eyes start to burn with tears. “Eddie? Eddie, what’s wrong?”

“I made your smile go away.”

“No– Hey, it’s okay, I was just surprised; You’ll see it again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” The smile is back in his voice.

and, say it with me folks, they aren't even dating!!

if anyone doesn't know, this one on the left is the zipper

on AO3 here!

[greghatecrimes]

Okay. Buckle up babes, it's finally Foreteen time and I wrote an essay.

Foreman and Thirteen are so interesting to me in so many ways. You have Foreman, who thrives off of control, and Thirteen, who refuses to be controlled in almost every aspect of her life. In the sense of them as individual people, they both have a lot of their own issues going on. Hot messes, the two of them. But in the sense of them as a couple, I think Foreman specifically is the only one who has issues with the relationship. (Or rather, Thirteen's issues aren't being projected onto the relationship and causing difficulties at the end of s5/beginning of s6, while Foreman's are.)

Foreman's biggest thing, at least in the latter part of their relationship, is control in regards to emotions. After they found Kutner, he coped with everything by isolating himself. A huge part of me thinks that's because this terrible thing just happened, the floor just fell out from both of them in so many ways, and Foreman feels like he doesn't have a grip on anything anymore. The only thing he can control is himself, and how he reacts. So Thirteen? Even though she's his girlfriend and he's worked with her for two years, her emotions and reactions are fundamentally beyond the scope of his control; she's still a wild card. She's not safe. So instead of letting himself lean on Thirteen, letting them grieve together, letting them comfort each other, for his own stability, Foreman chooses to cope (and thus reject Thirteen when she reaches out for support) by retreating into an environment that he's intimately familiar with. He surrounds himself with only variables that he can confidently predict. It's his gut instinct. It's always worked before, so why wouldn't it work this time? Why would it have any reason to cause problems?

In season four and the first half of season five, Thirteen was very much the same way. When things became too overwhelming for her, she repeatedly dealt with them by running, by hiding; by trying to isolate herself from the people who care about her and want to help her. The same base principle drives them both at this point: "what's out of my control is dangerous in some way or another. The only one who's safe to be around is myself, because I am the only person that I can control." But by mid season five, Thirteen has come a long way from that. Slowly she's becoming much more of a "recovering control freak". She's starting to be okay with the fact that she's not always going to have the amount of control that she has right now. She knows that all of it is something she has to come to terms with, and slowly she's getting to a point where she's accepting her diagnosis and working on all the baggage that comes with it.

Thinking about that– the fact that, by mid season five, Thirteen is approaching a point in her life of letting go, of learning to 'go with the flow'; while Foreman is very much still on the side of "I thrive and keep myself safe by controlling every aspect of my life possible"– makes them fundamentally incompatible as a couple from the get-go, even with all of the chemistry they had. Because the moment they get together (the Christmas party in 5x10 "Joy to the World") is right after Thirteen's decided that she doesn't want to die; when she's just starting to process her diagnosis instead of running from it.

Do I think there was/is love there? Yes. They absolutely care about each other, both during and after the relationship.

Do I think they would have worked out long term? The simple answer is "no".

The more complicated answer is that if they had been able to avoid the fiasco of Foreman running the department and then firing Thirteen after House quit, I think they could have made it work. But it would have been rocky, and it would have been especially rough for Foreman. Extremely so if it were to reach a point where they've stayed together for years and years, and Foreman is with Thirteen when she really starts to decline with her Huntington's.

Foreman is Thirteen's friend; he's also seen people slowly wither away from degenerative disease (his mother, with Alzheimer's), and he's a neurologist (and so he knows exactly how she'll decline, down to every last detail). All of those things give him greater emotional stakes in her Huntington's diagnosis beyond what's typical. But specifically in the situation of them facing this as a couple, you have this level of involvement where Foreman– someone who needs a high amount of control to function on a fairly basic level– is in an incredibly intimate relationship with Thirteen, whose entire life is inevitably and actively slipping out of her control. And in that scenario... I think that when the decline does start happening, it would absolutely terrify Foreman. To be the one that's by her side as a partner– seeing all of it firsthand, the pain and grief and sickness? And as her significant other, being the one that would potentially become a medical proxy when she's too sick to advocate for herself, faced with the possibility of making life or death decisions (like whether or not to euthanize the woman he loves)? I think that would have the potential to utterly destroy him.

As a friend, though? ("Ex-partners who have gotten back to a shaky friendship after the breakup, and still care about each other deeply", but "friends" for short.) The entire situation completely changes. I firmly believe that post-canon, if Foreman knows House offered to kill Thirteen before he "died", he would offer to kill her in House's stead in a heartbeat (just like I think Chase does). THAT sort of involvement with Thirteen's decline and care is far less terrifying, because now this is not the decline of someone that he's based his entire future on. This is not someone he's given half of his heart to; this is not someone he's built an entire life with and entwined himself so thoroughly with.

With the way things work out in canon, they're still friends, and they still care about each other; but at the end of the day, they're two separate people with two separate lives, two separate futures. And so Foreman doesn't lose a single ounce of his control as Thirteen's is slowly taken from her, bit by bit. Witnessing that is still a pain that is unimaginable. But for him, it's survivable. And that's the key difference (and why I ship Foreteen during season five and season six, but not post canon).

[munson-blurbs]

Addressing racism, bigotry, and rape apology under the cut:

I’ve always been a blog that addresses difficult and uncomfortable topics. It would be incredibly hypocritical of me to ignore this, and so I won’t.

I do not and will not support the careers of bigots, rape apologists, and those who willingly surround themselves with them.

As fans, we do not (and should not) get a say in who celebrities date. Sometimes we like a pairing, and sometimes we don’t. Maybe we vent about it to a friend, but the truth is that we don’t know these people and they don’t know us.

But I do know myself, and I am a person who has always stood against any kind of bigotry. I refuse to allow the haze of a public persona to cloud my judgment.

It’s a symptom of a much bigger problem. We as humans make excuses for people we like, people we admire, as a way to protect ourselves. The reality is that someone many of us liked and admired now proudly aligns himself with a Neo-Nazi supporter and rape apologist.

Joseph Quinn has spoken loud and clear that he is more than okay dating someone who has recently supported a Neo-Nazi (then excused it by saying she’s “not political,” as if one can be neutral about Nazism) and has taunted SA victims. You are the company you keep, and him being with her (in any capacity, even if it was platonic) shows that he tolerates that kind of behavior.

My writing has been a love letter to the fandom. It is not a love letter to Joseph Quinn. My goal is for y’all to feel safe and loved here, not for people to be comfortable excusing vile beliefs.

I will continue to write about Eddie. He is a comfort character to so many of us and his legacy extends well beyond the man who played him.

Going forward, I will not be supporting any future projects of Joseph’s. I will never support those who excuse bigotry. There is only so much you can separate art and the artist when the behavior is happening in real time.

I will not be speculating about the relationship on this blog. This is me stating that I never have and never will condone bigotry, and I’m not going to start now simply because of someone I admired.

Please take care of yourselves. I’ll be here, writing about the metalhead outcast that we love.

Yours till the coffee contemplates,

Bug 💚

[subskz]

i am deeply disappointed in skz

i have so many thoughts that i’ve been trying to put into words but to be quite honest they’re all meaningless anyway when there are much more important things to focus on right now. what i will say is this—one of the biggest things that made me fall in love with skz beyond their artistry and their direct involvement in everything they create, was their integrity. their ability to acknowledge their faults, to apologize to the ones they hurt, and always strive to be better people than they were yesterday, even within the resitrictions of the kpop industry. i have rarely found myself questioning whether or not their hearts are in the right place. but for them to be associated with zionist after zionist now of all times, when the genocide of palestinians is worse than it’s ever been for 7 months straight and more well-documented than it’s ever been in history, is something i can’t look past

i never have and never will shape my beliefs around celebrities, and i will never rely on an idol to serve as my moral compass, but i don’t think it’s so crazy to have expected better from skz. i’m well aware that a lot of this is out of their control, but if jype continues to make decisions like this, at what point does working with zionists in the midst of one of the most horrific tragedies our world has ever seen become the norm for skz? at what point do i stop looking away from it and wait for it to pass, only for it to happen again and again in the future? even if this goes against skz’s beliefs, which i hope with all my heart it does, i can’t in my right mind continue to support them when their projects uplift, praise, or have any connection to zionists. i can’t in my right mind continue to support them when they’re smiling in a photo next to a man who said he would make the most out of serving in the iof artillery. there are no words to describe the feeling of seeing them happily posing for pictures with zionists as gaza is being bombed in real time and over one million palestinians are being forced to evacuate rafah on foot as israel launches attacks on a supposed “safe place”

after 5 years of loving and supporting skz, i have to draw the line. so i will be stepping away from them for a while, which includes putting all writing for them on hold. if something about this bleak situation changes, if they say something like they have in the past, i may consider supporting them again. i want to believe in skz more than anything, but all the details surrounding this godforsaken song have just gotten worse and worse, and if this passes without them ever acknowledging it, i honestly don’t know if i can see them the same way again

either way, this isn’t about me or skz or kpop. more importantly than my feelings of disappointment, i’m going to continue pouring all of my energy into supporting the people who truly need and deserve it; palestinians. i urge you all to never stop standing up for palestine. to give up on them would be to give up on our very humanity. i will do everything i can until the very end, i hope you guys will too

[beautifulqueerexistence]

Trans spirituality - A Nonbinary Rant

I know there’s a ton of pressure on trans people to transition to a point of passing… but does anyone else feel like they’d still be trans no matter what life they were put in? Like transness is inherently connected to their spirit? And the experience by itself, even with all the rejection and waiting and pain and frustration that comes with it, was always written to be a part of you?

I was never someone who “always knew.” I grew up in an environment that didn’t allow for that, with princess toys and dress up stuff shoved in my hands before I could form a full sentence. And I was, objectively, happy. I carried those experiences until I was 18. My makeup was always done, my clothing was always feminine, I got GOOD at being a girl.

And then, one day, I realized I didn’t HAVE to be. I learned about HRT, I learned about top surgery and binding and packing… and it felt like this other piece of me just… woke up. And never went back to sleep. I fought it for YEARS, pushing off the nagging feeling that HRT and Top surgery were for me. But that piece of me just would not go back to dormancy. They refused. And I couldn’t keep fighting them, I was suffocating myself by pretending they weren’t there.

I was never painfully miserable being a woman, but I knew something wasn’t right. I’m two years on T, almost a month post op after Top Surgery, and being a man feels the same way. Neither are bad, neither are miserable, and I could safely live in both experiences with mild discomfort.

But something in me was always meant to be trans.

Those bandages came off, and I saw my scar shape for the first time, and the flat chest felt like mine… but the SCARS also felt like mine. It’s as if they were always meant to be there. The piece of me that woke up finally took a breath. With every weekly T shot, they take a breath. With every day I wear eyeliner, they take a breath. With every day I grow out my facial hair, they take a breath. That piece of me thrives in the in between. I thrive in the in between.

I think we get so caught up in the experience of dysphoria that we almost forget to discuss the relief and poetry that comes from being trans. In the face of being disowned and ridiculed and threatened, I’m surrounded by the most sincere, supportive, REAL people I could ask for. In the anxiety of battling insurance and laws, I get to exist as my own act of defiance against those who can’t, or won’t even try to understand me. I got the amazing chance of living in the in between and living a life that can only be understood if you live it. And while I’m not trying to dismiss the very real pain and very real struggle that comes from being genderqueer, especially in conservative environments and in the light of recent laws… I try to take time to be thankful that I have spirit worth working for. A spirit worth struggling for. And that the experiences adjacent to that have made me a more empathetic individual to those in other in betweens. That I really, truly appreciate my body and what it’s done for me, because I had to fight to make it mine.

That piece of me just woke up one day, and I don’t think I’d want them asleep again even if I could choose.

[tuckersdeslauriers]

What do you make of Tim's behavior in the last few episodes? I feel like he's a totally different person and it's making me sad to see him disrespecting Lucy so much.

just up front: it feels v clear to me that we do not share an opinion on this storyline from the tone of this ask, and so i am going to discuss this but would just like to preface that this is only my opinion and i respect that you/anyone else engaging with this post may have a different one. i am allowed to feel the way i feel, as are you. i am not trying to change or discredit anyone's opinions just because they're different than mine.

that being said - i will be honest with you, i don't really see where he's disrespected lucy. before you (and whoever else is reading this) jump me, let me explain myself.

tim went through something very difficult and traumatic with the resurgence of his wartime trauma and he made the decision not to involve lucy as he navigated said trauma. while it may not have been the best choice for their relationship, tim made the choice he felt was right in the moment. though we may not agree with it as viewers and lucy may not agree with it as tim's partner, he had the right to do that, and he explained to the best of his ability in the moment that he was keeping her out of the situation to ensure she didn't get hurt/her career wasn't impacted.

to me, that didn't feel disrespectful - it felt like tim relying on his tried and true methods of keeping the people he loves safe from him/the potential danger surrounding him. he was working with the tools he had available, even if they may not be the "right" tools for the job.

like, was it fucked that he ignored her for 36 hours? absolutely! that was disrespectful in some ways - but i think if you zoom out a little, it's not right, but it's understandable.

in the end of 5x07, lucy stops tim in the hallway at the station and asks him to talk to her - and i have seen a bunch of people who are really angry about the way tim handled that convo, so i wonder if that's what you mean by disrespect. generally, a few thoughts about that scene:

lucy approached tim hot - which, let me be clear: she had every right to. she was in her feels all day, she had something she wanted to say to him, and she was already a bit revved up coming to him. but she came into that conversation already looking for something specific, where tim was just...guard down, a little goofily happy to see her, probably a little nervous to talk to her at all.

tim wasn't given the opportunity to say much of anything. lucy asked if they could have "an adult conversation" (patronizing, but i don't blame her for it - he deserved that) and when tim explained he "couldn't give her what she wanted", lucy snapped. i understand the snap - i would've done the same - but tim had no space to continue talking there. that wasn't a conversation. lucy got her opportunity to unload on him a bit, which i think she needed. think about the breakup - lucy didn't get the chance to argue a side there, and tim didn't get the chance to argue a side here. they're equal on that kind of convo now, which i find fascinating.

so, is tim being honest with her and saying he can't give her what she needs right now disrespectful? i don't really think so. i think lucy is looking for something that tim can't give her right now - himself. tim has to sort through all his shit before he can be the best version of himself for lucy - in his tim brain, he doesn't think he can support her fully without working on himself first...and honestly? i think that's noble. lucy is far too close to the picture to see that tim has some really big issues he needs to work on outside of the scope of their relationship. i don't blame her for that, but it's just...true.

she can't be the person to help tim find himself at this point in his life. that's not fair to her or their relationship - so i think he's made the right choice here, as much as it hurts both of them.

i would also be remiss if i didn't mention that i think there's a huge part of this situation that lucy still needs to realize is on her. she has problems of her own, too! girl knows she's not perfect - but she has yet to address her own problems, and i think that's such an issue. tim is taking initiative to resolve his problems, even if it's not in a way that she agrees with. lucy isn't. just like their relationship already had issues, lucy has her own set. this wasn't the defining problem - this was just the straw that broke the camel's back in a lot of ways.

i hope this answers your question tbh bc i feel like i just rambled a bunch - but i'm always up to chat about this kind of stuff, so feel free to come back to me with more if i haven't annoyed you too much 😂

[perplexingluciddreams]

post of some disability aids/equipment that i hope for in future. (or think could help me). with pictures.

some of this is specific for disability, some is more general.

inspired by @aleswell post!

my body is very weak and floppy (low muscle tone). also have joint hypermobility. i need a lot of support to hold my body in good posture.

i need to be very reclined/tilted majority of the time. i spend a lot of time in bed, semi-propped-up with pillows. i hate my current bed a lot. it doesn't support my body well at all. it is also way too high - hard to get in and out of bed.

even if i get good supportive seating, i will still probably need to spend majority of my time in bed.

beds:

first picture is a montessori floor bed shaped like a house. i could put blankets or sheets over the top and make a safe den! i could make it really comfy for sleep. and low to ground is good. also wish for more "normal" bed like this one.

second picture is a safespace. basically same reason for why i like it. but also it is safer and maybe more comfy than the wood. it just looks nice to be in there.

third picture is a profiling bed. this is the best option for controlling my position and good support to sit in bed and keep everything aligned. but it is medical looking and i don't like it. it doesn't look as comfy or safe.

i wish there was a way to "merge" these into something perfect for me...

special chair:

picture is the Hydroflex chair from Careflex company. it comes with different back options and support options. so not always look exactly like this. it tilts and reclines with a remote. i think this is the chair i will try soon!

i hope 🤞🏻 if i get this, i will be able to go downstairs and be somewhere else than bed all day. (but that comes with its own challenges of being around people and more sensory input).

wheelchair/buggy:

first picture is a Permobil powerchair (don't know which one).

second picture is an adult buggy. brand is Axiom i think.

a powerchair would be great for tilt/recline options. BUT i don't know if i could manage to drive it myself all the time. it takes so much focus and effort and energy. and so hard, especially outside. i have low awareness of surroundings, so i feel scared and unsafe in powerchair outside.

so maybe a buggy or manual wheelchair with high level of seating support would be better. but i might get frustrated about can't control where i go. 🤷🏻‍♂️

for both of these, i would need a lot more extra supports and straps.

things i already have:

this exact bath lift, and this exact non-custom powerchair (bad👎🏻). i also have a stairlift (not this one).

the bath lift is good 👍🏻. but i can barely sit in this wheelchair. i hate it. it has no support and i can't tolerate this upright position for long at all. and struggle to manage drive it.

but it is the only reason i can go to appointments. so i am still grateful to have it. just hate the pain and fatigue and the difficult-ness.

sorry it got so long! i hope it is read-able.

[cnnmairoll]

Their Vows for You

Character(s) : Luka, Gepard, Sampo, Luocha, Blade Genre : Fluff a/n : First time writing for blade so please give me feedbacks because it will be very much appreciated 🙏Almost to 300 followers!! ahh I'm v v happy and grateful!!

Luka’s eyes are sparkling with a mixture of excitement and vulnerability. He took a deep breath, his strong hands lightly trembling as he held yours. The crowd that had gathered fell into a hushed reverence, sensing the profound sincerity that was about to unfold.

"From the moment I first saw you, it was like a fire ignited in my chest. You know, the same fire that pushes me in the ring, the one that makes me strive to be better every day? That fire burns just as bright when I'm with you."

He pauses, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he collects his thoughts, his gaze unwavering. "Life's thrown its punches at me, and I've learned to roll with them, to stand tall no matter what. But with you, it's different. You're not a punch to be taken, but a hand to be held. You're the embodiment of dreams realized, of hopes that never fade."

A fond chuckle escapes him, and he shakes his head in an almost amused disbelief. "I never thought I'd find someone who could match my stubbornness, my drive to never give up. But here you are, by my side, showing me that the world isn't just a place to fight in, but a place to live and love fiercely."

Luka's grip on your hands tightens, his emotions pouring through every word he speaks. "So, with these hands that have seen their fair share of battles, I vow to protect you, to stand by you no matter what challenges come our way. I promise to be your unwavering support, your partner in every adventure, and your rock when the world gets tough."

His voice softens, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears that reflect the sincerity of his words. "I vow to cherish you, to hold onto the moments that make our hearts race and the quieter ones that make life so beautifully ordinary. And most of all, I promise to love you with the same fire that burns within me, a love that's as unyielding as my fists in the ring."

As the soft breeze rustled the leaves and the petals of the surrounding flowers, Gepard stood across from you, his usually composed demeanor showing a hint of nervousness. His piercing eyes met yours, and you could see the depth of his emotions shimmering within them. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak, his voice steady despite the obvious emotions coursing through him.

"With each passing day, my heart has grown stronger, entwining itself with yours like the ivy that clings to the castle walls. In battles, I've faced enemies with unwavering courage, but it is this moment that truly tests the mettle of my spirit."

A soft, understanding smile spread across your lips, encouraging him to continue.

"Gazing into your eyes, I see a future filled with strength and love. You, who have stolen my heart with a mere smile, have shown me a world beyond duty and defenses. You've become the shield to my vulnerabilities, and the sword that cuts through my doubts."

"You've seen the dork within me, the one who stumbles over words and struggles with everyday tasks. And yet, you've embraced that part of me, making me feel cherished for who I truly am."

Gepard's voice grew softer, his gaze unwavering.

"In your presence, I find a peace that eludes me on the battlefield, a sanctuary where I can lower my guard and simply be myself. And so, standing here today, surrounded by our loved ones, I vow to protect you with all that I am, to cherish every moment, whether they be moments of triumph or moments of vulnerability."

A tender smile played on his lips, and he took a step closer, closing the distance between you two.

"I promise to be your shield, your defender, your partner in all things. Just as I've guarded the city and its people, I will guard your heart, keeping it safe from harm. With you by my side, I am more than just a captain; I am a man who has found his true north, his guiding star."

As he finished speaking, he reached out, taking your hand in his gloved one, the touch both gentle and strong.

"So, before all those gathered here, and under the witness of the setting sun, I declare my unwavering love and devotion to you. From this day forward, I am yours, as you are mine."

Amidst a picturesque setting, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves as you stand opposite Sampo Koski. His eyes twinkle with an air of mischief, his signature grin playing on his lips. The sun casts a warm, golden hue upon the scene, illuminating his charismatic presence.

With a wink, Sampo clears his throat, his voice carrying his magnetic charm as he begins, "Well, well, well, my dearest partner-in-crime and all-around extraordinary being, I find myself in a rather unprecedented situation today. You see, my life has been a series of deals, negotiations, and calculated risks, but standing here with you... it's like striking the grandest bargain of them all."

He chuckles softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "From the moment our paths crossed, I knew there was something extraordinary about you. You, my dear, are like a rare artifact that only the most fortunate stumble upon. You possess a certain allure, an enigmatic quality that even I, with all my secrets, couldn't quite decipher."

Sampo's expression turns tender as he continues, "I've danced through the intricacies of trade and the art of persuasion, yet in front of you, my silver tongue falters, my defenses crumble. You've managed to navigate through the labyrinth of my guarded heart, leaving behind a trail of laughter, companionship, and a bond that defies all odds."

He takes a step closer, his voice lowering in earnest. "Today, as I stand before you, I make no empty promises or grandiose declarations. Instead, I offer you my partnership in the grand adventure that is life. I vow to be your confidant, your partner in schemes, and your ever-enthusiastic co-conspirator."

A mischievous glint returns to his eyes as he grins playfully. "I promise to keep the secrets you share, as long as they don't interfere with the acquisition of a good deal, of course. And, in return, I humbly ask for the honor of being the one you turn to in times of opportunity and challenge."

Sampo's tone grows earnest once more, his hand reaching out to gently cup yours. "In a world where trust is a commodity as rare as the finest gemstones, I vow to trust you with my vulnerabilities, my aspirations, and my heart. I may be a merchant of words and wares, but with you, I lay bare my true self, unguarded and unfiltered."

He gazes deeply into your eyes, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that resonates with your heart. "So, my dear partner and confidant, in the grand tapestry of life, I choose you to be my most prized possession. With you, I've found a treasure beyond measure—one that no fortune could ever match. And as we journey through the markets of laughter and tears, know that you have my loyalty, my camaraderie, and my heart."

Sampo pauses, letting his words linger in the air, before flashing you a dazzling grin. "And if ever you find yourself in need of a clever retort, a witty comeback, or a bit of lighthearted banter, well, my dear, you can count on me to be your ever-ready supplier."

As the moment arrives for him to express his vows, Luocha's voice, smooth as silk and filled with genuine emotion, caresses the air. His accent, a gentle reminder of distant realms beyond the stellar seas, adds a unique cadence to his words, making them all the more enchanting.

"With each breath I take, under the embrace of both sun and moon, I stand before you, a heart laid bare. From realms unknown, I traversed galaxies to find a love as profound as the constellations themselves. From the moment our paths converged, my world transformed, and I knew that destiny had woven our fates together.” He reaches out and takes your hand, his touch sending a comforting shiver through you.

“In your presence, I've discovered a refuge, a sanctuary where your laughter is the sweetest melody and your smile, the brightest star. Your kindness, like a soothing balm, has healed wounds both seen and hidden. With you, I find solace and adventure in equal measure, a partnership beyond the reaches of my wildest dreams.”

His gaze never wavers, his sincerity a beacon guiding you through the cosmos of emotions.

“As I hold your hand now, I promise to cherish every moment, to stand by your side through cosmic tempests and tranquil interludes alike. My hands, skilled in the arts of healing, shall tend to your wounds, whether they be of flesh or spirit. My heart, forever yours, shall beat in synchrony with yours, a constant reminder that you are never alone.”

His fingers gently brush against yours, a silent reassurance of his commitment.

“I vow to explore the galaxies of your soul, to learn every constellation of your thoughts, fears, and desires. To navigate the celestial map of your heart with reverence and care. Just as the stars above shine eternally, my love for you will know no bounds, burning brightly through the eons of time.”

His words are a spell, intertwining your souls in a narrative beyond the grasp of time.

“With you, I've found a love that transcends the boundaries of space and time. And so, under this vast expanse of sky, before the cosmos that has witnessed the birth and death of stars, I pledge my heart to you, my beloved. Across the stellar seas and beyond, our love shall endure, a luminous testament to the bond we share."

As the stars sprinkle the heavens above, Blade's gaze, deep and intense, locks onto yours. His voice, a gentle rustle like leaves in the wind, carries the weight of his journey, his sacrifices, and his devotion. He speaks with a solemnity that resonates with your heart, his words a testament to his bond with you.

"With this sword that has seen eras pass, I vow to protect you, to be your shield against the storms that may assail us. Just as the cracks in this blade are part of its story, so too are my flaws woven into the tapestry of my being. In your presence, I find strength to endure, to fight, and to mend."

He reaches for the hilt of his ancient sword, his fingers curling around it with a familiarity born of time. The moonlight dances across the cracks, casting intricate patterns that mirror the complexities within his soul.

"In the echoes of battles past and the whispers of forgotten winds, I found solace in the rhythm of your presence. As the cracks upon my sword narrate tales of resilience, let my devotion to you be the mortar that binds the fragments of my existence. Just as the weight of the blade never falters, my commitment to your well-being shall remain unyielding."

Blade's grip on the sword tightens, his grip steady despite the emotions that flicker in his eyes like starlight. His voice gains a subtle strength, a promise that resonates through the night.

"As time flows and ages fade, know that my essence, my purpose, will remain steadfast. My blade may bear cracks, but they are a testament to the battles fought and the strength gained. With you, I find my purpose renewed—a blade not just of steel, but of devotion and unwavering love."

His gaze never falters, and his voice holds the weight of a promise made across dimensions. As his vow echoes in the night, the bond between you and Blade solidifies, woven with the threads of shared experiences and unspoken understanding.

[mirrorballhughes]

I MISS YOU IM SORRY

luke hughes x adelaide hunter

starting us off with a good old instagram edit, some text messages and a lil in real life !! so enjoy :)

adelaidehunter

liked by stormallen, jackhughes, _quinnhughes and 115,130 others

adelaidehunter AHHH. words can not express how excited i am to say MY DEBUT ALBUM “good riddance” is out june 21st!!! ALSO “where do we go now?” is out TONIGHT AT MIDNIGHT!!

its difficult to imagine these songs living anywhere other than my most secret places, but rutger is my biggest supporter and reminded me that holding space for brutal honesty in songwriting is kind of the whole point.

i feel an unbelievable amount of gratitude for the opportunity to have made this album. writing this record allowed me to grow up in ways i needed to. it forced me to reflect and be accountable. it allowed me to walk away from versions of myself that i no longer recognize. it allowed me to let go.

also a big shoutout to my sister thats not blood, storm. shes one of the few people in this world capable of making others feel safe to their core when they are exploring the parts of themselves that are most raw. storm is rare and generous. im so glad you are my roommate, but fuck the canes btw!! ;)

thank you all for the support!!! im so nervous. im so relieved. i hope with my whole heart that theres something in here that makes you feel less alone. ill be thanking you all for the rest of my life for taking this record and making it yours!!! JUNE TWENTY FIRST!! AHHH see you at midnight!! <3

tagged: stormallen, rutgermcgroarty

COMMENTS

_quinnhughes Della!! I’m so proud of you! Cant waif to celebrate with you :)

adelaidehunter QUNNIIE!! thank you. see u soon

jackhughes Adds so proud of you.

adelaidehunter thx jacks. see u soon :)

user2 this album is gonna be so good.

user5 anyone think its gonna be about luke…

user6 u might be on to something..

user10 but his brothers commented??

user13 they are family friends, grew up together.

User30 Oh ik that tension in their summer lake house is gonna go CRAZY.

rutgermcgroarty STAR IS SHINNING !!

adelaidehunter thx!

stormallen MY GIRL!! I CANF WAIT TO LISTEN ( already have)

rutgermcgroarty yeah me too u arent special!

edwards.73 HEY I HEARD IT ASWELL!!

umichhockey i think we all heard it🙄

adelaidehunter I LOVE U STORMY!!

mackie.samo are we ignoring the fact that adel went out of her way to reply using the umich account?

luca.fantilli its lemonade she can do what she wants!

adamfantilli mackie dont be a hater now, ur just mad that u missed the listening party!!

umichhockey thx you fantilli twins!! :)

luca.fantilli we arent twins lemonade

adamfantilli last time i stick up for you.

adelaidehunter NOOO IM SORRY🙁💔

dylanduke25 good riddance: said to express relief at being free of a troublesome or unwanted person or thing.

user5 DYLAN???

adelaidehunter LMAOOO. duker thats crazy

seamuscasey26 DUDE THATS FOUL.

markestapa addieeeee LETS GO?? Im screaming at u

adelaidehunter IM NOT even WITH U??

markestapa okay.. u might be

user1303 WHAT.

lhughes_06 cant wait to listen. proud of you adelaide.

user3343 THE “ADELAIDE” HURT ME.

user559 shes definitely not replying to this!

caleb.hunter um im ur biggest supporter???

adelaidehunter thats true! i love u

user34 IM GGIGLING AHE TOTALLY SKIPPED OVER LUJES COMMENT.

user32 UR SO RIGHT OH MY GOD SHE DEFINITELY SAW IT

view more…

hughes hunter moment !!

quinn: caleb just got here. now where are u della??

jack: YEAAAH. where are u missy???

quinn: jack. we arent playing bad cop good cop.

jack: i know that??

quinn: god ur annoying

adelaide: im pulling in right now.

enough fighting please.

IN REAL LIFE!!

adelaide just parked her car, grabbing her bags from her car. she took in her surroundings, taking a deep breath in and out. the hughes hunter lake house was always her favorite place to be. something about this time seems different. the blonde let go of the negative energy before walking to the door. she opened the door, backing up feeling the door handle opening up from the inside.

“oh. hey adelaide. thought u were the pizza guy.” the youngest hughes brother was standing at the door, causing adelaide to go mute. “QUINN MOVE! IM TRYING TO GET TO THE DOOR. CALEB STOP HIM!” she heard the middle hughes brother say. “here do you want me to help you-“ the curly haired boy asked, “no its fine thanks.” the blonde spoke quietly walking into the house carrying her stuff in. “ADDS!! move LUKE!” jack said causing luke to move out of his way, the youngest brother was stood there admiring the girl.

luke checked up on adelaide a lot. always watching her stories, seeing her posts just never reached out. luke noticed how her hair still had little bits of brown in it from when she dyed her hair right after the two broke up. luke watched the two interact hugging each other and smiling. luke wished that was him. “shes my sister, why didnt i get the first hug?” caleb spoke as him and quinn finally moved over to where the group was. “she likes me more thats why cal.” jack said causing adelaide to roll her eyes, giving her brother a hug then hugged quinn. her and luke locked eyes, the three guys standing there noticed the love spark that were still there between the two.

the blonde girl broke the eye contact, “ill be back down. i gotta get unpacked.” she said shooting a small smile to the group of guys who nodded. there was a knock at the door, “great timing! the pizza here as well!” quinn smiled pushing luke to get the door as he was impatiently waiting for it. addie made her way upstairs smiling trying to make this lake house vacation will as best as she could.

caleb was at her door, seeing as though she finished packing. “you okay?” that caught adelaides attention, “im fine why wouldnt i be?” she said sitting down on her bed caleb following after her. “um i dont know, maybe its because of some certain boy downstairs? who you have been friends with since forever and then ended up to-“ “okay enough!” she said causing her older brother to laugh. “okay fine sorry! but if you ever wanna talk just let me know. im here for you, a.” the glasses wearing boy said, as the two hugged each other.

the hunter siblings went downstairs sitting at the bar with the hughes brothers already digging into the pizza. “so della how excited are you for your album and song release?” the oldest hughes brother asked, causing luke to feel smaller and tense. he was there when adelaide was writing the music, she told him about some of the songs. but once they brought up, luke knew she had to have some gut wrenching song written about him. sure he was nervous, but he would always be proud of her for any and all of her accomplishments.

“oh! im so excited, but nervous. it does feel good to have it released out to the world instead of being stuck inside with just me.” she said looking over at luke whos head was low, then brought her attention to grabbing some pizza. “so “where do we go now?”whats that gonna be about?” jack asked knowing most of her songs had meaning, jack always adored adds music he has to be her biggest supporter. “its basically me reflecting back on all the little white lies in a one-sided love that beamed as bright red flags, finally leading to ending things. and the question of where they should go, start afresh or not, looms over this delicate ballad, though remains unanswered.” she said causing luke to look up and then quickly brought his head down. “oh well i cant wait to hear it! any songs about our good man luke here?” jack asked causing luke to look up and glare at the older boy. adelaids face flushed, “you dont need to answer that a. jack is just picking.” caleb said sending the boy a wtf look.

[silenzahra]

First of all, thanks a lot to @megamagimugi @itsavee4117 @bberetd @keakruiser @pepperycar

@coffeecat1983 @peaches2217 @stripetkattelalala54 @multicolour-ink @vulpixfairy1985

@purely-interests-here-not-much for your comments on my latest post. I truly appreciate your support as I really needed it. Hope it's okay that I vent under the cut so you're all free to continue reading or skip this post, but I hope you all understand I'm not in the mood whatsoever to be around right now. I know you've tagged me in some stuff and I appreciate it, but I just can't enjoy it right now. It has all to do with my emotional state and nothing with the content itself. Hope that is clear.

Also, thank you to those of you who reblogged my musicians post after I fixed it. I really appreciate it. I'll make sure to give you all proper answers... I just don't know when yet.

Before I go on, let me advice you: if you're in a good mood today, maybe you shouldn't read this if you don't want it to be ruined. It's totally up to you. Just know that I'd never judge anyone for putting their mental health first.

Yesterday was the most awful day of my life. I came to the realization that the people I thought cared for me the most, the people who were supossed to always be there through thick and thin... don't actually care about me. They always put others first, no matter what my necessities and emotions are: they're always there for other people but they're never there for me. Even when it's obvious that I need them, they just don't see it and continue to help everybody else but me.

And I feel lonely. I've never had trouble with being alone as my hobbies usually require that I'm on my own to properly enjoy them, but that's one thing... and loneliness is something very different. I'm never alone, but I'm lonely. And their attitude also makes me feel so unimportant... Makes me wonder why on earth I'm here. Why my family had me if they weren't gonna care about me. Especially my emotions... No one in my family has ever made me feel like they're a safe space for me to open up. Never. So they don't even know what I'm feeling because, whenever I try to tell them something, they change the subject or simply don't pay attention. My voice doesn't matter. I literally have no one to turn to IRL. Heck, they don't even make me feel loved anymore. They make me feel like a burden they have to deal with, and I can't even move to live on my own for financial reasons.

In all honesty, I never thought I'd find myself in such a situation. I don't even know how to act anymore. I have to continue living with my family, seeing them every day, and I just don't know how to look them in the face. The feelings swirling in my chest... they hurt, and I feel that I need to let them out, but I literally have no one IRL. My friends, they all live in different cities, and have their own lives and problems, so they can't always be there for me, and I'm okay with that because I'm also busy. I'd like to get back to therapy, but it's expensive as hell where I live, and I have just started working for the first time after a few months, so I don't have the means for that.

In all honesty, this morning I took the day off from work and went for a walk with my dog. This may sound weird, especially to people who don't have any animals, but I'm not exaggerating when I say my dog Baloo was the only one (in my immediate surroundings I mean) who noticed yesterday that I wasn't feeling good. He has a great emotional intelligence and was there for me when I needed him, and I'm glad I could walk with him this morning because it really did wonders to us both.

Still, shortly after I got home... everything went bad again. I'd dare to say even worse than yesterday. And I'm so tired and drained.

I don't even know why I'm in this world anymore. It's just suffering and suffering, one bad thing after another, and I sincerely can take it no longer. I've had enough. I don't even find joy in the SMB franchise anymore... Yes, it's that bad. I've hit rock bottom and all that's left for me is drowning.

Thank you if you've read everything and sorry if I bored you or made you feel bad. I just hope you understand that I don't feel like being around whatsoever. I love you and your content, but I can't enjoy it right now, so I'd rather not see it until I'm fine... if I ever get to be fine again. This is the worst bad streak I've experienced in a very long time and I sincerely cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel. Heck, I can't even feel excited about seeing my favorite band live again next week... Can't even look forward to that right now.

Of course, you're all free to continue to tag me in stuff if you'd like, but I hope you know I'm not gonna see it now. As I said, I can't enjoy anything in general. I've lost the spark of joy and I don't know how to get it back.

Sorry to sound so depressed, but it's just how I'm feeling right now.

Of course, all of this applies to the people around me in real life. I'm grateful I met each and every one of you, and I'm lucky and blessed that you offered me your support and you're there to listen. I love you all very much.

[gor3sigil]

hi i dont really know how to introduce myself, so i hope you dont mind if i skip that part.

i just wanted to ask about that post you made a few days ago. in one of the last paragraphs you mention how hatching is painful. but is it supposed to feel like my entire world is cracking apart around me?

what you mentioned in the beginning of the post, about how the people around you felt about masculinity, that very aptly describes a lot of my fears of reactions to me identifying as masculine, which is what started me crying and ultimately spurred me to message you.

im just so scared

i have lots of trans people in my life, i just dont know how to talk about this with most of them (see: Very Scary :C) ive spent my whole life using femininity to take down peoples walls and help them feel comfortable around me. what the hell am i supposed to do as man? can i even still behave that way? will people even still trust me? will they like me? will they feel safe around me? its unbearable. every time i think about it my brain tries to run away, there's just so much fear.

is this normal at all? to be scared like this? i mean, considering i too struggle with the radical feminist narrative you mentioned? i dont believe the narrative, but i fear it. and then i get insecure and i cant stop thinking the insecurity an indication that manhood is the wrong direction for me.

am i making any sense?

Hi, it must've taken lots of strength to write all this so congrats to you. My answer will be based on my own experiences so take it with a grains of salt. Yeah, your world will definitely shatter too. Because even if you're just socially transitionning, if you do so while being surrounded by trans friends, most of them will change the way they percieve you so your interactions may change. I know that's scary, but you have to trust the process. If they're good friends, they won't like you less or anything. That's the hardest part I think. As you read in my post, coming ot made me lose tons of friends, most of them trans, because they treated me badly after I came out.

And yes, you are making sense. I went through the exact same fears as you. The fear of not being deemed as safe anymore. Unfortunately, I don't really have any solutions to offer you, appart from building your own community, online and/or IRL. Like I said, most of my trans friends were kinda crappy about me being masc and I struggled for years to feel comfortable in my masculinity as a result. Because I did the same as you, me being a "woman" was my way of saying that I understood the struggles of others and was safe. Let me stress one thing. You are still okay, you're not a bad person. Even if you discover new things about yourself, even if you're transmasc, even if you're transitionning (if you do), you are still very much the same person as before, with your understanding of a number of issues, with your own pas experiences.

It's a point I really can't stress enough. As I said in my post, you are still worthy of love, support, tenderness, being understood, being heard, being listened to, being comforted. One thing I noticed is that my previous friend tended to dismiss my feelings and/or be "rough" with me thinking that it was "affirming" because I was a man now. Let me tell you that that's BS and don't let anyone treat you this way.

Maybe try to test the water, idk if you came out already or not but maybe in your presentation or just by talking about transmasc specific issues with them, see how they react. That being said, I really do hope that your friends will be understanding. Or that by explaining to them how their behavior is wrong they will understand and act differently, because sometimes people so shit cause they don't know any better. I hope this helps, and I really wish you all the best. If you ever need to talk feel free to reach out again. Take care.

[unseededtoast]

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Eight

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

Though he is a man of few words, his actions speak for his character.

Heading west, I keep walking through the night, though it's less than ideal. I take my time, wanting to stay quiet and undetected by both infected and people. The silence of the night allows my mind to mull over what I found today and how everything is supposed to fit together.

My mind can't seem to figure anything out that makes sense. The map is the only thing that makes the most sense to me. The notes, the game tallies, they all seem so odd but there has to be some connection. There has to be some reason these people were tasked with killing a specific age range of children in QZ's across the country. There has to be some reason they're connected to the Fireflies. I'm seeing bits and pieces of the picture, but not the full painting.

But what if this is all a bit bigger than I can take on? Am I walking myself right towards a death sentence? Maybe. Could I be making the wrong decision to go to Nebraska? Possibly.

The other alternatives are either to retreat back to the QZ and be stuck wondering for the rest of my life, or try to track down which QZ the others went to, and I could miss them and have wasted time. But if I guess which QZ they're going to next, I could possibly save more lives. I've never been good at gambling, and yet I find myself playing at the highest stakes.

Each step seems to take ten times the effort as normal as I consider my options, trying to see which is the most logical, which would give me the best odds of finding these people. As soon as I think I've made a decision, I second guess myself. It feels like there's no right decision to be made.

I stop walking in the middle of a street and stare straight up at the dark sky, the stars shining brightly down. If only they could give me the answer. The sound of a clicker in a nearby skyscraper gets me moving again, towards the interstate. It seems I've made up my mind, and only time will tell if this was the right decision.

Readjusting my backpack and yawning, I take in my surroundings so that I'm not ambushed by infected. Sometimes it seems like they come out of nowhere. My thoughts seem to run in circles until it starts to drive me mad. I have to think of something else or I'm going to go insane. And after searching for something, the green sign above the road distracts my mind and reminds me of the stranger I met only yesterday.

I wonder how Joel is doing, how his journey is going so far. He seemed seasoned to life outside a QZ, his time away from Boston likely forced him to adapt. Whatever job it was that he took to get out of Boston must have caused him to not want to return. But no matter the reason, I hope that he has a safe journey, I'm sure whoever is waiting for him is worried sick.

My path leads me to a roadblock where an old FEDRA checkpoint used to be, just before the entrance ramp of the highway. Cars are parked bumper to bumper and there's sandbags stacked on top of each other supporting a thick line of barbed wire. Knowing I can't climb overtop of it, I take a right and decide to go around. Sure, this is going to delay my trip slightly, but it's better than trying to go overtop of barbed wire. I don't really feel like nursing open wounds on my way to Nebraska.

As I go to turn left to get back on track I immediately stop moving. Standing in the street are three runners, all hunched over with quiet sobs. A clicker cries out somewhere close, its screeches ricochet off the buildings and echoes into the open air. My heart hammers in my chest and I take careful steps backwards so that I can keep my eyes on them. Thankfully, they don't see me and I'm able to get back to the front of the barricade.

I take a left instead, and hope for a better outcome. Bracing myself, I turn the corner and am in disbelief with what I see. There are four runners standing in the road. My eyes trail down the street and I see that they're all trapped here. The FEDRA barricade extends down the streets so that the infected in the Boston area can't use this ramp to get onto the highway. On one of the barricade sections I see the telltale sign of a door, there's a giant FEDRA sign hanging above it. That door would be a direct path to the road if it weren't for the infected. It seems that there's no unobstructed way for me to get to the highway. I'm up against seven runners and a clicker, at least. Even during the day I don't know if I could take this on.

Ducking back behind the building I try to formulate some sort of plan. How can I get through this barricade without the infected noticing me? I know the door is to the left, but there's no way I can get past all of those infected and open it. Even if I do sneak to the door, I know it's going to make sound when I open it, and that's like ringing the dinner bell for them.

Sound would be like ringing a dinner bell. An idea comes to my mind and I spot an abundance of bricks laying beside one of the cars. If I can get those bricks to all fall at the same time across the street, it should draw them away long enough for me to get to the door. It's still risky, but I think it's my best shot. But how do I get them to fall at the same time?

I don't see a way that I can pull that plan off without considerable time, and I don't have time to be stopped up here, not with all the infected. I stare at the pile of bricks and another idea crosses my mind. What if I use them to get over the barricade? I could lay the bricks in a way that I could get over the barbed wire. It might not be the most sophisticated plan, but it's going to have to work.

Quietly, I walk over to the pile and begin picking them up slowly. The barricade is at least six feet high, so I'm going to have to bring bricks up to the top of the sandbags and lay them there before I can construct something over the wire. I slide my backpack off my shoulders so that it's easier to get the bricks to the top of the barricade. Clutching three bricks under one arm, I climb the sandbags and drop them on top. Thankfully, the sand masks the sound of the bricks landing.

I take another trip up with three more bricks without incident, and feel more confident in my plan. On my last trip up with bricks, I drop them on the sandbags, but one of them hits the corner and falls down to the road with a loud crash. The infected hear it and I can tell they're rushing to investigate. I drop down to the road to pick up my backpack and see them coming towards me on both sides. Shit.

With the speed of lighting, I put my backpack on and start climbing the sandbags. I hear them getting closer as I reach the top, their carnal breaths loud in the night. I'm about two inches away from pulling myself to the top when I feel one of them grab my foot and it yanks me down.

My fingers slip on the sandbags and I fall a few inches before I'm able to grab ahold of something. Wildly, I kick my feet in an attempt to get them off of me, but there are too many. In a last ditch effort, I grab my gun from my thigh holster and shoot the ones who drag me down. The shots ring out in the night and I know it's only going to attract more.

The few runners I've shot collapse to the ground, which gives the clicker more space to reach for me. Clickers are infinitely more terrifying than runners, and they're about ten times stronger too. Runners take one bullet to kill, clickers can take at least two or three. I aim my gun towards the clicker and pull the trigger, but it just clicks. It's empty. Quickly, I shove the gun back in the holster and use both hands to grab onto the sandbags.

Adrenaline pumps in my veins and I fight harder to pull myself away from the feral infected. My pant leg rips at the bottom from their clawing and I feel my fingers beginning to slip. Clenching my eyes shut, I grit my teeth and pull with all my might to get away.

Just as I'm about to accept my fate, a shot rings out and one of the infected crumples to the ground. Four more shots hit the clicker, and it falls as well, body twitching on top of the others. Without thinking I pull myself on top of the barricade and whip my head from side to side to see who shot them. I grab my curved knife from my belt and hold it in front of me.

My chest heaves with each breath I take as the adrenaline begins wearing off and the panic sets in. Whoever shot them could be coming for me next. What if it's the T group?

From the shadows I see a figure approaching, slinging a gun behind them as they quickly jog towards me. Once they get close enough, I recognize who it is immediately. It's Joel.

He runs to the barricade and holds out a hand. I put my knife away and offer him my help up the sandbags. We both start using the bricks to construct a makeshift bridge across the barbed wire, the screeches of a dozen approaching infected rushing our movements. Joel takes bricks from my shaking hands and practically stands me up on his own and pushes me across the bridge, my other pant leg ripping from the barbs.

My feet hit the ground with a hard thud, quickly followed by Joel. His hands push on the back of my backpack and one word is clear over the coming stampede.

"Run." We take off sprinting down the highway's entrance ramp. He's slightly faster than me but I keep up well. Joel points to an abandoned car that crashed into a guard rail and I nod, showing him I understand the plan.

We yank open the doors and climb in. If the infected make it over the barricade, they shouldn't see us here and eventually will disperse. The two of us are out of breath and we sit in silence, trying to regain our bearings.

After a few minutes of steadying my breath, I take my backpack off and sit it in my lap. I rest my head on it and lean forward, closing my eyes in an attempt to calm myself down.

"Thank you." I say, slightly breathless. Raising my head from my backpack, I look over to Joel, who's glancing in the mirrors to see what's behind us. His eyes flicker to mine and he gives me a stern nod, opting to stay quiet.

If it weren't for him I'd be some infected's dinner. That fact sinks in and I feel an immense amount of gratitude. He didn't have to save me. He could've left me for dead. Most people wouldn't stick their neck out for someone they barely know, but he did. Though he is a man of few words, his actions speak for his character.

My gaze turns to the mirrors as well, the two of us anxiously wait to see if the infected are going to make it over. The runners would have no issue scaling the wall given the proper motivation to do so, but they're less likely to if they can't immediately see something that grabs their attention.

After hours of us hunkering down silently in the car, Joel opens his door and gets out. He slings his bag and rifle on his back, looking behind him one more time. I get out and gear up as well. And just like the first time I met him, the silence is almost overwhelming. The morning sunlight begins rising, and I realize we spent almost the entire night in the car.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I debate whether or not I should say anything. Seeing as how he just saved my life, I decide it's the least I can do. I clear my throat and scratch the back of my neck, looking down at the ground to avoid awkward eye contact.

"I just want to thank you again for saving me back there. You really didn't have to put yourself at risk, but I appreciate it." I find the courage to look up, only to see him staring at me already with a fierce intensity.

"I thought you were headed towards that camp?" He asks, totally disregarding my appreciation.

"I was. I mean, I did. One guy was left but he was infected. I found clues though, about where they might be going." I tell him, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. He nods,

"So where're you headed?" He asks again, and it throws me off. This is the most talkative he's ever been.

"Omaha, Nebraska." I say, recalling the city where the large 'T' was located. Joel's eyebrows raise.

"That's quite a ways from here." He points out and I sigh, knowing I'm severely underprepared for the long road ahead.

"Yeah, I know. But I have to do this. I won't be able to live with myself if I don't." I confess to him. I'm well aware my choices defy logic, but, the alternative of letting the guilt eat me alive is worse.

Joel rests his hand on the top of the car and looks down the highway. He shifts his weight around like he's deep in thought for a few minutes. He's probably trying to think of a way to ditch me. Feeling like I'm intruding on his venture home, I speak up again.

"Listen, I appreciate what you did for me back there, all of it. But I know you're trying to get home so I'll get out of your hair, for real this time." I say and extend a hand out to him again, probably for the last time. Like before, he stares at my hand.

"I'm headed west and go right by Omaha." He says, squinting in the sunlight. I drop my hand once I realize he isn't going to take it, meaning we aren't splitting quite yet. My eyebrows draw tightly together in confusion as I try to understand what he's trying to get at. I think I understand, but I need to hear him clarify.

"Meaning what? We tag along 'til Omaha?" I hear the insecurity in my own voice and I hate it. Joel takes his hand back from the top of the car and nods.

"Safer that way, for the both of us." He confirms my thoughts and starts walking down the highway. I follow him, accepting his offer.

We walk side by side down the road, the only sounds being the birds in the sky and our gear rattling around. My mind is buzzing with questions I want to ask him, but I respect that he's a quiet, reserved man.

Every few minutes I check behind us, feeling paranoid that we're being followed. There's never anything there, but I'd rather check and see nothing than not check and be surprised. Joel is less paranoid I think, he walks with a silent confidence that tells me he's no stranger to the outside world. He understands it far better than I do.

The two of us walk for miles without saying a word until we come to an exit ramp. I recognize it as a suburb outside of Boston, but I've never been there before. Joel veers off the highway to the exit and I follow without question.

Off the ramp, there's a small town to the left and a bunch of housing complexes to the right. Seems like the perfect place for infected to be lurking about. But for some reason, I put my blind faith in the man leading me and trail him into the town.

He looks over his shoulder at me and points at a small brick building. I nod and approach it with him, preparing my knife for use. He stands on the opposite side of the entrance doors with his knife in hand, looking to me for confirmation that I'm ready. Silently, I nod and watch as he swings the door open. I wait for the sound of infected, but am pleasantly surprised with silence.

Joel seems to know where he's going though, he heads straight for the back room. I take my time to look around at the front room, seeing if there's anything of use. Most likely there isn't, but every once in a while I get lucky. The sound of whatever Joel is moving is enough to catch my attention, and I stand in the doorway. He's moving a large piece of plywood that's on the floor. There's a hole in the ground, and he drops down into it.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I go over to peek in the hole, seeing a small stash of supplies. Joel rummages around and picks up ammunition, a few cans, and another knife. He turns around and sees me staring above him, and he hands me items he can't carry himself; some cans of food and ammunition, before he pulls himself back out of the hole.

"You stashed that?" I ask quietly. He huffs as he puts away the extra supplies.

"A while ago." He answers and the two of us quickly shove the items in our bags. My bag feels like it gained fifteen extra pounds, but I can't complain. The extra weight means we have better survival odds.

Wordlessly, Joel moves out of the store and heads towards the suburban side of town, only a few miles walk away. The cookie-cutter houses remind me of the neighborhood I used to live in. A small, idyllic place at one point in time, turned to nothing but a ghost town now. Joel approaches the porch of one and opens the door. Luckily, it's empty and I follow him inside.

He blocks the main entrances to the home without a word, and I move to help him. I shove a strong chair underneath the handle of the back door and try to turn the handle to test its durability. After that, I make my rounds on the curtains and close them all. It seems like we're making this our base for the night. Once we've taken all the safety measures that we possibly can, Joel finds his way to the living room and unloads his stuff on the old, worn-down couch.

I place my backpack on the floor next to the couch and lean against the doorframe that connects the living room and kitchen, watching as Joel straightens his back out on the floor. His arms reach above his head to elongate his spine, and I hear the bones pop and crack. Wincing slightly, I turn my attention elsewhere in the house.

My eyes catch the fading family portrait on the wall and I go to look at it. The black frame houses an old photo. There's a man, woman, two kids, and a dog. They're all smiling, even the dog looks happy. My heart tugs at the sight of the happy family, and I can only assume what happened to them, just like so many other families. Sighing, I look at the other photos on the wall, seeing the slow growth of the children through still images. They look like they were probably high school age. My fingers find their way to the necklace that adorns my neck and I squeeze it tight.

A sound from behind me snaps me out of my thoughts and I turn back to see Joel staring at me. I offer him a polite smile and go to take a seat across from him on the floor, resting my back against the old couch. I fiddle with the torn edges of my pants, and can no longer restrain myself from asking questions. There are too many things I want answers to.

"How did you find me at that barricade?" My voice is soft. Joel clears his throat and shrugs.

"I took the long way 'round so I wouldn't interfere with whatever you were doin'. I was plannin' on taking this highway back home anyways. Guess it was just a coincidence." He plainly answers and I nod, accepting his answer.

"What a lucky coincidence." I smile, trying to break through the tension that always seems to hang over us. It's going to be a long trip west if he keeps things this short. He just shrugs in response,

"So what did you find 'bout those people?" He asks. I'm surprised he even cares, but I reach for my bag to show him what I've found. I spread the documents out in front of me and let him look. I explain to him what I know and what my theories are.

"Whoever they are, they need to be eradicated. Those kids, they were-" The tightness in my throat constricts my ability to talk and I take a shaky breath, remembering what it felt like to cradle the dying girl's head. Joel just nods, not needing further elaboration. He holds up the scraps of paper I found in the fire and reads the simple words.

"I'm not sure what those have to do with anything, and I'm not sure there's any sort of connection." I speak up, truthfully not knowing if they're of any value.

He puts the scraps down and picks up another piece of paper, the one with the Firefly insignia on it. As he reads the paper it's like the blood is drained from his face. My eyebrows knit together,

"What is it?" I ask and his startled eyes look deep into mine with fear that he tries to mask. An uneasy feeling settles in me. He looks back down to the paper and re-reads the note before he says anything.

"These bastards aren't going to live much longer." Is all he says before handing everything back over to me. The look on his face is unsettling, so I don't push anything further.

There has to be something he knows about this.

Part Nine

[call-me-mrs-winchester]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. pining. fluff. angst (kind of.) concerned sam. typical bossy, in charge dean.

A/N : finally getting some dean pov in this chapter! feedback is always appreiated. ~a big thank you goes out to everyone who asked to be tagged, your support means so much. check out the story masterlist if you missed previous chapters!

Maricela's POV

My eyes shifted towards Sam once the others went their separate ways to begin their tasks.

He nods in the direction of the adjacent area. "I'll show you your room."

Nodding, I move past Kevin to follow, but not without rubbing his shoulder. He gave me the tiniest smile before I walked down the stone steps into the Command Room. My legs carry me toward the war table so I can swipe my duffle bag and throw it over my shoulder. I jog into the corridor to my left to find where Sam had disappeared, only to see him walk further into the bunker. My feet quickly shuffle to catch up, and once I do, I set a pace to match his lengthy strides.

"It's really good to see you, Mari," says Sam. "But are you sure you're ready for the big leagues?"

A short huff escapes my lungs. "Sam, you act like I haven't worked with you guys before. I think I more than proved myself to you, Winchesters, that I can be of value to the team."

"Of course," he agrees but noticeably hesitates. "It's just that... You know we worry about you hunting by yourself. And now, you'll be hunting with us, which is great..."

"But...?" I stop abruptly, planting my feet firmly on the ground as I cross my arms.

Sam turns around, his face falling when he sees my blank yet expecting expression. He frowns to himself before glancing away from me. His hazel eyes scanned the hall, taking in every detail of our surroundings while taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Despite his attempts to avoid it, he struggled to convey his concerns. Finally, he exhales a deep breath before his eyes find mine.

"I'm just worried something will happen to you. The people closest to us always get hurt or end up dead." He admits. "And I don't want that to happen to you."

His concern brings me a smile. "Sammy, you're so sweet to worry about me. But as long as I'm with you boys, I'll be safe."

The youngest Winchester simpers, but it hardly reaches his eyes. I can tell my words don't bring him any sense of comfort. Yet, it's the truth; I wouldn't trust anyone else with my life. We begin to walk down the cold halls again, this time in silence. We stand in front of door number 16 before he pushes it open. Sam holds his hand out, gesturing for me to enter first. I walk in, glancing around the bare room. It wasn't so bad; it came with standard furniture like any other bedroom and more. It, by far, beats any motel room I've ever stayed in.

"Make yourself at home," I place my bag on the bed before turning to Sam, standing before the doorway. "My room is number 21, Dean's is 11, if you ever need anything."

"It's great, Sammy." I motion around the room, smiling happily. "Thank you guys, this means a lot."

He returns my smile, and this time, it feels genuine. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

"Come on, I'll give you a quick tour of the rest of the bunker," He says, but judging by the size of this place, 'quick' was an understatement.

"Yeah, Irv. Fallen Angels," Dean says into his phone as I stroll into the library. "Well, trust me, they're just monsters with good P. R. So, if you run into one, torch his ass with holy oil."

I settle beside Sam, placing my computer on the table. "What can I help with?"

He assigns me to the 'demon-y' part of the research while he continues with the angel portion. I press the power button, bringing the laptop to life. The familiar hum of the machine fills the room as I eagerly await for the desktop to load. Once everything was up and running, I began to scour through various news articles and sources relating to anything abnormal in the hopes of finding promising leads. A silence fell between our group as we focused on our tasks. Besides the gentle tapping of keyboards and the occasional rustle of papers, the eldest Winchester's smooth voice danced in my ears.

His words reassured me why I had chosen this life: To help others. Knowing that I get to save people while ridding the world of monsters is what fuels any hunter. However, there were many times when I wondered if I had made the right career choice. I used to imagine how different it would've been if those two gorgeous strangers hadn't walked into my life, all because of that damn Lamia. Maybe Luke and I would have ended up together. Or I would've been in college, planning for my future. Better yet, both. No matter the limitless scenarios, the ending was always the same: Life without the Winchesters. And that alone scared me more than all the monsters I have ever faced.

The vibration of my phone drew my attention away from the endless and exhausting disappointment of no leads. Despite my pursuit to find any demon activity, it had become apparent there was a complete absence of their presence. Reaching into my back pocket, I grab the rectangular device to check the caller ID. A frown creases my face, and my brows wrinkle as I stare at the name. Hesitantly, I slide my thumb over the screen to answer the unexpected call.

"Hello?" I greet, getting up to walk away from the group.

"Hey, Mari. How ya been?" He asks hurriedly.

"Oh, you know—still kicking," I lightly joke before my tone turns serious. "What's up?"

"You still do weird, right?" He questions in a hushed voice. "'Cause I got something that seems up your alley."

Bingo!

Dean's POV

My thumb taps the red 'End Call' at the bottom of the phone screen. Gazing over my shoulder, Maricela approaches the telescope, phone pressed against her ear. Her back faced us as she spoke quietly, making it hard to eavesdrop. I watched intently, trying to decipher what kind of call it was with each movement made. She delicately entwines her fingers with her chocolate-brown curls, running her hand through her hair before letting it fall in a soft wave to the middle of her back. After a moment's pause, she turns slightly, allowing the light to catch the natural red undertones in her hair.

Without taking my eyes off her, I nudge Sam. "Who's she talking to?"

Casting a quick glance in her direction, he then refocuses on me and nonchalantly shrugs, "Not sure, I didn't ask."

Mari turns toward us, then thanks whoever was on the other line before hanging up. Her combat boots lightly thud against the wood floor as she walks back to the group. She tosses her phone on the table, allowing a sigh to escape her perfectly full, pink lips. Her russet brown eyes met mine, instantly holding me captive. The sense of time had lost all meaning; the only measurement was the quickening pace of my heart the longer I stared.

The ends of her mouth curled with delight as her cheeks flushed a scarlet hue. She tore her gaze away, breaking my trance, only to steal another glance. Embarrassed, I fixate my attention on the floor, trying to shake the strange flutter inside and get to business. Come on, Dean, I thought. What are you doing? I straighten my posture, standing tall at the foot of the table.

Nodding at her phone, I inquire, "Who was that?"

Her soft yet sharp eyes shifted from the table to me, to Sam, sharing, "That was my cousin, Miguel. He's a Captain in the Army and coincidentally knows I'm a hunter. A friend of his just informed him of an unusual and new case—so new that the media hasn't even covered it yet. And, from what he told me, this could be a case."

"Really?" Sam asks, sitting up in his chair. "What'd he say?"

"Three civilian bodies were found dead in a city bus located on a Naval Special Forces Base in San Diego. The craziest part is that three soldiers boarded the bus, only to exit moments later with their bags left behind but the driver alongside them."

Sammy and I exchange bewildered looks.

"We've hunted on less," says Sam.

I nod before looking up at Mari, giving her a pleased smile. "Good work, kid."

She beams but subtly tries to hide the excitement from my gaze. "We should get going. It's a long drive, and we gotta make it before they clean up the crime scene."

"Why don't you hang back? Sam and I will check it out, see if it's our kind of thing." I speak up, wary of her coming along.

The younger hunter scoffs, shaking her head.

"No way, Winchester. I'm coming with." Before I could protest, she finishes. "It's my lead. So either I'm going with, or we don't go at all."

My eyes divert to my brother, expecting a little help. He closes his laptop before scooting his chair away from the table, standing to meet my height.

"Her lead." He concurs.

And so it begins.

Sam walks past me, going to his room to change into his Fed suit. A smug grin sits upon Maricela's face, only adding to my irritation. I cannot resist rolling my eyes at her sudden surge of confidence. It only took a few hours, but as predicted, they both overruled me. Having the final say was easier with Sam, but with Mari's stubbornness involved, it proved to be a little bit harder.

She picks up her laptop, resting it against her hip before walking towards me. I avoid eye contact, refusing to look at the objector. Her taunting chuckles echo in my ears when she notices my pout. My breath hitches when her fingers wrap around the placket of my overshirt, pulling it towards her. As if she were Wonder Woman using her lasso to hypnotize me, I helplessly surrendered my attention to her.

"We agreed I was here to help, so let me do my job."

I briefly gaze into her eyes before shutting my own. With a cautious but definite nod, I convey my agreement and acknowledge the validity of her point. "Yeah, you're right."

"Oh—I'm sorry," She lets the fabric go before cupping her hand around her ear and leaning forward dramatically. "I don't think I heard you right. Kev, did you hear him?"

She turned to Kevin, who was watching us with a playful smirk. "I don't know... Say it again, Dean."

"Shut up." I roll my eyes in exasperation before moving past her to change into my uncomfortable costume.

She laughs, following after me. "I think you said I was right."

"Don't get used to it," I grumble, expecting to be annoyed.

Instead, a slow and unexplainable smile spreads across my face.

Maricela's POV

"We stopped for that?" Dean asks, annoyance laced in his words. He gapes at the uniforms as I climb into the back seat.

"Of course! What'd ja' think? We would stroll onto a military base and pretend we were the FBI?"

"Yes, that's exactly what we're going to do." He answers in a monotone voice.

On the way to California, I had Dean stop at a friend's house so I could pick up Navy Fatigues for us to wear. My entire plan revolved around the uniforms. I knew from experience that there would be some pushback from the boys—i.e. Dean—but it was a great plan.

"The MPs aren't just gonna let a couple of Feds sniff around their crime scene. It happened on a military base, automatically making it theirs, not federal." I explained. "Now, these fatigues will be our tickets onto the scene, no questions asked. And if they do, I have a safety net."

"I don't think so," Dean argues. "We know how to do our jobs. You're not just going to come in and change what we've been doing for years."

"That's not what I'm trying to do. I'm just thinking sensibly here. We're talking about military police—"

"Maybe she's right, Dean. It's a little different than our usual gigs." Sam speaks up, thankfully agreeing with me.

"No, no!" The older Winchester's voice raises. "We're doing this my way. End of story."

I sit back in my seat, huffing with frustration. Sometimes, I forget how stubborn this man-child can be, and he never has a problem reminding me. None of us talked for the rest of the ride there. Since Dean wasn't the only one who was obstinate, I quietly got ready to change into the uniform. I traded out my glasses for contacts before slicking my hair into a low bun. After untying my bootlaces and shimmying off my jacket, I wait for the perfect time to slide on the fatigues.

When we arrived on base, local and military police flooded the area. Upon doing additional research on the way here—freak thunderstorms and every cow dead within three miles—it was concluded this was a demon-related case. And, as per usual, I was side-benched!

"All right, stay here," Dean mutters before he and Sam exit the car.

Once the doors were closed, I wiggled on the uniform, careful not to be seen by any passersby. My fingers moved at an unparalleled speed as I tied my laces, surprising even myself. Stealthily, I slipped out of the Impala with my cap firmly on my head. As I anticipated, it wasn't going well for them.

"Agents," I call over to the men. "I'm guessing D.C. sent you?"

They turned around, recognizing my voice. Their eyes scan me up and down, taking in my uniform. Sam stares with curiosity and amusement while Dean's disapproving glare says everything he couldn't out loud.

"Yes, ma'am," Sam plays along with a sly smile.

I halt next to Dean, his gaze fixed on me while the soldier across from us firmly asks, "And you are?"

My eyes scan over her name tape: Bates. Confidently, I introduced my cover, "I'm Corporal Maricela Ramirez."

Her eyes narrowly take in my youthful appearance—clearly doubting, she remarks, "You look a little too young to be a Corporal."

"And you look a little too Army to work on a Navy case." Without regard, I sass back. "Sorry, what's your rank?"

Her arms cross over her chest, staring me down. "I'm a Sergeant."

"Well, Sergeant Bates, my Captain ordered me to meet these agents and make sure they got to see the crime scene. So, if you could just let us pass—"

"That so?" She interrupted, her attitude smug. "Then maybe he and I ought to have a chat."

I could feel the boy's eyes on me, waiting for my next move. Ignoring them, I say with nonchalance, "Not a problem. Then, after, I could have a conversation with your Commanding Officer."

"Oh, yeah? About what, exactly?" She challenges.

"How sloppy you look," I say with fake disgust. "Maybe I'll start by telling him how you wear your hair: In a looong braid. I'm sure he'll remind you that when in uniform, if a woman's hair falls below the collar, it must be neatly and inconspicuously pinned, fastened, or secured to the head. Or, I can begin by asking why his officer thinks she can address herself as a higher rank than the first-class private badges she wears. But, hey, if you are telling the truth—no harm, no foul. Right, Sergeant?"

She uncrosses her arms, her demeanor growing softer. My hand reaches into the pocket of my fatigues, pulling out my phone. I extend my arm to hand her the cell phone, asking, "You still want to call him?"

Bates stares at the device, internally weighing her options. I glance up at the Winchesters, each holding their nervous breaths. The tension in the air was palpable as we waited for her response. The officer and I locked eyes, trying to read the other's thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, Bates shakes her head. The corners of her mouth barely lifted into a bitter smile as she exhaled in defeat before walking away. I drop my arm to my side, grateful for the win.

"That went well," Sam was the first to speak as we walked around the transit.

"Thanks to yours truly," I tease, stepping onto the high-floor bus sandwiched between the Winchesters.

"Well, sweetheart," Dean mutters into my ear. "Guess you're more than just a pretty face, after all."

As I swallowed his words, I swallowed back the knot in my throat. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the ambiguous remark. I should have been offended that he reduced my role within the team to mere objectification, and yet, when he pressed his back against mine as he purred the idiom, I was left feeling stupefied. Was what he said meant in a demeaning or complimentary way? Instead of dwelling on it too long, I suppressed the ambivalent thoughts to concentrate on the case.

The forensic photographer was toward the back of the bus, snapping various shots of a victim who was slumped over a few seats. My feet carried me further into the bus and away from Dean before stopping to examine the blonde woman's corpse. I gently lift her blouse and instantly see two scars: one on her lower abdomen from a blade and the other near her ribs from a bullet. A second gunshot scar was accounted for over her left breast, aimed toward her heart. I pulled her shirt back down before standing up straight.

"Her wounds are old—like completely scarred over—old. " I murmur, trying to puzzle the pieces together.

"So is this guy's," Sam adds.

My eyes wander over to see his victim's shirt pushed aside, exposing a similar scarred bullet wound over his chest.

"Hey," Dean walks over. "Anything?"

"Yeah, this guy was shot in the heart." Sam answers.

The older Winchester inquires, staring down at the victim. "That what killed him?"

"Maybe—15, 20 years ago." Sam points at all the victims. "Every one of these bodies has a fatal wound or two or three, but they're all old."

"So, we're looking at meatsuits?" Dean asks rhetorically. "The bodies took a licking, and the demon inside kept them ticking."

"Probably. I think they were possessed, and now those soldiers are." I say, looking at the lifeless bodies discarded around the public transit.

"Hey," Dean's gruff voice utters in a low tone, alerting us. He nods behind Sam toward the front of the bus just before Sergeant Bates steps on.

"Excuse me, agents," Bates says as we turn to give her our attention. She approached with a tablet in her hand before proceeding to share, "We pulled this off a security camera. You might want to take a look."

She gives the device to Sam, crossing her hands in front of her, and waits for us to watch. Parking Lot 4 surveillance begins to play; the soldiers walk off and away from the bus before the driver follows as if nothing had happened. Sam pauses the footage and zooms in on the driver, only to show the woman staring at the camera, smiling sinisterly. I glance at the younger Winchester as his eyes widen, and his mouth slightly falls in surprise. My vision blurs Sam out as it focuses on his brother. Judging by his same reaction—with a hint of anger—they knew who she was.

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[the-catboy-minyan]

Hello, as someone who is comes from Jewish heritage I just wanted to ask for your advice.

I am American and I don't feel comfortable supporting pro-palestinians because they are threatening us online and within my physical surroundings. I wish people would understand that many MANY pro palestinian protesters seem to think that every Jewish person is the cause of this genocide and evil.

When I voice this discomfort, people call me a zionist and evil but I just don't want my people to die needlessly. I do not support any genocide, only thing I support is the protection of jewish lives and our faith.

They claim they just hate the government but this is a lie. The hate is for us as a people, as a religion, as an identity. I am trying to distance myself from the news and what is going on, but every day it gets harder and harder to try to hide from the growing antisemitism against my family.

I'm scared of another world war. I'm scared for what this could escalate to another Sho'ah

✡️

שאלוהים יתן לך את כל ברכותיו

I'm sorry, I don't have any advice for you. the only thing we can do right now is to let our voice be heard, I think, scream to the world that we're human, and that they're not punching up like they're so convinced they are.

this is just me thinking out loud, but maybe if maybe more Jews create their own pro palestine marches, and show the world how to advocate for peace without veing antisemitic, it could make a difference? show that not every Jew who's concerned with how eadical these protests are becoming is a (((zionist))) in disguise, but actually a human being?

I don't know, please try to stay safe, I can't even imagine how hard it must be for American Jews right now. in regards to antisemitism IRL, I had the privilege of never experiencing that, only a handful of slurs that happen when my posts breach containment and the dehumenization that comes with being Israeli.

I don't know.