#but we do not live in a world without war yet

[lostnb22]

Israel is ethno state, why do you believe in divine right?

you're right i do believe who is to blame matters very much thank for playing. I refuse to acknowledge racist rhetoric against a resistance group because of the reality of oppression, why do lean towards israeli sources?

why are you so obsessed with defending israel?

Caring about innocent lives is not up for debate, yet you're not arguing for that, you're arguing the same exact sentiments as trump.

lets break this down slowly because this is very obviously tense

the fact that people around the world are recognizing the jewish star of david as a symbol of genocide is the fault of the israeli military and in my opinion also its supporters. hamas has not bombed any hospitals or schools. why didnt you comment on that?

where is the evidence i asked for to prove they were "in the tunnels"

where is it? no it cannot be sourced from an israeli news site sorry yes that is what we call a bias

Yes there are antisemites out there, they exist, its scary, but isreali civilians are not being bombed in their sleep - Palestinians are.

why are you acting like jewish people are being oh so targeted? you have that one guy as an example? one guy compared to literal thousands of Palestinian civilians?

i am not acting like you're wrong, i am telling you very blatantly this "pr war" is killing palestinians civilians, thats not press, theres no stunt thats reality.

"How is it delusional to know that hostages only hold value if your enemy considers them to? And if the existence of Hostages were enough to justify war crimes, there wouldn't be people trying to hold Israel accountable in any capacity." this is the kind of conspiratorial jargon i expect to hear from joe rogan. You dont see the flaw in this line of thinking? You dont see how that is dehumanizing to Palestinians? How can you only care when its jewish people facing such violations?

i dont personally call humans beings "the enemy" in any capacity

i dont even like playing multiplayer games because of that line of thinking

once again referncing dr gabor as i did in another response:

"how do i have compassion for these animals?" asks an israeli sympathizer to the jewish doctor specialized in early childhood development. seriously a profound speech, worth a listen.

"And if you don't support terrorism, where's your condemnation of Hamas? Why are you denying their actions as "fascist propaganda"? Why didn't you address the fact that Hamas is holding hostages that YOU think are without value, making them sadistic monsters who just want to torture Jews????"

you're grouping an entire race of people as expendable for a personal agenda, that is how and why it is dehumanizing. im not blaming all israelis i blame the military and israeli governement officials. why do you blame hamas for Israel's decision to withhold aid causing mass starvation?

i literally defended the hostages right to protest, you have not commented on that either. i explicity stated "no one in their right mind supports terrorism, and no where in my arguments have i claimed to, so why are you defending israel and playing into their blame game?" and youre response was off the walls

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Freedom Flotilla Coalition (@gazafreedomflotilla)

"My name is Greta Thunberg and I am from Sweden. If you see this video, we have been intercepted and kidnapped in international waters by the Israeli occupational forces or forces that support Israel."

"I urge all my friends, family, and comrades to put pressure on the Swedish government to release me and the others as soon as possible."

These are the names of the 12 activists on the Freedom Flotilla sailing to deliver aid to Gaza, and now intercepted by the IOF.

Please contact your representatives, especially if you are from one of the countries listed above. These governments have a responsibility to see to the release of their citizens from IOF custody.

[lheslie]

Mark Grayson X Otherworldy Reader

Imagine being a fan of Invincible, you're not only a fan, but you're also an artist who draws Invincible.

Okay, so you are a fan, Imagine meeting Mark and his Variants, who wouldn't want that right?

So- now hear me out.

You were getting ready for bed, you wore your favorite Invincible T-shirt before getting to bed, which had all of the Variants in it from the Invincible War panel, you lay down in bed, opening your favorite app where you read your favorite Invincible Fanfics of your favorite character. At the same time, you drifted off to sleep, but before you slept, you wished to meet the Invincible Variants in person.

Your wish came true, you don't know who did it but it came true.

---

You appeared in front of Mark's house, knocking on his door, you barged into his house the moment he opened it, and  hoped that he was alone without his parents.

"You alone?" You quickly asked while he looked confused as to why a stranger suddenly barged into his place wearing an Invincible shirt.

"Sit down, I have a lot of shit to say, so buckle up." You told him as he sat on the sofa in his living room.

"So you're from another world? Where do we exist as a TV Show [TITLE CARD]?" He asks as you nod in response, showing him your shirt, and phone, showing him the panels of the Invincible Comic.

"So have you gained your powers yet or nah?" You asked him.

"Yes, I gained it a few days ago." He replied, "Sweet now, I don't know how long I'll be stuck in this world, but you've GOT to take me flying please." You begged him.

"What do I have to gain in exchange?" He asks you. "With me, you'll be able to save millions of lives in the future and prevent calamities that would happen to you." You smirked.

"That sounds like a good Deal, and your name is?" Mark offered his hand to shake yours as you grabbed it. "Y/N." You replied, jumping up and down celebrating this awesome deal.

"How did you even find my house?" He asked.

"I spawned literally in front of it and saw your face." You replied.

"Also, I have nowhere to live, can I live with you guys? Also, don't tell your parents that I'm from another world, please, that would cause TREMENDOUS DISASTER," you groaned, thinking about it.

"What disaster?" He tried to ask.

"Better not knowing right now, TRUST ME. Although you WOULD hate me if I don't tell you, but trust me, I've thought of ways, trying to come up with solutions, but there are instances that we should not change in this story." You explained.

"So I'm just supposed to trust you blindly?" He points out

"Well it is your choice, I did tell you things that only you would know as proof." You sighed looking through the episodes inside your phone.

Mark did not want to trust you but he decided to trust you for the time being.

"Okay, you can stay here, but if you do anything that will hurt anyone or my family, I will kick you out." Mark added a clause to your deal.

"Cool, I'll do that then, plus ya'll are my favorite characters I'd rather die than let anything happen to you guys." You smiled. "Come on take me out flying with you!" You squealed in excitement trying to pull Mark up.

He took you out flying, as you two went up a tall building. "Let's take a selfie." You look at Mark as you open your phone, taking a selfie with him.

"This is my dream that came true." You smiled at him as he awkwardly smiled back.

The two of you got home, as Debbie was already there, so you and Mark had to sneak in through his window.

"You have to change your shirt." Mark points out, handing you one of his shirts.

"Thanks!" You said grabbing it, getting inside his bathroom to change.

"Is anyone here?" Debbie asks, "Uh, a friend came over?" Mark awkwardly smiles at his mother.

"Hi, Mrs. Grayson, I'm Y/N." You rushed over to greet her, shaking your hand.

"They'll be staying for some time is that okay?" Mark asks his mother.

"I'm okay with it, but remember to ask your father too, don't do anything bad okay?" Debbie replies, closing the door.

Mark nods to his mom, and he turns to look at you touching his stuff. "Lotion and Tissue, huh?" You look at him smiling and giggling, he rushed over and threw the lotion and tissue into the trash, as you walked over to his bed, lying down on it.

"I can't believe it, I'm actually in your room!" You laughed. "You have no idea how many people would kill me for this chance of being alone in a room with you."

"A lot of people liked me in your world?" He asked picking his clothes from the floor and throwing them in the laundry basket. "Yes, even though you never clean your room." You laughed at him as he also started to pick up the trash and properly dispose of it in the trash can.

"I-I clean my room!" He yelled in defense. "Pssh you only cleaned it when Amber came over." You pointed out.

"Amber? Like Amber Bennett from my school? She came over to my house?" He asked seemingly interested.

"Yup, she did, and you made her wait inside your room for an hour while you went to do hero work." You said

"Awe man, I could never." He pouts. "You did," you told him as you showed him the TV scenes

He groaned, "Will I ever end up with someone then?" He asks you. "Can't tell you that." You giggled.

"Spoilers." You added, "Can we take more pictures? You're my favorite character! Come on!" You yelled.

"I-I'm your favorite character?" He looks at you. "Yes! You're my favorite, you have no idea how much I like you." You tell him face to face.

"Wow, I never met someone so bold before." He chuckles flustered. "Well who knows what time I'd get taken away from you, so I'm spending every minute I can with you." You smiled at him as you sat up.

"Can I hug you?" You kindly opened your arms for him, as he slowly approached to hug you, and when he did, you hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go.

"It's weird that you're letting a stranger do this to you." You tell him.

"Well you are my fan, my first fan that I have met? I don't want to disappoint." He chuckles again.

"I love you." You look at him. "I love you so muchhhh ahhhhhhh." You back-popped down onto his bed.

He was flushed, astonished, and shocked at what you had said.

"W-what?" He asked.

"Don't make me repeat what I just said, you'd make me go insane." You pout as you throw him his own pillow.

More headcanons:

- he kindly lends you his clothes, but he'll take you out shopping tomorrow.

- You have to help him clean his room.

- he loves hearing you praise him.

- he wants to know more about how many people like him.

- You showed him your shrine of him, and he was stunned in one place.

"You have action figures of me?" He looks at your phone. "Yup." You replied. "How much did it cost?" He asked.

"You don't want to know." You looked away.

- he gets curious as to why you liked him so much.

- he asks a lot about you too.

- he loves your Invincible T-shirt

When he found out you wrote fanfiction and drawings about him.

"You wrote this?" He looks in awe reading your work.

"Okay don't read the rest." You said snatching your phone from his hand.

"Hey!! I want to know more!!" He says

"Yeah, I already showed you all of my fluff and that's it." You say.

"And you drew this?" He looks at himself.

"Mini Invincible? This is so cute!" He exclaimed looking at himself in a smaller version.

"Is this canon?" He asks.

"We wish." You sighed.

- Of course, you'll never let him see the NSFW parts because you were NOT THAT INSANE.

- he gets flustered and uncomfortable whenever you get a bit flirty with him. You immediately noticed this and apologized and made sure to ask for his boundaries.

"You noticed?" He asked. "Of course I did, I am not stupid, I don't want to hurt the man that I love, so tell me if I'm going too far I'll immediately stop." You sternly said.

- You did stop, but he kinda missed it, he also loves it when you respect his boundaries.

- he loves it whenever you notice the small things that he does, and it boosts his confidence.

- he loves taking you out flying with him as he showed you his world.

- will be sad if you suddenly return home.

"So you're telling me, you don't know what brought you here?" He asked. Looking at you. "Nope I don't, that's why I'm trying to savour every second I have with you." You sighed, smiling at him.

- This made him spend more time with you, taking you out to arcades and sightseeing, comparing both of your worlds.

- he takes you out because you're his No.1 fan, not totally because he started falling in love with you.

[nerianasims]

I'm always relieved when I see a Ukrainian I know post something after Russia has murdered yet more of them.

I am not relieved that my government is disallowing them from striking military targets in Russia. I don't know wtf is going on there. We can't know everything, or even much, about international politics at this scale, but in this case I can't even imagine what the hell the logic is. Except. One thing.

In a history class on WWII, I read many well-researched papers that argued that Neville Chamberlain's whole appeasement, "peace in our time" thing was a ruse. Britain's army and its allies (especially the United States) were not prepared for another world war yet, in material terms. It was a stalling tactic to build up their militaries. They didn't think Hitler would stop; they were not so stupid. But they figured Hitler (and Stalin, who remember was on Hitler's side at this point) would believe that the Allied powers were weak, and therefore not themselves prepare for a huge Allied war machine.

Things didn't end up going along with the Allies' timeline because war is never predictable. So there was a hell of a lot of scrambling. But while morale and political will are incredibly important to war, so is the simple reality of having the equipment and soldiers to deal with it. And while we could probably crush Russia's military relatively easily right now (so long as we didn't try a land invasion), they are allied with China.

[mysteriousxgirls]

Harmony watched him with tear-soaked eyes as he abruptly stood. I’m gonna fucking kill them. Her breath caught in her throat. No. Panic twisted inside her, sharper than anything Morta Fenice had ever done to her directly. She couldn’t let him get pulled into this storm. Couldn’t let him carry her demons, couldn’t watch him bleed for sins that weren’t his. This wasn’t his fight — and if it became his, it would destroy him. “B-Babe...” she whispered, her voice breaking as she watched him pace — already lost in strategy, in defenses, in locks and guards and cameras. In every desperate way he could protect her, protect them. She hadn’t meant for this to consume him. She had only wanted him to understand — not take it on. Not become part of the nightmare that had already consumed so much of her life. But now, the weight of her fear sat heavy on his shoulders too. Because even if Nate didn’t hunt them, Niko would. And he wouldn’t need to search long. Niko would see them together — on Love Is Blind, on every screen, on every camera. The risk was already in motion. And if Niko found him… She couldn’t bear the thought. Couldn’t breathe through it. When Nate knelt in front of her again, his eyes locked onto hers — like she was fragile glass and he would shatter if he couldn’t protect her. He promised her everything — his life, his love, his strength — and it broke her. The kiss to her forehead felt like a goodbye she couldn’t accept. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the fear away, trying to steady her heartbeat. But her chest caved. She slid off the couch, sinking to her knees, and wrapped her arms around him like he was the only thing holding her together. Because he was. She had finally found him. Her home. The man she never believed she’ would be allowed to love — and yet here he was. Loving her with a fierceness that both healed and terrified her. It all felt so fragile. Like one wrong breath could make it disappear. Like she wasn’t meant to have this kind of happiness. Her voice cracked as she whispered against his chest. “Please…” Her fingers gripped him tighter. “Please don’t do anything stupid. Don’t go looking for them. Don’t try to fight them.” Her voice broke fully now, her words coming out like a prayer. “I’m begging you, Nate… I can survive losing everything — but I can’t lose you.”

Ella’s sobs were quiet, strangled — the kind that ripped from deep inside her, the kind no one had ever heard from her before. She never allowed herself to be this vulnerable. Never showed anyone how badly she could break. But now, in Azriel’s arms, she couldn’t stop. It hurt. God, it hurt. Her chest burned, like her heart was tearing itself apart from the inside out. She had lost him. The one man she thought could give her a future. A life. A way out. Azriel had warned her. Told her it wasn’t safe. Told her what kind of world they lived in. But she let herself hope. Let herself believe. She went on Love Is Blind without telling Ryder, and when he found out, his threats cut through her like knives: You’ll never leave Morta Fenice. It’s your only family. Forget him. Forget the man she loved. Forget freedom. Forget everything she wanted. “Azriel…” she whispered his name like a lifeline, like a confession that still trembled on her lips. And then his promise came — soft, dark, steady — I’ll burn whoever I have to. I’ll give you everything they told us we couldn’t have. That broke her completely. The tears came harder now, violent and raw. She sobbed against him, because she couldn’t carry it anymore — not the hope, not the guilt, not the impossible choices. Not the war raging between love and survival. And for the first time in a long time, she let herself fall apart — because in his arms, it finally felt safe to do so.

Nate knelt in front of her, his hands cradling hers like they were made of glass. But as Harmony spoke, her voice trembling and cracking under the weight of everything she'd carried alone, something inside him snapped. Her words didn’t just cut—they burned. Men took advantage of me. Used me. Hurt me. He didn’t flinch, but his jaw clenched hard enough to ache. His breath faltered, fists tightening where they held her shaking hands. And when she said I gave him me—something shattered in him. He wanted to scream. Wanted to punch a hole through the wall. Wanted to find Shadow, this sick bastard, and make sure he never touched another woman again. But Harmony was looking at him like he was the only thing holding her upright. Like he was the last tether keeping her from collapsing completely. So Nate forced himself to stay still. To stay safe. For her. For their baby. “I’m gonna fucking kill them,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise to the universe. A vow carved straight out of fury.

He stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps like he could physically walk off the rage clawing at his chest. "I don't want to take your independence from you but going to get you some security. I need to look at these locks, the security of the garden..." His mind went off about little things he would need to start thinking about now. How could he best protect them? He wasn’t part of that world, had never touched anything like a gang, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew how powerful they were. How untouchable they thought they were. But they’d just touched the one thing he would burn the whole world down to protect. He stopped, turned back to her. His voice was low, controlled but raw. “Harmony,” he said softly, kneeling again in front of her. His eyes found hers. “You’re not losing me. Not now, not ever.” He reached out, gently placing one hand over hers, the other resting lightly over her stomach. “You’re not losing us.” His voice broke just a little then, but he kept going. “You’ve survived hell. More than anyone should have to. But you’re not alone anymore. You never will be again.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead and letting them settle there for a short while before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “I swear to you, on everything I have—I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep him safe. Whatever it takes.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t care who he is. I don’t care who Shadow is. And I swear, I’ll put them in the fucking ground before I let them take that from us.” He kissed her—gentle, steady, like a promise sealed in silence. Then he pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms, his heartbeat thunderous in his chest. “I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair. “No matter what comes next, I’ve got you.”

Azriel caught her as she collapsed into him, his arms locking around her like instinct—tight, firm, grounding. He felt her fall apart in real time. Every breath that rattled through her ribs. Every word that trembled out like she was choking on glass. Her sobs hit his chest like bullets. She could’ve stabbed him in the gut and it wouldn’t have hurt more. He didn’t speak right away. Didn’t trust his voice. He just held her, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other curling around her spine like he could protect every shattered piece of her with the strength of his grip. His throat burned. Because he understood. She wasn’t wrong. Morta Fenice didn’t let people go. It twisted you. Owned you. Branded you from the inside out until the lines between right and wrong bled into survival. And Ella—God, Ella had survived more than most ever would. But she hadn’t come out unscathed. Neither of them had. He leaned his chin to the top of her head, his voice low, gravelled and steady. “You're not the problem, Ella.” His words were deliberate. Measured. “You never were.” He exhaled through his nose, slow and rough, his voice darkening. “They made us think we had no way out.” He pulled back just enough to look at her, cupping her jaw with calloused fingers, brushing his thumb along her cheek where her tears still clung. “You want a life?” he said softly. “A real one? The kind with a home, a table, the smell of dinner in the kitchen, and laughter in the next room?” His voice almost broke. “I’ll find it for you. I don’t care what I have to do. Who I have to burn. I’ll find it. I’ll give you everything they told us we couldn’t have.”

[thethief1996]

700 Palestinians were killed in the last 24 hours and the airstrikes are more violent each night. Gaza's hospitals have fuel left for two more days. Israel only allowed aid into Gaza on the condition they didn't carry fuel. The Indonesian hospital has shut down already, because doctors have no supplies and no choice but to let the wounded die. They're calling it a collapse but the term doesn't do it justice.

Over a 100 incubator babies are at risk. There are 50.000 pregnant women in Gaza right now, and 5.500 due to give birth this month. Menstruating people are taking pills in order to stop their periods, because they do not have pads or water to maintain hygiene. Surgeons are operating without anesthesia. Water is not reaching Gazans because there's no electricity or fuel for water pumps.

There's no excuse for this. Israel justifies the airstrikes by saying they want to destroy Hamas infrastructure and release the hostages, but they have refused to negotiate for their release. Hamas informed Israel they wanted to release two elderly women without anything in return, and Israel refused. Netanyahu said they wouldn't take their own civilians back because it was "mendacious propaganda." When the hostages were finally released, Netanyahu prohibited the hospital from giving press releases. Yocheved Lifshitz went behind their backs and talked to the press anyway, saying she was treated very well by Hamas, but the government abandoned them. They're being used as straw men. Israel is conditioning the entry of fuel to the release of hostages and yet, according to The Wall Street Journal, when Hamas proposed to exchange 50 hostages for fuel they denied. IDF officials have said they fear the release of more hostages because that might withhold the order to their ground invasion. They do not care as long as they can use the hostages as a pretext for their slaughtering.

There's a turning tide for Palestine in public support. Support for Israel was built through decades of propaganda and we are making a dent into it. Zionists are desperate, holding zoom meetings to promote zionism, but we have to do so much more. We have to shame people in power into supporting the Palestinian cause.

Keep yourself updated and share Palestinian voices, looking to inform yourself from the sources. Palestinians have asked of us only that we share, tweet and post, over and over. Muna El-Kurd said every tweet is like a treasure to them, because their voices are repressed on social media and even on this very app. Make it your action item to share something about the Palestinian plight everyday. Here are some resources:

Al Jazeera

Anadolu Agency

Mondoweiss

Boycott Divest Sanction Movement

Palestinian Youth Movement

Mohammed El-Kurd (twitter / instagram)

Al-Shabaka (twitter / instagram)

Mariam Barghouti (twitter / instagram)

Muhammad Shehada (twitter)

Motaz Azaiza (instagram) - reporting directly from Gaza

Take action. You can participate in boycotts wherever you are in the world, through BDS guidelines. Right now, they are focusing on boycotting (don't be overwhelmed by gigantic boycott lists. Only boycott additional brands if you can):

Carrefour

HP

Puma

Sabra

Sodastream

Ahava cosmetics

Israeli fruits and vegetables

Push for a cultural boycott - pressure your favorite artist to speak out on Palestine and cancel any upcoming performances on occupied territory (Lorde cancelled her gig in Israel because of this. It works.)

If you can, participate in direct action or donate. Palestine Action works to shut down Israeli weapons factories in the UK and USA, and have successfully shut down one of their firms in London. Some of the activists are going on trial and are calling for mobilizing on court.

Call your representatives. The Labour Party in the UK had an emergency meeting after several councilors threatened to resign if they didn't condemn Israeli war crimes. Calling to show your complaints works, even more if you live in a country that funds genocide.

FOR PEOPLE IN THE USA: USCPR has developed this toolkit for calls

FOR PEOPLE IN THE UK: Friends of Al-Aqsa UK and Palestine Solidarity UK have made toolkits for calls and emails

FOR PEOPLE IN GERMANY: Here's a toolkit to contact your representatives by Voices in Europe for Peace

FOR PEOPLE IN IRELAND: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace

FOR PEOPLE IN POLAND: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace

FOR PEOPLE IN DENMARK: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace

FOR PEOPLE IN SWEDEN: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace

FOR PEOPLE IN AUSTRALIA: Here's a toolkit by Stand With Palestine

FOR PEOPLE IN CANADA: Here's a toolkit by Indepent Jewish Voices for Canada

Join a protest. Here's a constantly updating list of protests:

Global calendar

USA calendar

Australia calendar

Here are upcoming events:

CANBERRA/NGUNNAWAL, AUSTRALIA – Wed Oct 25, 11 am, National Press Club. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/Cyh1xy1BMrU/

OXFORD, ENGLAND – Wed Oct 25, 12:15 pm, Cornmarket. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/CykroKeInz3/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

SMITH COLLEGE (US) – Wed Oct 25, 12 pm, Chapin Lawn. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/CymT8f5vnHN/?img_index=1

ST CATHERINES, ON ( CANADA) – Wed Oct 25, 6 pm, 61 Geneva St Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/889319005528757/

TORONTO, CANADA – Wed Oct 25, 5 pm, Sidney Smith Hall. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/CyjVbpGvva8/

SANT CUGAT, CATALONIA, SPAIN – Thurs Oct 26, 6 pm, Davant l’Ajuntament. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/CynL834tgg9/?img_index=4

MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct 27, 7 pm, Federation Square. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/Cyhyd0vhP8t/

LIVORNO, ITALY – Sat Oct 28, 2:30 pm, Piazza Cavour. Info https://www.instagram.com/p/CyiWJ06MXpM/

MINNEAPOLIS, MN (US) – Sat Oct 28, 1 pm, Lake Street and Minnehaha.

ROME, ITALY – Sat Oct 28, Rome. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/Cyi7ey-MMs1/?img_index=1

ROME, ITALY – Sat Nov 4, Rome. Info TBA: https://www.instagram.com/p/CyndKUitnMU/

WASHINGTON, DC (USA) – Sat Nov 4, 12 pm, White House. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/CyiecRtr9-B/

Wollongong: Rally at Crown Street Mall Amphitheatre on 21 Oct at 1 PM

Melbourne: Blak and Palestinian Solidarity Rally at Victorian Parliament House Steps on 25 Oct at 6 PM

HOUSTON: Thursday, October 26th, 5:45PM, Rice University, Central Quad

VANCOUVER: OCT 28 at 2PM, Vancouver Art Gallery

KITCHENER: Wednesday October 25th at 5 PM at CBC Kitchener

SANTA ANA: 20 Civic Center Plaza, Santa Ana, CA 92701, October 25th at 5:30 pm

TORONTO: WED. OCT 25 at 7PM at Queen's Park

[CAR RALLY] WASHINGTON D.C: Wednesday 10/25 outside the US State Department on the 23rd Street side

Feel free to add more.

[ohnonotthehorrors]

Can I... talk about the theory that winners help craft the next game?

Because, and I really can not say this enough, it puts So Much into perspective.

Everything starts out Normal. Three lives, simple, cut and dry, there hasn't been a winner yet. No one to help craft the game. (And there's something to be said about how simple it really was. Not even a real expectation of the world becoming pvp or combative. No idea of the war to come)

Then Grian wins. The green killer, the man who vowed his first life to the one whose life he took. The next game the boogie man is born. A mechanic that allows and, in fact, demands, a green kill. People can trade lives back and forth, currency and debt wrapped up in one. (can we still be friends? Said the red partner. A life time later and reds are hostile, alone. Maybe it's an answer: No. Not anymore)

Scott wins this time. He refuses to play the game. He will not kill his team, he will love and he will do so fiercely and with all of himself. The next game people are attached through to their very souls. Every bit of damage to one soul is done to its twin. There is no boogeyman. (There is no way for a widow to be left without their love)

Pearl wins and she wins a blood bath. Spent the game draped in red, only wolves for company. Sitting in her tower, shivering in ice, maybe she wanted it to end. To see where it would. Limited life rewards you for killing, limited life has a clock tick tick ticking down, you always no how long you have. A curse yes, but a blessing too.

Now It's Martyn's turn.

And what a turn it is.

Keep your secrets, says the disloyal man, keep them well. Everything hurts, everything Matters, says the man fracturing with every loss. (What if we could love each other without hurting? Says The Hand, who never wanted to be coated in blood)

More importantly, Martyn has always seen the watchers below the surface. Now, they're right here in front of him. Something that could almost... be rebelled against, no? Something that someone else could finally point to and say: hey, hey isn't that familiar?

[ariichive]

ESCAPE -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

did you really believe it would be that easy to slip away?

cw: gender neutral, yandere, manipulation, wars, violence, possessive behavior, delusional behavior, reader tries to jump in the dreamscape, suggestive, anaxa uses a ball gag :,) 3.1 spoilers in mydei's

sunday `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

something wasn’t right. the extreme sense of deja vu was sickening and it felt as if eyes were on you at all times. the dreamscape was supposed to be a place of comfort and warmth, but all you felt now was anxiety.

of course, your dreams weren’t always like this. the planet of festivities was a guilty pleasure, admittedly. the vast opportunities of the dreamscape was hard to past on.

but now, you needed to wake up.

it didn’t help that there was no one else in your dream, no one but the head of the oak family.

“i think you look most beautiful like this, no? for my eyes only.”

you could hear his voice, but you couldn’t see him.

no matter what corner you turned, no matter what stairs you went up, it was all the same.

why couldn’t you wake up?

“see how you’re living in repeat? how everything is dreading on, nothing new in your dull life?”

you stopped your running, a pounding headache coming on. “g-get out of my head!” it was so frustrating, hearing the same thing over and over.

“i’m not in your head my dear.” there was a sharp intake of silence before you felt a breath on your ear.

“i’m here with you.”

turning around, there was no one there. faintly, you could hear the gentle sound of his laughter, on increasing your headache.

tired of the constant annoyance that was sunday, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

finding the nearest building, one that was high enough, you were quick to ascend its stairs. eventually, you found yourself on the edge of a roof.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

there was a hint of worry in his voice concealed by anger, one you would’ve missed if you hadn’t known sunday for the time you have.

“if you’re not going to let me out, i have to do it on my own.”

his former amusement was no longer present. "you think that's the way out?"

you didn't answer. the wind howled around you, tugging at your clothes, tempting you forward.

"you're being dramatic."

"and you're being insufferable," you snapped, gripping your arms. the weight of his unseen presence bore down on you, making it hard to breathe. "let me wake up."

a pause. then, softly, "i can't."

your stomach dropped faster than you were about to. "what do you mean you can't?"

"i mean exactly that." his voice was closer now, nearly right beside you. "this isn't just a dream anymore."

"i mean exactly that." his voice was closer now, nearly right beside you. "this isn't just a dream anymore."

the world tilted. no, that wasn't right—the dreamscape itself twisted, colors bleeding into each other, buildings warping, the sky cracking like shattered glass.

"what did you do?" you whispered, taking a shaky step back.

a hand, unseen yet unmistakably there, pressed against the small of your back, keeping you from retreating further. sunday's voice curled into your ear, almost tender.

"i simply made sure you'd stay."

your breath hitched. the weight of his words settled over you like a heavy fog, thick and suffocating. "stay?" the word barely left your lips, a fragile whisper against the growing distortion of the dreamscape.

"mm," sunday hummed, the warmth of his unseen touch lingering, a stark contrast to the cold panic flooding your veins. "isn’t that what you wanted? a place where you could escape, where no one could reach you?"

you shook your head, gripping your temples as the headache intensified. "not like this. never like this."

without hesitating any further, you took a step off the roof.

the wind howled in your ears, your stomach lurching as the world blurred around you. the descent was faster than you expected, the colors of the dreamscape smearing together, twisting, unraveling. but the impact never came.

instead, you stopped.

suspended. weightless. trapped.

a pair of arms, unseen yet unmistakably present, wrapped around you from behind, halting your fall as effortlessly as if you had never moved at all. a familiar chuckle ghosted against your ear, low and amused.

"you really thought i'd let you go that easily?" sunday’s voice was steady, but there was something else underneath—something strained.

you thrashed against the hold, but it was useless. the dreamscape rippled around you like a living thing, reshaping itself at his will. the city, the rooftops, the endless stairs—gone. in their place, an expanse of nothingness stretched in all directions, endless and suffocating.

"let me go," you gritted out.

"where would you even go?" sunday murmured, tightening his hold. "there's nowhere else to run, my dear."

the weight of his words settled deep into your bones. this wasn’t just control—this was possession.

"wake me up!" you screamed, twisting in his grasp, trying to break free.

sunday sighed, and for the first time, you swore you could hear something like regret in his voice.

"i told you already," he murmured. "this isn’t a dream anymore. this is your reality.”

anaxa `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

“i must say, we get a long much better when you don’t interrupt me.”

anaxa was an asshole.

that was the only thing you could think as you couldn’t get any words out due to the ball gag currently strapped to your face.

“wouldn’t you agree, [name]?”

his voice was smooth, laced with that ever-present condescension, as if he were merely discussing philosophy over tea rather than reveling in your current predicament. his golden eyes gleamed with amusement, watching you struggle with something between fascination and boredom.

"ah, but i suppose you can't," he continued, tilting his head ever so slightly. "a shame, really. i do enjoy our little debates. but lately, you've been so very insistent on talking back, especially on matters you know nothing about.”

he leaned in, fingers ghosting over your cheek, his touch featherlight but deliberate. "and we simply can't have that, now can we?"

his smile was sharp, predatory. "good conversation requires patience, listening, knowing when to hold one's tongue." he chuckled, tapping a finger against the gag. "though in your case, i had to take matters into my own hands. don't take it personally."

he used one hand to tightly grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. his finger that was still on the gag pushed it deeper down your throat.

he sighed, “astounding that you were trying to leave me. now look at you, pathetic.”

anaxa’s irritation and anger was clear in his voice.

“you’re lucky i’m patient with you, the gag and restraints should make me seem like a saint.”

he gently tapped the hilt of his gun.

this whole situation was taken out of proportion. you simply wanted to go visit okhema, see people outside of the grove. of course, anaxa didn’t like that.

“you really think the world outside our little haven holds something better for you?” he drawled, his tone laced with contempt. “okhema isn’t some paradise you can just wander into. it’s a chaotic place where nothing is as controlled, as perfect, as we have it here.”

he seemed to take mercy on you as he undid the strap of the gag, taking it out of your mouth delicately.

“you may speak now.”

you almost didn’t want to out of pure spite. “you can’t keep me here forever, it’s inhumane.”

he laughed at that, “what scholar do you know that’s even remotely close to being humane?”

“none because you don’t let me speak to any one else!”

“good answer.” he sent you an approving smile.

he went to undo your restraints, knowing that you won’t try to fight him any more than you already have.

his fingers traced over the red indentations left by the restraints, a slow, deliberate motion that felt more like admiration than remorse. "tch," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "see what you've done to yourself? all this struggling, all this nonsense about leaving, and for what?"

his gaze flicked back up to yours, sharp, assessing. "okhema won’t embrace you like i do. it won’t be kind to you. it won’t understand you." his voice dipped lower, softer, as if he were confiding in you rather than reinforcing his dominance. "but you already know that, don’t you?"

he let go of your wrist, allowing your hand to fall limply into your lap. the relief of movement was fleeting; your body ached, stiff from the restraints, throat dry from the gag. but he watched you expectantly, waiting, reveling in the sight of you thinking carefully before you spoke.

good. he'd taught you something, at least.

"i don’t belong to you," you murmured, voice hoarse but steady.

anaxa stilled. then, in a slow, calculated movement, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "no," he murmured, his gloved fingers curling beneath your chin once more, tilting your face upward. "but you don’t belong to them either."

his lips quirked into something almost affectionate, almost. "and that, my dear, is the difference between us. you keep chasing something that doesn’t exist. i, on the other hand"—his grip tightened ever so slightly—"know exactly what’s mine."

mydei `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

it's been too quiet in the fallen kingdom of castrum kremnos.

mydei's decision to fight off the black tide creatures and strife was to come with unrelenting battles and no time for rest. which it has, but the black tide never ceased. it never tired, never strategized. it was relentless in its hunger, mindless in its destruction. so why had it stopped?

his sculpted body lifted from his throne; if it didn't come to him, he'd just have to find it. he focused his attention on his surroundings, listening to anything that could give a clue.

in the distance, there was a faint sound of screaming and footsteps.

someone else was here?

mydei wasted no time to rush to the sounds.

the air was thick with the scent of old blood and decay, yet something new lurked beneath it—an unfamiliar presence, something that did not belong to the black tide.

rounding a shattered archway, mydei caught sight of movement ahead. a figure darted through the crumbling streets, their breath ragged, their cloak tattered from what must have been a long, desperate flight. behind them, the shadows twisted, writhing unnaturally, as if something unseen slithered just beyond his sight.

he was quick to make eye contact with the person, who looked more shocked than him to see another person.

they were too focused on you rather than mydei, which made defeating them rather easy and efficient.

you collapsed as mydei finished off the remaining monsters, tired from the constant running and trying to catch your breath.

"you look like you've never run a day in your life," he remarked, stepping closer.

before you could fire back, he reached out, grasping your wrist and hoisting you up without waiting for permission. your legs wobbled beneath you, exhaustion threatening to pull you down again, but mydei kept you steady.

"who are you? what kind of fool willingly comes here?" he asked, golden eyes studying you with the same sharpness he reserved for threats.

you gritted your teeth, trying to shake off the dizziness that had settled in your head. the last thing you needed was to seem weak in front of this insufferable man, but the endless running had worn you down to the bone. still, you managed to meet his gaze, your voice rough but steady.

"i'm from a distant town in amphoreus. i came to conduct research on my paper... i just didn't think it would be this bad."

mydei scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “research,” he echoed, as if the word itself was a joke. “you risked your life for research?”

his grip loosened, and you stumbled slightly but caught yourself. your body ached, but your pride refused to let you falter.

“i didn’t think i’d be running for my life the second i arrived,” you muttered, brushing dust from your tattered clothes. “the black tide’s aggression was… beyond what the records described.”

“of course it was,” mydei said flatly. “any book written about castrum kremnos is outdated the moment it’s finished. this place is a graveyard that keeps changing its shape.”

"you seem to know a lot about this place. who exactly are you?" now, it was your turn to do the questioning.

mydei tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering behind his golden eyes. "you're bold for someone who was just gasping for breath on the ground."

you crossed your arms, ignoring the lingering ache in your limbs. "and you're avoiding the question."

he let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no warmth in it. "fine," he said, stepping back just enough to put a measured distance between you. "mydeimos. i’ve been fighting the black tide longer than you’ve been writing that little paper of yours."

his eyes flicked toward the ruined horizon, scanning the shifting shadows with the ease of someone who knew this battlefield all too well. “this kingdom—what’s left of it—was mine once.”

your breath hitched. his?

the two of you began to learn more about each other as he brought you back to his throne. it was an unexpected friendship(?) but you were gaining many useful facts for your paper.

the history of this place goes further back than you could imagine.

you even learned more about the famous chrysos heirs you heard about in passing. you eagerly had him tell all his stories about them, making sure not to miss a detail.

it went on like this for a few days; he would fight off the black tide and answer your many questions.

there was a shift, though, when he came back from a battle to you packing your notes.

mydei paused in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he watched you gather your things. the usual calm demeanor he carried in battle seemed absent now, replaced with something colder, more intense.

"you're leaving," he said flatly, his voice carrying a trace of something you couldn’t quite place—was it annoyance?

you froze, your hands stilling mid-motion as you turned to face him. "i—" you started, but the words felt tangled in your throat.

"i’m almost finished with my research," you admitted, avoiding his gaze as you zipped up your bag. "i can’t stay here forever, especially with the black tide still lingering."

truthfully, mydei had grown quite attached to you. he hasn't had contact with another person for weeks before you came along; and for you to just leave so quickly?

no, he couldn't have that.

he muttered, almost to himself, his voice lowering as he looked away, briefly losing his composure. “no one... no one’s cared to come this far. you...” he paused, and when his eyes met yours again, they were heavy with something you hadn’t expected. “you’re not leaving.”

you took a step back, your breath shaky as mydei’s intense stare bore into you.

“mydei—” you started, but the words faltered on your lips. you wanted to argue, to tell him that you had your own life to get back to, your own reasons for leaving. but the weight of his presence—his intensity—made you hesitate.

he stepped forward, his hand snaking out to grab your wrist with an iron grip, pulling you closer to him in a way that left no room for resistance. "you're not walking out on me," he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

“you came into my life at the worst possible time,” he said, his voice softer, yet thick with something you couldn’t quite name. "you walked into this kingdom, into my mess, and for a second, it felt like... like maybe i wasn’t as alone as i thought."

you realized the black tide was already getting to him, just not in the way it would most.

phainon `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

"you look absolutely gorgeous in the sun. though, i wonder, must you enjoy it without me?"

this was your third day walking out from phainon's grasp.

"why do you insist on following me?" you asked, keeping your voice steady as you continued walking, pretending as though his words hadn’t made your heart skip a beat.

you felt the weight of his gaze, the way it traced every curve of your form, making your skin tingle, making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t wanted.

phainon chuckled, the sound low and dark, a perfect match for the man he was. "follow you? darling, you belong to me. whether you like it or not."

he caught up with you quickly, his long strides making up for the distance you’d put between you. before you knew it, he was beside you, his presence as commanding as the sun itself.

"you think you can leave me so easily?" his voice was a whisper, just enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. you could feel his eyes on you, even though you refused to meet his gaze.

when you didn't answer, he took it as his sign to continue. "i do enjoy your confidence. you're just so perfect. you must like the chase as much as i. is that what it is, [name]?"

phainon placed a hand over his heart as he felt his face flush.

you felt a flicker of anger surge through you, though it quickly turned to frustration. "this isn't a game," you said, trying to bite back the heat in your voice. "you don’t get to decide what i do, phainon."

phainon’s hand placed itself over his chest again, but this time, it wasn’t just for show. his fingers curled against the fabric, almost as though he was holding back something deeper. "i feel it every time you try to leave me. every step you take away from me."

his voice dropped, smooth and low, like a promise or a threat. "and the more you try to run, the more I want to keep you close."

"you're insane." you couldn't hold back the venom in your voice.

"i'd like to think of it more as being in love." phainon's hand gently took yours, holding you in place.

he kneeled in front of you, bringing your hand to his lips.

his lips lingered on your skin, tracing along the tips of your fingers, sending a shiver through you that you couldn’t ignore. "so go ahead," he whispered, leaning in close, his breath brushing against your hand. "run again. i’ll let you. but just know... i’ll find you."

phainon rose to his feet, still holding your hand gently but firmly, his grip a reminder of the inescapable pull that seemed to draw you to him. "you don't have to make this harder than it needs to be," he murmured, the teasing edge gone from his tone, replaced by something more serious. "i just want you to understand... i will never let you go."

phainon was quick to shift his personality back to easygoing. "you've been out here long enough; care to join me for a bath?"

you knew there was no changing his mind. "...could we get something to eat after?"

phainon’s smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as if he had already won some unspoken victory. "of course," he said smoothly. "i can even bathe and feed you. you must be tired after such a long day."

the familiar blush crept up his face, one he didn't care to hide. just the thought of being able to touch your body and be that close to your lips was exhilarating.

i loved writing mydei's, i might have to make another scenario with it 🤔🤔

[turtletoria]

🕊️ In this month of pride, I hope we also remember that true pride can sometimes mean survival - holding onto love, protecting the vulnerable, and staying a parent in a war that consumes everything.

While we celebrate pride, love, and courage this month, as queer people we should remember that we are free only when ALL of us are free and we should be doing what we can to free Palestine.

This includes supporting those directly affected by the genocide in Gaza, like my friend Ahmed and his family:

He is a humble man from northern Gaza, an accountant by profession, who is now living through one of the hardest tragedies a father can endure. Ahmed isn’t an activist, nor is he asking for the impossible. He’s simply a father of four, trying to keep his children alive.

Today, his baby girl Ronza turns one.

Yes, today is her birthday. One full year of life — a year filled not with laughter, but with the sound of drones, the smell of tents, the absence of baby formula, a lack of medicine, and her mother’s silent tears every night.

Ronza is suffering from malnutrition because the borders are closed, aid is being looted, and there is no milk, no diapers, not even a safe place to sleep. Ahmed cannot leave Gaza, and he can no longer afford food. Yet, he hasn't lost his humanity, his dignity, or his love for his children.

🎂 Happy Birthday, little Ronza — a beautiful soul who deserves to celebrate like every child in this world.

And to you reading this: you have a choice — to simply witness, or to be someone who makes a difference.

Vetted campaign | Gazavetters #213 | nabulsi and el-shab-hussein spreadsheet #264

[blade-liger-4ever]

Why I think Miko Nakadai is arguably the best human character in TFP

Don't misunderstand, I know Miko was handled haphazardly throughout the series' run. That said, aside from her skipping off into the battlefield, she was actually a great character - and, in my personal opinion, the actual audience surrogate character in TFP.

Now, let me explain.

Although Miko's backstory is told and not shown - a rich daughter who had everything she could ever want, up to and including two pure-breed cats and piano lessons from age three onwards (which, coincidentally, tells us she's brainy despite her antics) - much can be inferred from what snippets of her past we get, along with her interactions with the Autobots. For one, she obviously can't stand most adult supervision, which is likely because of a few things. For one, back home in Japan, Miko would have had to be proper and polite, always restrained, and had to do what she was told. While this is normal (to an extent) in the West, in the East this is etiquette that needs to be obeyed, especially if you're as well off as she is; her actions, specifically in Japan, will reflect on her parents, but to a far lesser extent in America. Thus, when presented with the freedoms of the USA, Miko not only jumps at the chance for an exchange program that will give her the mobility she craves, she also chooses the place that has the least amount of glamor. By extension of choosing to settle in Jasper, Miko's also displaying two other traits: she's not afraid of going to a place vastly different from her home, and she isn't disgusted by a small town with very little monetary value to it.

Secondly, Miko's disregard for authority from adults but deference to the 'Bots teases us with an insecurity - namely, an insecurity that no adult ever gives her a chance to make her own decisions.

Just think about it: All the times Miko's blown off the human adults, it's when they've tried to decide her life for her. Miko has, from what we can see, had her whole life dictated, up to and including those piano lessons. She may be a prodigy at almost everything, but her preferred instrument is the guitar - and yet, she wasn't given lessons in that from the time she was a toddler. Therefore, she feels confined and controlled by the authority of her elders. And so, while Miko may be able to sway Bulkhead into getting her out of detention and consistently slip past the watchful eyes of the 'Bots, it's out of a desperate motivation to control her own life. Now, she does hold too much interest in the battles and getting to watch them, but wouldn't you have that same eagerness if Gundams or Jaegers came to life before your eyes? Yes, she knows their lives are in danger, that they couldn't come home, but there's still a fantastical element to all of this about the Autobots. And it remains so because while she loves them all, Bulkhead is the only one who, while giving her life advice and trying to keep her in check/alive, lets her make her own decisions and take control of her life and her actions.

And that's why she keeps going to the field. That's why she only listens to the reprimands with half an ear and why she recovers so fast from Optimus' near death experiences, as well as Raf's close call with death.

And that's why Miko's world shatters when Bulkhead is left in a half-dead coma from his fight with Hardshell. Because the one person in the universe who gave her freedom and care without deciding her life for her was not just seriously injured, but possibly on death's door.

That's why Miko runs around without a care until the S2 episode "Hurt": because she wants autonomy to decide her life, even if it's stupid choices that could get her killed.

And after "Hurt", we see a new Miko. Yes, she remains gung-ho and fierce, but she stops running onto the battlefield. She takes less enjoyment from the War. Because now, with the reality of war fresh in her mind, she knows the risks and the stakes involved, and she will never take that or her friends for granted anymore. This is further proved when Miko 'sneaks' along for "Chain of Command", but with a twist: she asks Wheeljack if she can come along - and if memory serves, this is the first mission Bulkhead's been on with herself present since the events before "Hurt". Clearly, Miko is still worried about losing Bulkhead - only, this time, she values the words of the 'Bots, and now seeks permission to join a mission, though she wisely asks Wheeljack for this blessing.

This is the beautiful part of her arc, crowned by her battle with Starscream and his Seekers (which is also just straight up awesome.) When she's kicked the afts of everyone, and Starscream tries to intimidate her with his usual "I killed Cliffjumper" speech, Miko's response is this calm, slightly rough, retort:

"Big whoop. I snuffed Hardshell."

In this moment, Miko Nakadai is shown to have grown from an excitable child into an unyielding, but mature, adult warrior. She no longer treats the War and the 'Bots like a game, or a release. She treats them as her friends who she will gladly risk her own life for.

And that, in my opinion, makes her the best human protagonist in all of Transformers: Prime, and Transformers media in general.

As for what I said earlier about her being the true audience surrogate, be honest with yourselves: If any of us were given the chance to meet the Autobots, wouldn't you be just as irrepressible as Miko, as eager to help as she was, and tempted to go to the battlefield to see the action/make sure your 'Bot wasn't going to die? That's what I mean when I say she's the audience surrogate - Miko acts like we would, and learns as we would about the War and the 'Bots if we suddenly came across them.

That's my two cents on Miko, and why she's the human character I respect the most in Transformers...probably of all time. If you liked it, I'm glad; Miko deserves better, and I hope I explained why well.

Til next time, folks!

"Autobots, transform!"

[nor-and-family]

*Have you ever tried sleeping in a tent?*

Have you ever lost everything in your life?

I wish I could tell anyone who says, "We feel for you," to truly experience the following:

Feel what it's like to sleep in a tent.

Or forget the tent—sleep in a single small room with *10 people* , half of them children.

That room is the changing room, the dining room, the bedroom, the living room, and the kitchen.

Sometimes, we even bathe the children in the same room.

There’s no privacy—just forget about it.

You don’t even get the chance to be alone in a room to change your clothes.

Yes, really. Change your clothes in front of everyone, then tell me how much you "feel for us."

Come and stand in line for the bathroom, especially in the morning—ten, twenty people ahead of you, ten, twenty behind.

When it’s finally your turn, hurry up—you can only do *one thing* .

Just one.

Use the bathroom, wash your face properly, or brush your teeth.

And believe me, you’ll save time if you go in with someone else and take turns, because guess what? *Privacy doesn’t exist.*

Oh, and wait—the bathroom usually has no water.

Figure it out inside.

Then come and tell me how much you "feel for us."

Try craving a meal—no matter how simple.

Or better yet, imagine your children asking you for a basic meal: a piece of bread, an egg, an apple.

And you *can’t* get it for them.

You *can’t* buy it even if you had all the money in the world, because money has lost its value.

You *can’t* buy it because you *don’t* have money.

You *can’t* buy it because there’s *nothing left to buy* .

Go months without fulfilling a craving. Then tell me how much you "feel for us."

Try sleeping in the same clothes, waking up in the same clothes, going out in the same clothes, eating in the same clothes—doing *everything* in the same clothes.

Why? Because *you’re lucky* if you have two sets of clothes.

And even luckier if you can afford new ones.

And if you do buy something, you’ll buy *children’s clothes for your daughter* , *men’s clothes for your wife* —because survival matters more than anything else.

Try freezing in the cold because you don’t have winter clothes, because you *can’t* find winter clothes. Then come and tell me how much you "feel for us."

Have you ever had your wife *pregnant during war* ?

Do you know what it’s like when she has to *give birth in the middle of the night or under bombing* ?

Try *taking your pregnant wife outside* .

Try *being pregnant during war* .

How does it feel?

Did you know that mothers have *lost their ability to produce milk* due to stress and lack of food?

Have you ever had a baby *born in a bathroom, a car, a street, or a tent* ?

Imagine if it were your *firstborn* .

Try *not finding a single outfit* for your newborn.

Try *not having diapers* .

Try *wrapping your newborn in a mattress cover or a prayer shawl* because you don’t even have a proper blanket.

Then tell me how much you "feel for us."

Have you ever *needed medicine but couldn’t find it* ?

@amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @aristotels @komsomolka @prisonhannibal @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @determinate-negation @deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @rooh-afza @knownoshamc @the-awkward-reblobber @soft-sunbird @cockworkangels @dannyketch @cramenjoyer @oreobunn @fireyfobbitmedicine @muminshoom @thedigitalbard @timogsilangan @tboynut @wildfeather5002 @fancy-feast-official @honeytonedhottie @cheloneuniverse @roseillith @thelastharbinger @lady-shadow-and-darkness @lemke6669 @hello-from-the-night-archives @stalinistqueens @sar-soor @1tsny4nc4t @fairycandles @girlinafairytale-blog @cheaperimint @afro-elf @animentality

[astraystayyh]

Israel doesn't want to repopulate Gaza, you loveable dummy

Seriously, find one Israeli on this site who'll say otherwise. And no, quoting Ben Gvir doesn't count (assuming you even know who that is) anymore than quoting, say, Rudy Giuliani would count for anything, even though he supposedly spoke for the president of the USA for a time.

Hamas has 136 hostages. Including women, and actual literal babies, assuming they're still alive, that is. This could all have ended weeks ago if they'd fucking returned them. Israeli society would physically march on Benjamin Netanyahu's home and remove him in a coup if the hostages were returned tonight. But as long as they have Israeli people, and are unwilling to negotiate their return, that's an ongoing war crime. Is Israel evil for being a bull in a China shop trying to get back a "mere" 136 innocent civilians? Maybe. But Hamas started this and they can end it, they just don't want to. Please, justify that.

Hello, since you asked for one Israeli, here, I'll give you multiple statements:

Hundreds of activists at an Ashdod gathering in late November called for the reestablishing of Jewish settlements. “Let it be known that you support the appeal to renew Jewish settlement throughout all of the Gaza Strip. The nation is waiting for you”— Yossi Dagan, head of the Samaria Regional Council.

Israel “should fully occupy the Gaza Strip”— Heritage Minister Amichai Eliyahu, of the far-right Otzma Yehudit party.

An Israeli real estate firm pushes to build settlements for Israelis in Gaza. “Wake up, a beach house is not a dream” reads the ad.

Israeli Knesset member Limor Son Har Melech posted a video of herself in a boat with other settlers off the coast of Gaza. “Settlement in every part of the Gaza Strip … A large, extensive settlement without fear, without hesitation, without humiliation. This land is the land that the creator of the world gave to us.”

Israeli Settler, Daniella Weiss says Palestinians who live in Gaza, have no right to stay in Gaza.

An Israeli soldier saying that Israelis should start “investing” in Khan Younis.

Also why would the words of Ben Gvir not count? He is an elected minister, his words hold weight and they expose Israel’s clear intent to make Gaza inhabitable for Palestinians so that Israelis could settle in there— by destroying the infrastructures, making the health system collapse entirely, bombing entire residential neighborhood, Israel is trying to ensure that Palestinians wouldn't be able to return back to their land, because there is nothing livable left there.

And I'm glad you bring up all of this ending if the hostages were returned— Hamas tried to strike up a deal for the return of ALL the hostages, in exchange of the release of all Palestinian prisoners. Israel refused. You know why? Because this has never been about hostages and their safety for Israel.

There is a reason why Israel shot its own hostages when it mistook them for Palestinian civilians, waving a white cloth. There is a reason why the IDF called to shoot indiscriminately on Oct. 7, knowing that it could kill some of the hostages too. Because Israel wants to kill Palestinians, to "thin out its population" (or maybe we shouldn't take into account the says and actions of Netanyahu too ://). This is why it targets schools and mosques and hospitals and ambulances and refugee camps. Israel knows that if it does get all its hostages back, then there would be nothing to “justify” its genocide in Gaza (although, as UN Secretary-General said : "Nothing can justify the collective punishment of the Palestinian people. The humanitarian situation in Gaza is beyond words")

Israel is the only reason why the hostages aren't fred yet. THEY are unwilling to negotiate the return because they don't want to stop this genocide. What good is a five days ceasefire only for the bombings to return? Do you even realize how psychologically traumatizing it is to have a countdown of when your massacre would resume? The only acceptable deal is for Israel to establish a permanent ceasefire, something that it refuses to do. The only one to blame is Israel.

And you say Israelis would instigate a coup to oust Netanyahu, that's nice, then what? Will you return the land to its rightful people? Will you give back Palestinians their rights unequivocally? Will you call for the dismantlement of Israel that was built on massacres? The reason why Israelis are angry at Netanyahu is rooted in the unresolved hostage situation. Just because you don't support Netanyahu doesn't mean that you aren't a zionist who finds the murder of more than twenty thousands Palestinians justifiable. A young girl had her leg amputated with no anesthesia on the kitchen counter of her home and you talk about “Israel being a bull in a China shop”? You consider the targeted attacks on civilians as careless actions by Israel? It actually astonishes me how inhumane some of you can be.

And here is what Dr. Refaat, who was targeted and murdered by the IDF btw, had to say about this matter:

Whether it's Netanyahu or someone else, it does not matter because Israel as a whole is an occupation, one built on the bloodshed of palestinians.

And it is funny how you choose to distort history whichever way you like it, to regard October 7th as an isolated instance that happened out of the blue. Hamas didn't start anything, Hamas was created in response to the indiscriminate and careless shooting of palestinian civilians in the first Intifada, that was decades ago. October 7th was a resistance to an ongoing colonization, Israel started this when it displaced and murdered palestinians on 1948. None of this would've happened if Israel did not colonize Palestine. It has been 100 days of this ongoing genocide, wake up and stop deluding yourself into a reality where Israel is the victim.

[tiny-space-platypus]

Ok so it's like 3am and I can only think of DC/DP but dimensional warfare. Like the GIW have been fucking with the dead so much, messing with Danny so much, that he decides fuck it we ball. If I become Danny do fucking be it.

Like Danny has tried to be good. He had tried desperately to be good since he was 14,since he died. Like he wasn't really a kid after that. He had tried to get help from the JL but his pleas were ignored, he tried to tell them about the GIW, he tried to tell them about the anti-ecto laws but he got nothing.

Now he was older, now he was bitter, now they had taken his children. Now was time for war. It was easy, so easy that it was uncomfortable for him. Killing shouldn't be so easy but humans were so fragile. He let ghosts and demons and anything else run wild, he had every city spirit cause their worse. He sent a message to the world before causing a world wide black out.

"I have let you mess with the dead. I have protected you from the dead. I have protected you from future and from yourselves. Yet you decide to take my children. You take the spawn of the king of the Infinite Realms and expect no consequences. This is a declaration of war long overdue. Prepare yourself living realms, your days are limited. I will either find my children or you will return them to me. Till then in joy your blackout."

And with that earth was plunged into the darkness of night. As the monsters that haven't terrorized the earth in millennia roam without a care.

JL and JLD are freaking the fuck out. Trying to prevent as much chaos as possible. They had to find those kids they had to play diplomate to an angry god or send the flash back before this to hopefully fix this. They had to fix this.

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

I was wondering if you could do a batfam x isekaid neglected fem reader. I only read one so far and I NEED more 😔👉👈

I love this ask !! Been wanting to write one :D

summary :reader comes from a post - apolyptic world where mankind was wiped out due to nuclear warfare and deadly disease . suddenly she is awaken in a world where humanity is thriving yet this weird family behaves so strangely toward her??

I coughed my lungs out - it's been exactly 498 days since my lungs have tasted oxygen . My restless body trudge on - I keep moving - keep moving despite the sore blisters on my feet that pulse and bleed with every step I take.

I don't know where I am - I don't even know if there's anywhere to go anymore - all there is is ash and yellowish fog that cover the land as far as the eye can see. I groan - throwing up bile - I grimaced as my body wasted water so unnecessary .

I was like an ordinary kid - I went to school and came home one day to a news reporter saying there was no school for two weeks - I was so blissful - no more tests for me ! Oh how much I wish to go back - those two weeks were the dawn of a nightmarish hell.

A sudden infection began spreading rapidly on a international scaling and due to poor government decisions - it continued developing , our population began depleting and there was no cure left .

Governments argued back and forth , the people rioting, and sooner than later, the world we knew fell apart . Suddenly there was no more electricity, no more running water and few surviors began to worry.

I remember vividly - ma and pa hugging me before departing with the elders to the nearest cell tower miles away in an attempt to reconnect with humanity. It was on that God awful day - I witnessed a giant flare descend into the blue skies of Alaska and touched down onto the distant cell tower with a loud explosion .

The explosion engulfed everything in its fuery, and what it hadn't burnt it had blown away and covered the skies in a perment yellow fog.I remember screaming , crying out their names helplessly I waited at that abandoned shelter for months - naively awaiting their arrival, but they never came.

Helpless , I was forced to move on without them . Now, as I trudge through ash and fog , I feel my legs give away beneath me, and I feel myself come crashing down onto the ashy floor . I choke and helplessly bang against the ground as a war cry escaped me .

No ! NO - I refuse to end it like this - I refuse to go like this - not when I haven't figured out what happened to my ma and pa - not now . I feel my lungs closing in on me as if someone has grown tired of this chapter and decided to cut the story shut.

I greedily inhaled like a drowning man , my lungs give way, and it's then my eyes flutter close for the last time.

Name awakes - her eyes met by blinding light . Immediately, she closes her eyes - her head throbs in retaliation, and she groans as she curls herself into a fetous position - a pathetic attempt to shield herself.

A long sullen moment passes before name finally grasps the situation she is in - she is alive - when she shouldn't have been . She jolts from the bed - eyes frantically as she intakes her surroundings. Her room is a luscious rich blue - it has dark oak furniture that definitely screams money .

This is not her room - not even remotely - she distinctly remembers her old room having soft pink walls filled with posters of all her nerdy things but here - this room is too dull - to void of anyone living in it.

A knock is heard on the door and name watches in horror as the knob turns , the door opens to reveal an elder male in a tux ? Name is taken aback - exactly where is she ?.

"Master Name, you missed breakfast, so I brought it for you " . Name tilts her head in confusion . Why would anyone miss food ? Food is something sarce and critical- it's precious and it's not meant to be wasted - whoever body this is surely was stupid.

Name nods her head . " Thank you ...." She trails off, realizing she doesn't know who he is whatsoever. The elderly man raises an eyebrow at her , " Alfred madam," he finishes. Name nods - taking that name to memory . " Thank you Mister Alfred," she thanks as she graciously accepts the food. Alfred excuses himself - leaving her to her own devices .

Name hops off her poster bed and waddled her way to the nearest window and sure enough the outside world looks that of her own before the incident - before life ficked everyone over and took ma and pa away from her.

Silent tears roll down her face , hands scrunched against the window sill tightly- she swore she would reunite with them no matter what. After staring into the neighboring houses for a long minute , name returns to her bed and shovels the scrambled eggs in her mouth.

Name no longer questions if her food is poison, slat on or cursed - after all food is food - it is a blessed and sacred resource that she will happily indulge in. Moments pass before her door is barge open again - this time so loud it collides with the door harshly, almost snapoingbit in half.

An angry child ? She assumes storms up to her , face red . " Name how dare you skip out on breakfast do you think k of yourself above us all ?" The child accuses her , pointing his sword at her.

Name immediately kicks him , square in the chest - sending the boy clashing into the expensive hairdresser . Name states at him and then her foot eye wide - it's only natural her body reacts that way - it's how any wounded animal would if threaten .

So why does this bratty child look so disturbed ? Suprised ? The child begins screaming his head off and another adult walks in and embraces him. Name feels herself choke up - how can anyone possibly get so close to another without risking catching the disease ?

Name holds her stance - clearly, these people are psychos and have no regard to anyone’s safety . " Name how dare you kick him he's just a child" the adult ? Starts berating you but you held your fork in front of you - tightening your grasps around it .

"Leave or I will impale you with this" name threatens darkly - leaving no room for hesitancy - only confirmation of their damnation if they dared to cross her . The adult states in her eye wide and opens his mouth, but you are quicker . You swiftly leaped from your bed and launched the fork at the adult full speed , ensuring you rolled the opposite way .

The adult barely dodges. " Name what the fuck-" They curse but you were already out the door. You had to get away from these psychos they're too loose - they're too idiotic.

Name is halfway out a door when a much older man grabs her by the shoulder and spins her around . Name stares at him - all she feels is the dread building inside her akin to the time the dread she felt when she witnessed her parents' demise. Whoever it is grabs her by the shoulders harshly and puts his face in front of hers - immediately making her feel small . The elderly man glares at her before demanding her , " Name exactly what do you think you're doing ?"

please like + share + comment !!!

sorry if this is short this was written at 1 am

[a-hermit-pining]

LaDS Men Reaction to You as a Parent

AN: I miss my mom 😭 I love her so much. She's sooooo precious.

Pairing: LaDS boys x fem reader

Genre: Hurt and comfort

Ingredients: 90% comfort, 10% angst

My Fav: Caleb and Xavier

Xavier:

He knows the look. The way your hands fuss with the curtains long after sunset, how you peer out the window like the past might knock and ask to be let in. You’re restless.

He doesn’t say anything, he never does. Just watches you pace. Waiting for the triplets. Kassandra, Reagan, and Pam. Twenty-somethings now, but still your babies. You count the days until they return like a soldier marking calendar walls.

And tonight, like clockwork, you turn to him with that same eager light in your eyes. “Shall we sit outside in the yard? Get the firepit going? I got their favorite sweet potatoes.” You tug on his hand like you’re twenty again. “Let’s go, honey. Please?”

He’s already moving. The shawl is in his hands before you finish the sentence. He drapes it over your shoulders, presses a kiss to your temple, and follows you out without another word.

You sit in the yard together, hand in hand, listening for laughter that hasn’t arrived yet. But it will. It always does.

He doesn't need to say it aloud, but in his silence, you’ll always hear it: Watching you love them like this… it makes him love you more.

Rafayel:

You always wanted a quiet life. He remembers how you laughed the first time he said he’d give it to you. “Quiet’s not in your blood,” you teased.

But when Alaric was born, your son with his lungs and your fragile heart, you changed. Or maybe you returned to something truer.

You gave up the Hunter’s Association. The title. The power. You traded it all for hospital chairs, medical journals, and the quiet war of waiting rooms. And he watched you, time and time again, fold yourself into the margins of your son's life just to keep him breathing.

Not once did you ask why this happened. You only asked how to help.

Now Alaric sits in your old chair at the Association. Heart full, future wide. And Rafayel sees it every time you look at him, that flicker of disbelief. Like you still can’t believe you won.

And maybe that's what he admires most about you: you never stopped being a fighter, you just learned how to fight for something smaller, and infinitely more precious.

Zayne:

He sees it before you even speak.

The way your hand hovers above the table, over that one plate you always used to set first. The way your fingers curl in, then pull away, like grief lives in your bones now, like it whispers, not yet, not this time.

Aching to reach for the daughter who slammed close the door to her room. Leaving the dinner untouched.

You never ate without her. Not once. Not since the day she was born. Feeding her was your love language. Her plate was always first, always warm, always right. And now you sit across from him with a smile stretched too tight and a silence that doesn’t quite settle.

“I forgot dessert,” you say, too fast. “We should have something sweet. For your promotion.”

He doesn’t move right away. Just watches you walk to the kitchen, not like you’re hungry, but like you’re searching. Like if you just bake the right thing, if you get it just right, maybe the world will tilt back into place.

Zayne stands and follows, reaching for your hand before you disappear again. His thumb traces the ridge of your knuckles, soft and trembling.

“She’s not mad at you,” he murmurs, eyes steady on yours. “You did nothing wrong. She loves you.”

You blink, and your tears fall quiet, like they always do. Witnessing a drifting relationship once so cherished.

And he thinks, if loving someone is a sacred act, then parenting is its own kind of worship. And grief… grief is the altar where that worship never ends.

Sylus:

You left.

You loved him, but your love for your children outweighed it. And when he wouldn't stop, wouldn't turn his back on the life that had no room for them, you made the only choice you could.

You walked away. From him. From the danger. From the man who clung too tightly to a throne of blood, head of Onichynus, feared in every shadowed corner, yet too much a coward to surrender his power for peace.

You left behind divorce papers, and all the love you once carried.

Because you knew: it would only take one more threat. One wrong name whispered. One misplaced vendetta. And your children would pay the price.

He hated you for it. Said you turned them against him. Blamed the caution in their eyes, the distance in their hugs, on you.

But the truth is, he forgot. Forgot why he found you in the first place. Forgot the lifetimes that led him to your door. Forgot that everything good in him only ever came alive when you looked at him like he could be more.

Now it breaks him, not just that you left, but that you were right to. That you were strong enough to put your children first.

And that he was the reason you had to do it alone.

Caleb: (trans fem child)

He stood in the hallway, unseen. The morning light poured in through the half-open door, catching on your hands as you worked, parting strands of hair with steady, practiced care.

Fifteen years. He’s known her every day of them. His kid. Your kid. Raised together. Held through scraped knees and whispered nightmares. But today, today was different.

Today, you saw her.

Not the version the world forced on her. Not the shape they assigned. You saw her. And you didn’t hesitate. Didn’t freeze. Didn’t look to him for direction. You just met her where she was, as if you’d been waiting to do it since the day she arrived.

"Do you feel bonita?" you asked, voice soft and warm, teasing just enough to draw out that flicker of a smile. He watches her shoulders drop, just slightly. A breath let go. A bit of armor lowered.

She nods. Doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t need to. In that moment, she is safe. She is known.

And Caleb, Caleb feels something sharp crack and re-form inside his chest. Something quiet. Old. Holy.

Because you didn’t treat this like some revelation. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t mourn what was never yours to grieve. You just braided her hair like it was the most obvious, natural thing in the world.

And gods, that’s what wrecks him. He’s spent his whole life trying to shield her from a world that doesn’t know how to see people like her.

But you? You didn’t just see her.

You recognized her.

And standing there in the hallway, fists clenched and heart full, Caleb thinks: There is no war he wouldn’t fight for this. For her. For you. For the quiet kind of love that makes people whole again.

[edenesth]

ATEEZ as Anime Leads

Pairing(s): anime lead!ateez x female!reader

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Y'all, I'm so sorry for going MIA for so long. As you may or may not already know, work has been wearing me down, and I just cannot find the energy to work on By Order of the Black Pirates at the moment, but here's a little something I managed to put together to make up for my prolonged absence for now. (Not tumblr labelling this as potentially mature content before I even posted it lol.)

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong ↠ Levi Ackerman (Attack on Titan)

A legend within the Survey Corps, Captain Hongjoong is ruthlessly efficient, intimidatingly skilled, and always ahead of his enemies. His squad respects him, fears him, and secretly admires the way he silently cares for them despite his harsh words. Off the battlefield, he's a perfectionist who despises messes but has a surprising appreciation for art and music (though he'd never admit it).

He's sharp, disciplined, and highly respected, commanding attention despite his height. But beneath the icy exterior lies a hidden soft spot—a long-time female comrade who's been fighting beside him for nearly as long as he's worn the Wings of Freedom: you. You understand his silences, steady him when the world feels too heavy, and are one of the few people who can challenge him without fear. You're his anchor—the reason he hasn't lost himself to the war.

Like him, you had once been cold and unforgiving, having lost everything—and everyone—you loved to the Titans. Grief turned to rage, and rage into resolve. You rose through the ranks not out of hope, but out of sheer will to survive and destroy what had destroyed you. And yet, somewhere between brutal training sessions and blood-soaked battles, a quiet bond formed between you and him. It was never loud or obvious—but in shared glances, covered flanks, and unspoken understanding, it was undeniable.

Even now, though nothing has ever been said aloud, your feelings for each other linger in the spaces between orders and footsteps, in the way his gaze lingers just a moment too long, or how your voice softens when speaking only to him. More than comrades. More than friends. Something steady. Something real.

He fights not just for victory, but for a world where his people—and you—can finally live freely. It's a dream he clings to more tightly than he'll ever admit.

But even dreams must be set aside when reality demands action.

The air was thick with shouts and smoke as the news spread like wildfire—Titans had breached within Wall Rose. Panic surged through the streets while soldiers scrambled into formation. At the heart of it all stood the Captain—unshaken, sharp, lethal in focus—barking orders with steely precision, coordinating with the Military Police, the Garrison, and scattered Scout units to hold the defence line. His voice was calm, but his eyes never stopped moving—scanning, calculating, already thinking three steps ahead.

Then came the second report. The Royal Family was still within the inner district. Vulnerable. Exposed.

You didn't wait. You tightened your gear with practised hands, stepping forward without hesitation. "I'll protect the Royal Family. You focus on the defence," you said, your voice steady, your gaze locked with his.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Hongjoong hesitated.

His hand shot out, curling gently around your wrist. Not to stop you, but to hold you. A plea lingered there, unspoken. His sharp, storm-hardened eyes locked onto yours, and in them was a flicker of something rare—fear. Not for the city. For you.

"We can do it together," he said softly, but his voice lacked its usual command. It sounded almost… vulnerable.

In that fleeting moment, a thousand words passed between you. All the years spent side by side. Every mission, every loss, every quiet glance when words failed. You reached over with your free hand and rubbed your thumb gently over his skin, a simple, grounding gesture—one that somehow spoke louder than anything you could've said.

"I'll be okay, Joong," you assured him, gently. "This is what we've been training for."

And something in him shifted.

Because in that moment, Hongjoong realised that what scared him more than losing the battle… was losing you. But he let you go slowly, reluctantly. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to trust you, just as you'd always trusted him.

"Stay alive. That's an order," he said, slipping on the stoic expression you knew so well—one you'd always admired, even if you could see the storm brewing behind it.

You smirked. "I will, Cap. After all, it's my turn for cleaning duties next, right? Wouldn't dare miss it for the world."

As you vanished across the rooftops, racing toward the inner gates, he didn't call after you. He didn't try to stop you. But his eyes followed your silhouette until it disappeared into smoke and sky.

And for the rest of that long, brutal day—through blood, through fire, through crumbling walls and falling Titans—he fought not just for Wall Rose's survival… but for yours.

And somewhere deep within, a vow was made: Whatever it took, he would make sure you came back. Because the world he was fighting for meant nothing without you in it.

Seonghwa ↠ Miyamura Izumi (Horimiya)

By day, Seonghwa is the quiet, polite, and well-mannered student—the kind others admire from a distance but rarely approach. But behind that calm exterior is a side he shows only to those closest to him: a cool, rebellious heart with quiet fire. With his hidden piercings, long hair, and effortless confidence, he's full of surprises—but the biggest surprise, even to him, is you.

You, his girlfriend. You, whom he once believed was far beyond his reach. He used to admire you in passing, quietly captivated by your determination, your strength, and the way you carried your heavy responsibilities without ever faltering. Back then, he never imagined you'd even notice him, let alone choose him.

And yet, here you are—his, and only his.

Around you, he softens in ways no one else gets to see. He makes bento lunches just the way you like, hugs you from behind without a word when he knows you're tired, and leaves thoughtful little gifts or notes in your bag—quiet reminders that you're always on his mind. He doesn't always speak his feelings out loud, but when he does, his words land with precision and sincerity, like an arrow to the heart.

…A soft heart wrapped in ink and silver—a contradiction only you get to understand.

Even now, sometimes, he still couldn't quite believe it. That someone like you—so bright, so admired, so far from the quiet corner he once kept to himself—had chosen him.

He remembered the first time he truly saw you, not the flawless girl everyone admired from afar, but the real you. Barefoot in oversized clothes, hair tied up messily, gently scolding your little brother as you wiped a nosebleed from his face. Seonghwa had only meant to walk the kid home after a minor scuffle, but instead, he found himself standing awkwardly in your living room, watching as you moved about—washing dishes, sweeping the floor, smiling in a way that felt… unguarded. Unfiltered. Real.

You, the top student. The girl everyone thought had it all together. And him, the quiet loner with piercings and tattoos no one saw under his uniform, always by the window, always apart.

But in that moment, something shifted. The distance between your worlds blurred. And instead of turning away, you chose to let each other in. You kept each other's secrets.

And he kept coming back—not because of obligation, but because of the comfort he found in your brother's cartoons, your overly salty popcorn, and your presence.

One visit became two. Then three. Then too many to count.

Through shared silences, quiet laughter, whispered confessions, and more than a few chaotic turns… here you were. His.

The memory drew a soft, almost dreamy smile to Seonghwa's lips.

Still drifting somewhere between thought and the warmth of the present, he instinctively tightened his hold around you. His eyes roamed over your peaceful face—your lashes fanned gently against your cheeks, lips parted ever so slightly, your breathing slow and steady in rhythm with his own. Your head rose and fell lightly on his chest, your body curled perfectly against his side, as if you were made to fit there.

These quiet afternoons, tucked beneath soft blankets after a long school day, had become his favourite part of the day. Moments like this, where time felt suspended—just you, him, and the quiet hum of comfort in the space you'd built together.

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to your forehead, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo, the warmth of your skin. And still, even now, a part of him couldn't quite believe it. That you were real. That you were his.

He could stay like this forever.

His heart fluttered when you shifted closer, still half-asleep, your lips brushing lightly against the curve of his neck. He bit his lip, fighting the urge to smile like a lovesick fool, and gently tugged the blanket higher to shield you from the world a little longer.

Just a little longer— "Hyung! You've slept long enough! Come play with me!"

Seonghwa stiffened, eyes widening in quiet panic as your little brother's voice echoed through the hallway, followed by the soft creak of your bedroom door swinging open. He turned toward the sound, only to see the boy peeking in, scanning the room to check if you were awake.

"Shh! You'll wake your sister—" he began to whisper, but it was already too late.

You stirred with a sleepy groan, nose scrunching as your hand landed lazily on your boyfriend's chest. "Just go, Hwa," you mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "Or he won't leave us alone."

He let out a quiet laugh, his palm moving soothingly along your back. "Alright, baby," he said softly, beginning to shift.

But just as he started to rise, your fingers curled around his, holding him back. Still half-asleep, you mumbled under your breath—just loud enough for him to hear, "Just remember… you'll have to make it up to me later."

Heat rushed to his cheeks. His ears flushed pink as he looked down at you with a flustered grin, heart flipping at how effortlessly you made him fall all over again.

"I will," he whispered, squeezing your hand in return. And in his mind, he was already counting the minutes.

Yunho ↠ Suoh Tamaki (Ouran High School Host Club)

As the king of the Ouran Host Club, Yunho is charming, dramatic, and effortlessly lovable. He sweeps people off their feet with his playful nature and signature over-the-top romantic lines, always knowing just how to make someone feel special. But for as long as he could remember, it was all part of the act—attentive, courteous, and dazzling, because it was his job to be.

Until you.

The person he once thought was just an interesting addition to the club—someone bold, odd, and refreshingly unbothered by his theatrics—turned out to be so much more. He still remembers the day he discovered the truth, when the "boy" he'd thought he was mentoring turned out to be a girl with fire in her eyes and a heart just as chaotic and kind as his. At first, it shook him.

Then, it changed him.

Because falling for you wasn't dramatic. It was quiet, unexpected… real.

Now, his attention isn't something he switches on for guests. With you, it's effortless. Natural. Constant. He notices your moods before you say a word. He brings you your favourite tea without being asked. His flirtation, once a performance, becomes a tender language reserved only for you.

The boy who once cared so much about his reputation now finds himself caring only about your happiness.

He still fills a room with laughter, still makes a fool of himself just to lift others' spirits. But when he looks at you, there's no act. No audience. Just him and the girl who changed everything.

It was just another day at the Host Club, or at least that's what it looked like on the surface. Music Room 3 buzzed with its usual golden glow—teacups clinking, girls giggling, soft piano music floating through the air. Yunho smiled on cue, laughed in perfect timing, and delivered another outrageously corny pickup line with the same dazzling confidence that made him the club's beloved king.

But something was off.

He bit his lip behind another charming smile, careful not to let his internal unease show. His patrons swooned at every word, completely unaware that while he played the role flawlessly, his mind was elsewhere, searching.

His eyes swept across the room instinctively, scanning for one specific person. You weren't at your usual spot by the corner table arranging flowers, nor were you behind the curtain where you sometimes read during sessions. In fact… now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen you since this morning.

You'd greeted everyone in passing, your voice cheerful but quick—before slipping away during the chaos of setup. He hadn't even gotten his usual forehead kiss, the tiny daily ritual that kept him grounded more than he liked to admit.

Still, it was a full Friday. The club was at capacity, and Yunho knew he couldn't abandon his post just to chase after a hunch. So he smiled through the growing tightness in his chest, telling himself he'd find you the second this session ended.

But then—mid-sentence, his eyes flickered past his patron to the ceiling-high window behind her… and his heart dropped.

The sky outside had turned a murky slate grey, the glass streaked with raindrops. A flash of lightning blinked across the sky, followed by a low rumble that made the chandeliers tremble ever so slightly.

Crap.

His smile faltered just for a second, barely noticeable.

She's afraid of thunder.

"Would you ladies excuse me for just a moment?" Yunho said smoothly, flashing a disarming grin as he set down his teacup. "I've just remembered we're running low on the special blend. It wouldn't be right to serve you anything less than perfection, now would it?"

The girls giggled, nodding in agreement, utterly charmed. "Of course, King Yunho~!"

With one last practised wink, he turned on his heel and strode briskly away—his expression dropping the second his back was to them.

His heart pounded in his chest as he made his way out of the room and into the hallway, the soft sounds of the host club fading behind him. Guilt gnawed at him.

The skies had been gloomy since morning. Why hadn't he paid closer attention? You had barely spoken to anyone today, and he should've known. Had he been thinking, really thinking, he would've cancelled the entire session. No smiles, no rose petals, no silver trays—just him holding you close, whispering nonsense until the storm passed.

But he hadn't. And now you were nowhere to be seen.

He checked every possible spot—the storage cabinet, the back hallway, even the balcony where you sometimes went for air. Nothing.

"Come on, think," he muttered, brushing his hair back in frustration. Where would she go?

Then it hit him.

The changing room.

Just as another thunderclap cracked across the sky. He broke into a sprint, nearly sliding around the corner before throwing open the door to the old backstage changing room—dimly lit and quiet, the hum of the storm muffled by thick walls.

And there you were.

Curled into yourself in the corner, knees pulled tight to your chest, trembling beneath the soft folds of your cardigan. Your face was turned away, but he could see your shoulders trembling, your breathing uneven.

His heart clenched at the sight. He didn't call your name, didn't want to startle you. Instead, he stepped inside quietly, kneeling beside you with the gentlest touch to your arm. "Hey… It's me," he whispered, voice softer than it had been all day.

Your head turned slowly, eyes red-rimmed and glassy. "Yunho…?"

He gave a faint, guilty smile. "Yeah. I'm here. I'm so sorry—I should've noticed sooner."

Without waiting for a reply, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you tightly in his embrace. You didn't resist. You melted into him, burying your face into his chest as another low rumble rolled through the sky.

"I've got you," he murmured into your hair, pressing a kiss there like a silent vow. "I'm not going anywhere."

And this time, he meant it more than ever.

He held you close, his arms firm yet gentle, his heart still racing from the sprint—and from the guilt twisting inside him like a vice. "I'm sorry," he whispered into your hair, his voice cracking slightly. "I should've known. I should've been paying more attention to you today."

You shook your head from where you were tucked against his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pressed yourself even closer to him.

"This is why I didn't say anything," you muttered, your voice muffled but clear with emotion. "I know you, Yuyu. You would've thrown everything aside… and I didn't want to be selfish."

He let out a soft huff, cradling the back of your head as he kissed your temple, lingering there. "You have the right to be," he murmured.

You started to protest, "But those girls—"

But before you could finish, he tilted your chin up and silenced you with a kiss—gentle, warm, and firm, the kind that held both comfort and promise. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath soft against your lips. "They can wait," he whispered. "You're my only priority."

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let his words sink in, and for the first time all day, the storm outside didn't seem quite so loud. Because in his arms, you were safe.

And to him, you were everything.

Yeosang ↠ Tuxedo Mask (Sailor Moon)

By day, Yeosang is calm and enigmatic—every bit the poised gentleman who draws curious glances without trying. But by night, he becomes Tuxedo Mask, the elusive, rose-wielding guardian who appears just in time with quiet grace and unwavering resolve. His elegance and composure mask a heart full of silent emotion, a past steeped in forgotten promises and lost love.

Ever since regaining the memories of his past life, everything has changed.

The dreams, the visions—it all made sense. You were his Princess Serenity. The one he'd sworn to protect. The one he'd loved across lifetimes. And the one he'd unknowingly pushed away in this one, back when he was still lost in confusion, detached and cold.

The guilt haunted him—how he'd once kept you at a distance, not understanding the pull in his chest every time you looked his way. But now that he remembered, now that he knew who you were, he carried the weight of that regret every day.

And in its place bloomed a fierce, unwavering devotion.

Now, everything he does—every rose he throws, every enemy he faces in the shadows—is to shield you. To make up for lost time. To ensure that in this life, you'll never have to fight alone again.

Because to him, you weren't just someone he watched over.

You were his beginning, his end—his forever.

No matter how many times you insisted that you could handle yourself—and he knew you could—Yeosang couldn't bear the thought of standing idly by while you faced danger. Not anymore. Not after everything.

As much as he respected your strength and the unshakable bond you shared with your fellow Sailor Guardians, he was always nearby. Always in the shadows. Always protecting you, whether you asked him to or not.

Because what kind of man—what kind of Prince—would he be to let the woman he loved throw herself into danger without him at her side? Especially when he knew the truth better than anyone: that your powers resonated more fiercely, more beautifully, when you were together.

Your Sailor Crystals were tied, always meant to work in harmony.

And tonight was no exception—another night under a starless sky, another battle sparked by Queen Beryl's dark ambitions. As the darkness spread and your transformation light burst into the air, he was already moving. Already there.

Because he'd sworn long ago—across time, across lifetimes—he would always fight beside you.

The clash ignited like thunder through the streets, the Sailor Guardians surging forward in formation, your powers weaving together in a brilliant, unified force. Together, you pushed back the tide of shadow, cornering one of the evil queen's generals beneath the shattered remains of an old monument.

The battle was nearing its end.

Sparks of light clashed against crackling shadows in the ruined city square, and for a moment, it felt like victory was yours.

"We've got him!" Sailor Mars shouted, fire crackling at her fingertips. You stood at the front, tiara glinting under the moonlight, heart pounding with adrenaline and pride. "One final blast—together!" The Guardians prepared their strike, light surging in a vibrant crescendo.

But in that single heartbeat, just as your focus narrowed, a low chuckle slid from the battered general's lips.

Too late, you saw the glint of energy in his palm. A dagger of dark magic, hurled not at your teammates, not even in desperation to escape, but at you. Straight at your heart.

Your body locked in shock.

There wasn't enough time to summon your shield. You couldn't move.

But he did.

A blur of black and crimson. The whisper of a rose on the wind.

"No."

Yeosang.

He crashed into you just as the bolt struck, arms tightening protectively around you. The impact seared across his back, his coat burning at the edges—but you were safe, cushioned against his chest, wide-eyed as you realised what had happened.

He didn't even flinch. Only breathed out your name, shakily, as if making sure you were still here.

You clutched his coat, voice trembling, "Yeo…"

He glanced down at you, the pain in his eyes overshadowed by something deeper. "You didn't think I'd let anything touch you, did you?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but he pressed his forehead to yours. "Not again. Never again."

Behind him, the Guardians finished the final strike, the general disintegrating into dust.

But in that moment, the only thing you could see was him—your guardian, your prince, your Yeosang—holding you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered.

Because to him, you were.

San ↠ Nanami Kento (Jujutsu Kaisen)

In the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, San is calm, composed, and exudes pure authority. He prefers logic over recklessness, making him one of the most reliable fighters in battle. While he claims to hate overtime and unnecessary stress, he always ends up taking care of others, offering wise advice and silently protecting them from harm. His cold exterior is just a front—he deeply cares, though he shows it through quiet gestures more than words.

Though many assume he remains connected to Jujutsu High out of loyalty to Gojo, the real reason is a little more complicated—and a lot more personal.

It was you.

You, the brilliant alumna who somehow made chaos look graceful. You, who challenged him just by existing, who made him feel something close to warmth, even in a world riddled with curses and blood.

You, a fellow alumna and now a teacher in your own right, were the real reason he never fully walked away. Maybe he didn't mind helping train the next generation… if it meant catching glimpses of you between lessons. Maybe he didn't complain about overtime quite as much when it meant late-night patrols with you.

Not that he'd ever admit it out loud.

Unbothered king… unless it's you. Then he notices everything.

So when reports of another Jujutsu terrorist attack came in—Geto's name scrawled across the chaos once more—San didn't hesitate. He scanned the mission details and found yours almost immediately.

He knew the curse you were assigned to. Knew it was a special grade. Knew what that meant.

And suddenly, overtime didn't matter.

He was already moving before anyone could stop him, before anyone could question why someone so notoriously strict about his hours was volunteering to stay behind. But he didn't care. He'd assessed the curse, gauged its strength, and the answer was clear.

You could win—but you wouldn't walk away unscathed.

And that wasn't something he could live with.

So when you turned, surprised to find him there as you prepared for battle, irritation lining your voice—"What are you still doing here, Choi? I'm not one of the kids. You don't have to worry about me. It's past your working hours, just go. I'll be fine."—he only scoffed, fingers already at his collar as he loosened his tie.

"I'm not about to set a bad example to your students," he said smoothly, though the flicker in his gaze betrayed deeper concern. "Besides, it wouldn't be very responsible of me to leave a fellow colleague to finish this off on her own."

The battle ended quicker than either of you had anticipated. You'd already worn the special-grade curse down, but with San joining in—precise, ruthless, and composed as ever—it tipped the scale completely in your favour. A flash of his cursed technique cleaved through the creature's core, and with one final strike from you, its form disintegrated into black mist.

Silence settled in the aftermath, broken only by the faint hum of cursed energy dissipating. The Curtain flickered once… twice… then dissolved around you, revealing the moonlit city beyond.

Both of you stood there, catching your breath. Bruised, scraped, but victorious. "You know I could've handled that on my own," you muttered with a tired smirk.

San exhaled slowly, pretending to fix his watch, though his hand lingered longer than necessary. "I know… just wanted to help."

He didn't meet your eyes, unsure what he'd see—disapproval, amusement, or worse, understanding. But instead, you stepped closer. Close enough for him to feel your presence settle warmly into the space between you. Your hand reached up, and before he could process it, your thumb gently wiped a streak of blood from the corner of his chin.

"You had something," you said softly, fingers lingering for the briefest second longer than necessary.

The touch froze him.

His breath caught, his usual composure faltering just enough to let the fluster creep in. His mind raced—did you feel it too? The pull? The quiet gravity that had been gnawing at him every time you walked into the room?

You pulled away like nothing happened, but there was a glint in your eyes. The kind that told him maybe, just maybe, you knew exactly what you were doing.

"Thank you, Sannie, for your help," you said, bumping your shoulder into his, your tone light.

And just like that, you turned and walked off, leaving his heart pounding far louder than any curse ever could. He stared after your figure, dazed, on the brink of saying something more—something real—when you spun around with that familiar cheeky grin.

"I'm sure Gojo would be pleased to hear you're so willing to help after hours. Prepared to get busy?"

San groaned, dragging a hand down his face to hide the heat rising in his ears. "You really don't know when to stop." But he was already moving to follow, gaze still soft, expression still dazed.

He wasn't sure what had just happened.

But he knew one thing: he wanted more.

Mingi ↠ Rengoku Kyojuro (Demon Slayer)

With a booming voice, infectious laughter, and boundless enthusiasm, Mingi is the true embodiment of warmth and strength. He fights with passion, determination, and an unshakable resolve, inspiring everyone around him to push forward no matter the odds. He treats everyone like family, encouraging them with uplifting words and radiating kindness even in the darkest of times. He lives without regret, protecting those he loves with everything he has.

Even in the toughest battles, he always smiles and says, "It's okay. I'll take care of it."

He was bright, passionate, and larger than life.

But even the brightest flames have their moments of dimness. And in those quiet, flickering moments—when the laughter fades and the weight grows heavy—he has you.

A fellow Hashira he had met at the very start of his journey. You, who had stood beside him when his fire was still small, unsure, and constantly stifled by doubt. You, the quiet but unshakable force who never let his flame go out.

Not many know, but you are his foundation. The reason he can smile for others. The reason he can carry so much and still say, "I've got this." When his father questioned his worth, when the voices of self-doubt echoed louder than the roar of battle, you were the steady voice that reminded him he was enough.

Behind every smile he gives to the world, there is a moment shared with you. His flame may burn bright for all, but you…

You are the one who keeps it alive.

That thought clung to him long after yet another battle had ended. Tonight's battle had ended, but Mingi's heart hadn't stopped racing. Not from the fight—he could handle demons, wounds, even pain—but from the moment you were nearly struck, the way your blood had stained the ground, the way time seemed to freeze around him in that one terrifying second.

He hadn't let it show. Not in front of the others. Not while the mission still hung heavy in the air. But now, back at the Butterfly Mansion, all he could think about was you.

The Flame Hashira paced past the infirmary rooms, checking every cot—yours was empty.

His stomach twisted.

He scoured the garden, the corridors, a quiet kind of desperation building behind his ribs until—

He paused at the faint smell drifting through the corridor. Sweet potatoes. He followed it like instinct, his body moving before his mind even caught up.

There you were.

He leaned against the kitchen door frame, the sight of your familiar silhouette grounding him in a way nothing else could.

"What, pray tell, could you possibly be making this late in the night?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

You jumped, nearly fumbling the tray as you turned, eyes wide like you'd been caught stealing from the pantry. But then your gaze softened when you saw him, and so did your shoulders.

You beckoned him over.

He was at your side in seconds, eyes dropping to the tray of steaming sweet potatoes—his favourite. "I was going to bring them to you—"

You didn't even finish.

Mingi pulled you into his arms, his hold firm, almost desperate, burying his face in the curve of your shoulder like he was trying to make sure you were real. Warm. Alive.

You stood still for a beat, then melted into him, your hands moving gently to his back.

"I thought I lost you today," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

"But you didn't, Mangi," you replied softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. "I'm right here."

He held you tighter, as if afraid you might slip away again. The warmth of the kitchen, the soft scent of the sweet potatoes, the steady rise and fall of your breathing—it was all he needed to breathe again.

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your hand reaching up to brush a bit of dirt and dried blood from his cheek.

His eyes widened just slightly at the tenderness of the gesture.

"Sit. Eat," you said with a faint smile, trying to lighten the moment. "Even flames need fuel."

He let out a quiet laugh, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. He took your hand before you could turn away again and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, just for a second longer than necessary.

And in that quiet kitchen, long after the chaos had passed, Mingi knew something with absolute certainty: You weren't just the reason his flame stayed lit.

You were the reason he kept burning at all.

Wooyoung ↠ Howl (Howl's Moving Castle)

In a castle that moves across enchanted landscapes, Wooyoung is the enigmatic and breathtakingly beautiful wizard who leaves a trail of admirers wherever he goes. Flirty, dramatic, and effortlessly magical, he revels in the attention and mystery he creates—until it comes to you.

Because beneath the teasing smiles and grand entrances, his heart belongs to one person alone: you.

You, who first stumbled into his life like a quiet storm. You, who challenged his ego and saw through the layers of charm and chaos.

He may have a reputation for dodging responsibilities and laughing in the face of danger, but when it came to you, there was no hesitation. He searched high and low, dabbled in forbidden spells, crossed paths with demons and stars alike—all to break the curse that bound you.

Wooyoung could still joke, still charm, still wear his flamboyant coats and wink at danger. But every spell he cast, every risk he took, was fueled by one unshakable truth:

He loved you more than magic itself.

You didn't know. Or if you did, you never said. And so, he never crossed the line. Instead, he remained near—your chaos and your calm, your shield and your shadow.

He still enjoyed making you blush when he whispered sweet nothings, still tucked roses behind his ear for the sole purpose of handing them to you like he hadn't been thinking about it all day. But that affection, as loud as it felt in his chest, remained unspoken.

Even in the stillness of night, that truth clung to him.

It was well past midnight when the castle's creaks lulled into a rare hush. The stars blinked lazily beyond the ever-shifting windows. Restless, you wandered barefoot through unfamiliar corridors of the castle, drawn by the faint glimmer of soft golden light slipping under a closed door.

You pushed it open gently and paused.

The wizard was alone, standing in the centre of a dimly lit room you'd never seen before. It was quieter here, older. Shelves filled with weathered books, scattered scrolls, and constellations drawn in shimmering ink surrounded him. And in the middle of it all, floating weightlessly, was a glowing orb.

He didn't look at you at first. Just kept his gaze on the swirling light inside the orb, as though caught in a memory.

"What's that?" you asked softly.

He turned his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "A star," he said. "Or… what's left of one."

He lifted a hand, fingers brushing the edge of the light. "I caught it when I was young. Gave it my heart in exchange for power. For magic. For something I thought I needed to survive." He let out a quiet breath. "It used to feel like a mistake."

You stepped closer, drawn not by the light but by the shadow in his voice. "And now?" you asked.

He finally looked at you then. Really looked. His eyes, usually full of mischief and fire, softened like stardust settling over calm water.

"Now I think maybe I gave my heart away for a reason," he murmured. "So it could find its way back to something real."

Back to you, my love.

The orb dimmed slowly between you, as if the memory had played its final note. You were close now—close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him, close enough to notice the flicker in his gaze as it dropped to your lips before darting away.

You reached up without thinking, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear.

He stilled, then leaned ever so slightly into your touch. "You always ruin my dramatic moments," he said quietly, the smirk in his voice not quite reaching his eyes.

You smiled, not pulling away. "Then maybe you should stop letting me in on them."

"Not a chance," he whispered, stepping back just enough to keep from overstepping. "You're the only magic I trust with the whole show." And just like that, he stepped aside, gesturing for you to stay, to linger, to be near.

The world outside could crumble. But in this quiet room, with unspoken feelings and lingering touches, it felt, for just a moment, like you might already know. Like maybe, you were staying on purpose.

And so you did. You lingered.

You could have made some excuse, about wandering in your sleep or being curious about the light. But you didn't. You simply sat on the edge of a low couch near the wall as he returned to his place by the now-fading orb, casting a spell with a flick of his fingers to let the rest of the room dim into golden quiet.

The silence between you wasn't awkward. It never was. But tonight, it felt heavier. Charged. Something unspoken rested in the space like the star that once glowed there.

You glanced at him—really looked.

Wooyoung, with his dishevelled hair and candlelit skin, the robes hanging off one shoulder like they were too tired to be dramatic anymore. The boy who gave his heart to a star, who smiled through shadows, who searched the world to save you without expecting anything in return.

And suddenly, you felt it.

Not like a burst of clarity—but a soft click, like something that had always been there slipping quietly into place. A feeling that had grown with each glance, each teasing comment, each quiet act of care.

You'd spent so long thinking you had time. That his affection was playful. That maybe your own heart had been mistaken for something fleeting.

But it wasn't.

You loved him.

Not because he saved you. Not because he made you laugh when things were falling apart. Not even because he gave you stars. But because in a world that shifted constantly beneath your feet, he was the only thing that ever truly felt like home.

Your breath hitched just slightly. He must've sensed it, because his eyes met yours again—and this time, he said nothing. Just watched. Waited.

You smiled, quiet and real, and whispered, "Thank you, Woo."

"For what?" he asked, his voice low.

"For giving me somewhere to come back to."

He swallowed, a rare flicker of vulnerability slipping through the practised charm. And though neither of you said what you both now knew, it didn't matter.

Because something had changed.

And neither of you would ever be the same again.

Jongho ↠ Kageyama Tobio (Haikyuu!!)

On the court, Jongho is a powerhouse setter—calm, calculated, and relentless. His focus is razor-sharp, his skills unmatched, and his presence alone can change the pace of a match. He demands excellence, not out of arrogance, but because he sees the potential in every player. That desire to push others forward often earned him the nickname "King of the Court"—a title not of admiration, but of criticism, painting him as cold and controlling.

But off the court, those who truly knew him understood better.

Behind the intensity was someone goofy and awkward in the most endearing way. Someone who practised until his hands were bruised, who carried the weight of the team quietly on his shoulders, and who loved deeper than he knew how to say.

And then there was you.

His personal cheerleader since childhood. The one who never wavered, who stood by him when others misunderstood his passion for tyranny. Who shouted the loudest at his games, defended him in the hallways, and always reminded him that being different didn't make him wrong. You believed in him before anyone else did.

You, who had grown from the tiny kid with scraped knees into someone he now looked at with something deeper than just friendship. Something he hadn't quite found the courage to name—yet.

Maybe on the volleyball court, he was a king.

But to you? He just hoped to be something more.

It was thoughts like these that echoed louder than the sound of sneakers squeaking against polished wood, long after the gym had emptied.

Everyone else had gone home. The lights above buzzed quietly. He was alone, except for the ball bouncing back to him, the tension in his chest, and the self-imposed pressure gnawing at his focus.

Sweat clung to his brow as he reset for yet another drill, breath steady but heart pounding. The upcoming match loomed heavy on his shoulders. He couldn't afford mistakes. He couldn't let anyone down.

He served again. And again. And again. Each time just a fraction off from perfect. Frustrated, he exhaled sharply, pausing to rest his hands on his knees. His mind raced—every error, every comment, every moment where he wasn't good enough replaying like a cruel loop.

Then the door creaked.

He tensed, not ready for any more eyes on him.

But then he heard your voice.

"You know, most people go home after practice ends."

He froze mid-serve, the ball slipping from his fingers and bouncing harmlessly away. He turned slowly, trying not to look too startled—or too thrilled.

You stood there with a half-smile and a bag of snacks in your hands, wearing that same look you always did when you found him overworking himself again: exasperated, but soft around the edges.

"I brought your favourite," you said, walking toward him, holding the bag up like an offering. "Figured you'd still be here. You never know when to quit."

He let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I'm predictable."

"You're relentless," you corrected, stepping close enough to press the snacks gently into his hands. "And a little too hard on yourself."

He met your eyes then—really met them. The gym felt quieter suddenly, like the whole place was holding its breath.

"I just… I don't want to let anyone down," he admitted, voice low. "I know what they say about me. Controlling. Too intense. But I push because I know they can do it. Because I care."

You smiled, the kind that always seemed to pull the air right out of his lungs. "I know. That's why I've never stopped cheering for you."

His hands tightened around the bag. For a moment, he forgot about the court, the pressure, the weight of the upcoming match. All he saw was you—standing in front of him, as you always had.

"You've always been there," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Even when everyone else looked at me like I was too much… you never did."

You tilted your head slightly. "That's because I've always seen you, Jjong. Not just the King of the Court."

He hesitated—just for a heartbeat—before the words slipped out, shaky but sincere. "I think I… I don't just want to be your friend anymore."

Your breath caught.

The gym lights flickered slightly overhead, but neither of you moved.

You stepped a little closer, your voice barely above a whisper. "Then stop talking like you're afraid I might not feel the same."

He blinked, stunned for a moment, before the smallest, most genuine smile curved on his lips. And in that quiet space between old memories and new feelings, Jongho thought—for once—maybe he really didn't have to be perfect.

Not when you already chose him anyway.

I hope y'all enjoyed this! Sorry if the last few members' parts didn't quite meet expectations because my dumbass worked on them in a pretty sleep-deprived state HAHA anyway, how did y'all like the matches? Do you agree with them?🤭

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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Cinematic Sparks (Kim Namjoon x Lewis Hamilton's sister!Reader)

Face claim- India Armateifio. Pictures from Pinterest

Series Masterlist

y/nhamilton

Liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 234,987 others Tagged lewishamilton

y/nhamilton A weekend well spent😌😌

mercedesamgf1 you should spend more weekends with us🥹🥹 user1 the hamilton's have great genes❤️❤️ user2 so pretty!!😍😍 user3 the first picture😍😍 user4 how is she so pretty even without make up??😩😩 lewishamilton stop telling dad I don't take you places😤😤 y/nhamilton lewishamilton never bc its the truth😡 lewishamilton y/nhamilton that's why I don't take you anywhere🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️

y/nhamilton

Liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg and 147,927 others Tagged lewishamilton

y/nhamilton I coquettified him!!🎀🎀

lewishamilton take that picture down😡 y/nhamilton NO🫢 nicorosberg that's why you're my favourite Hamilton ❤️❤️Liked by the Author mercedesamgf1 why didn't we think of that?🤔 user5 I want a brother like Lewis🥲 user6 Lewis I get you ma brother, my sisters crazy just like yours😥 user7 she looks so perfect doing anything😫😫 user8 we love you Y/N. Never change for this industry🤣🤣 user9 user8 what industry? f1? user8 user9 she's an actor, she starred in a lot of movies and shows😀

y/nhamilton

Liked by lewishamilton and 1,287,298 others

y/nhamilton Exhausted from all the promo but I hope you guys will enjoy seeing me in the new Netflix original

user10 I just watched it and I love it❤️❤️ user11 effortlessly pretty😍😍 user12 her interviews are riveting😘 user13 her chemistry with her co-stars is unbelievable🫢🫢

y/nhamilton

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y/nhamilton Rejuvenating my soul in Seoul

user14 OMG!! YOU LOOK SO GOOD IN A HANBOK❤️❤️ user15 That caption is bomb 😩😩 user16 I ran into her the other day and she was the nicest person and we took pictures and even gave her autograph🥹🥹 y/friend/user best girls trip everrrr🥹🥹 y/bff/user wanna go back!!!❤️‍🩹🥲

y/nhamilton followed rkive

gossippage

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gossippage Dispatch Korea released pictures of a couple saying they are Y/N Hamilton and RM of BTS. The outlet says that they were spotted a couple times spanning months going in and out of RM's Hannam-dong apartment. The couple or their agency are yet to confirm anything

user17 obviously namjoon pulled her, I mean look at her😩 user18 you can't even see their face, it's utter bs😤😤 user19 they are grown adults, if they date then they date user20 I hope it's true, I wanna see Namjoon at races🥹 user21 it's funny how 7 time world champion's sister's dating some one who cannot drive🤣🤣 user22 I think it's true, RM just followed her🥲🥲

rkive followed y/nhamilton

y/nhamilton

Liked by rkive, lewishamilton and 2,456,973 others Tagged rkive

y/nhamilton All the time I spent with you was the best. I'll be looking out of the window wistfully waiting for my husband to return from the war😭

rkive I'll be back soon❤️ lewishamilton what do you mean husband?? 😡😡 georgerussell63 incase any one was wondering, Lewis is pacing the mercedes hospitality like a mad man nicorosberg he's a gent, we love him❤️ sebastianvettel he's so much better than the other guys you've brought home❤️ lewishamilton sebastianvettel there were others???🥲😤 y/nhamilton lewishamilton you act like I am 5😫😫 user23 y/n and namjoon dating was not on my 2023 bingo🫢🫢 user24 the boyfriend namjoon pictures are killing me😭😭 user25 she's us, waiting for our husbands*cough*JungKook*cough* user26 love the Hamilton siblings😂😂

rkive

Liked by y/nhamilton, uarmyhope and 2,370,290 others Tagged y/nhamilton

rkive My favourite person to take to museums

y/nhamilton I'm the only person you take to museums🤔 rkive y/nhamilton bc that's the only time you shut up😌 y/nhamilton rkive 😤😡 user27 he really said f u to the company, I do what I want😂😂 user28 this couple was made for us😭😭 user29 I'm living vicariously through them😭😭 user30 cutest couple ever❤️🥹 user31 ewww you ruined your feed for her🙃🙃 urarmyhope ❤️