#from laughter and fear

[kits-ships]

almost submitted this photo of four as my id photo for work <3

[unpersoniverse]

Skén:nen sá:sewh

as promised, here's Precious boy™ getting kissed by Precious wife™ because he deserves all the love in the world :cc

translation: Get home safe

[vaggieslefteye]

Angel, can I see you in your dressing room for a moment?

[st4r-t3ars]

Fox Kits - a contraband corrie card game

(shh don’t tell the commanders)

[worstloki]

MCU shouldn’t have gone with a ‘you’re stronger than you realized’ type plot for Loki that’s rubbish instead they should have gone for the ‘yeah no sorry I don’t know what I’m capable of you may wonder why but it’s because I’ve been exhausted this whole time yeah just not functioning right between the sleep issues the torture and the making sure Thor stays alive and that last ones been going on for a long time now’

[wolfeyedwitch]

When it's 3 years after the fact and you realize that you accidentally helped a friend name a character Tim Drake.

*facepalm*

To be fair, it's a nickname? But still. When my friend went "hey what should my character Septimus's last name be?"

I said "Drake," because fantasy setting, and it sounds cool, and why not.

It wasn't until later that we got into the whole "Septimus is kind of a mouthful, what would people actually call him?"

And that's when Tim came up as a nickname.

And I put NONE OF THIS ALL TOGETHER until just recently when reading Batfam fics because that's the rabbit hole my current fandom fixation went down via crossover introductions a la dpxdc.

I think I need to go hide in shame now.

[ayyponine]

not to be a milennial but harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban really is that bitch....

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

me, clawing my way up your pant leg like a cat: you SEE. the history of the circus and the history of pole dancing are ONE AND THE SAME. you cannot honestly separate pole from stripping and strippers, but you also can't honestly take the circus out. the contemporary class divide between "aerial arts" and pole dance is an echo of an earlier time, of star / soloist vs troupe, of air acts vs sexual titillation + customer service, of playbill vs word of mouth. get down on the ground and you're close to the freak tent, baby. climb back towards the sky and--

you, swatting me with a frying pan: how the FUCK did you get into my house

me, clinging harder, foaming at the mouth: close to the ground and the CLOWNS vs the sky and the stars and HEAVEN--

[iteration-penumbra]

this planet CONSTANTLY had frigates flying overhead, destination score 3/10, very toxic and the noise pollution is unreal :/

Nice triple star system though, it gets a few points for that.

[tedthetalk]

Antagonist exists as a lot of things, a shadow on the narrative, the rot in the foundation of the industry, someone to have done it first and give a path to follow — but the most visceral truth of him is the living bleeding proof of what mecha do to a person, and what happens when the iron control it forces on pilots on pain of death either snaps or is willingly tossed aside

[ashraffamilynew]

Please help secure a future for an entire family - me, Ashraf, my wife Ghadeer, and our lovely innocent son Yamen 👶💙

Vetted by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi , fundraisers list Number (#328)

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on their list ( #74 )

Vetted on X platform on this spreadsheet (#391)

Shared by @90-ghost | Shared by @a-shade-of-blue | Shared by @dlxxv-vetted-donations

Please bring us back to life without war, destruction, genocide or killing because this is what fills our memories after we forget what a life full of hope is like ‼️

I'm Ashraf from the war-torn Gaza. I've lived an entire life under siege in Gaza, facing relentless military actions and life-threatening conditions daily. In October 2023, the conflict escalated drastically, devastating my newly built house, my neighborhood,my workplace, and jeopardizing the lives of my family.

My wife, Ghadeer @ghadeerarqan , and I live in Gaza with our baby son Yamen. My wife gave birth to Yamen during the war, and it is all he has ever known. Yamen has spent the tenth months of his young life without a stable home, surviving a genocide.

I mourn the loss of our safe haven, but more urgently, I need to secure a future for my family away from the constant threat of bombings that have become our grim reality.

Meet Yamane, our precious tenth-months-old. Who was born during this war, We aspire to provide him with opportunities that surpass our own experiences, fostering a future filled with joy and prosperity.

This campaign is a call to arms for all who believe in the transformative power of community support. By contributing, you're not just donating; you're actively shaping Yamane's world, ensuring his journey is filled with the promise and potential every child deserves. Join us in making a profound impact on his life

Yamen... he's only a baby. He doesn't understand the fear that grips us, the darkness that engulfs our lives. He just smiles, his eyes bright with innocent wonder, oblivious to the terror that surrounds him. He reaches for me with tiny hands, his laughter a fragile melody in this symphony of destruction. 💔

can we shield him from the reality of this war ⁉️can we keep him safe ⁉️

Your generosity is a beacon of hope for my family, especially for my little baby boy Yaman👶🩷, who deserves a future free from fear and filled with opportunity.

Thank you for standing with us during this incredibly challenging time. Your support means the world to us, 🌺🩷🌿🕊

But we still need your help to reach our goal. Please continue to share our campaign and consider contributing if you can. Together, we can create a brighter future for Yamane and all children affected by this conflict.

Vetted by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi , fundraisers list Number (#328)

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on their list ( #74 )

Vetted on X platform on this spreadsheet (#391)

Shared by /@90-ghost

Shared by @a-shade-of-blue

Shared by @dlxxv-vetted-donations

[scvcnofswords]

∗ 61﹕ sender  cages  receiver  against  [ the floor ]  with  their  arms . || @purposecorrupted

She'd been hesitant to agree to sparring with Solas. The man isn't weak, she knows that- his every line and movement belies the power in him. She cannot fathom, honestly, how anyone has ever believed him anything other than a force of nature, both in magic and in combat.

But he is a mage, and Litriu is- a ranger. An unconventional one at that. And when he'd proposed the endeavor be full hand-to-hand, she'd been even more leery. But she'd agreed.

And that leads them to where they are now, trading blows and feinting in and out of one another, each trying to gain a feel for how the other moves.

He's a beautiful fighter. He's more fluid than she is- Litriu fights much like the beasts she battles alongside, jagged explosions of movement returning to moments of utter stillness, surging into his space to force him to cede ground, only to retreat herself to keep him off-balance. Keep him from knowing what to expect.

But he's fluid like the ocean, movements clean and precise with no telegraphing. She'd like to just watch him fight like this one day; study how he works, pick apart his instincts and his motions in her mind. They're trading body blows more or less punch-for-punch, even for the most part except for single moments where one gains the upper hand; only to lose it again a moment later.

It's like dancing, with Solas. She's never felt the like, in a spar. She tilts her head, testing- and then lunges a kick at him, meaning to use the momentum to surge back and flip herself back to rights, try and see if there's a way she can use the walls to get above him- drop onto his shoulders, one of her favorite tactics in the field.

But she'd underestimated his speed, because Solas catches her ankle and jerks her towards him. Litriu hisses, and thrashes- sweeps both their legs out from under them and sending them both sprawling to the dirt.

From there, it's a whirling, wrestling struggle of one trying to pin the other- rolling over and over as each tries to get the upper hand. For a moment- for a MOMENT, Litriu has him, atop his chest with her arm barred against his throat. But there's a yank as he frees one of his hands, and grabs her hip-

and suddenly, Litriu is flat on her back and staring up at him, chest heaving with shaking breaths. He has her arms pinned by her head- and his mouth brushes her throat in a movement she's made herself, multiple times in her history.

She'd torn out Rendon Howe's throat with her teeth, when he'd pinned her to the ground after nearly killing Alistair, after she'd been the only one still standing against him. He'd been larger than her, he'd disarmed her; she'd been exhausted from imprisonment and interrogation at Fort Drakon only days before. So he'd dragged her to the ground like a wolf downs an elk, and held his knife and gloated; and she'd used the only weapons left to her.

She hadn't thought Solas would remember- but she feels him smile against her skin.

Perhaps she should feel more ill-at-ease. Perhaps she should feel alarmed or even angry that he's bested her. But- there's a burning heat instead- in her cheeks, in her chest, in her blood, and Litriu takes a slow, shaking breath, before tipping her chin up; yielding her throat to him, body slowly softening and losing tension in his hold.

He doesn't take his mouth off of her pulse, and Litriu shivers, eyes falling closed. "- Yield," she rasps, making no move to push him off of her or surge to freedom. He releases her hands- but then he's leaning on his forearms, on either side of her head, and staring down at her, and her heart is in her throat, in a manner entirely unfamiliar to her.

But she still doesn't push him off, her own heather-grey eyes searching his storm-violet ones.

[ifriqiyyah]

-

[cumberbatchedandproud]

OP tags: #my man desperately wants to be seen and to stay invisible. he never wants to experience love but also wants to be held tightly #he wants his fear of abandonment to be fulfilled but is terrified of it actually happening... because he's finally found his home #he wants solitude and a life of love and family and laughter and joy #he wants. he wants. HE WANTS sooo much but doesn't know how to process it all #or how to ask for it #han juwon #han joo won

Han Joo Won: I am changing for the better (A scrapbook of Joo Won's intricacies and fallacies, contradictions and truths, hopes and desires).

credit: Beyond Evil, episode 6 / quote - unknown / Beyond Evil, episode 1 / Beyond Evil, episode 9 / Letters To Milena - Franz Kafka / Beyond Evil, episode 9 / My Years of Rest and Relaxation - Ottessa Moshfegh / My Year of Rest and Relaxation - Ottessa Moshfegh / quote - Emily Palermo / Beyond Evil, episode 13 / Girls That Never Die - Safia Elhillo / Beyond Evil, episode 15 / Beyond Evil, episode 5 / Mastermind by Taylor Swift / Beyond Evil, episode 3 / The Waves - Virginia Woolf / Beyond Evil, episode 10 / quote - Sylvia Plath / Beyond Evil, episode 15 / Beyond Evil, episode 9 / Haif-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016; 'The Third Hour of the Night - Frank Bidart / Beyond Evil, episode 15 / Beyond Evil, episode 13 / Red, White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston / Beyond Evil, episode 16 / Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude - Ross Gay / Beyond Evil, episode 16 / Beyond Evil, episode 1 / September Affirmation (Don’t Be Afraid) by Keaton St. James / Beyond Evil, episode 16

[furuu]

∘ ◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ You had been hired like the others—one of many women brought into Sukuna’s domain with the sole purpose of sitting on his lap while he reigned from his throne. It was a simple job: to run your hands softly over his skin, murmur praise, and worship the King of Curses with sweet words and gentle touches, making him feel like the god he believed himself to be.

It was supposed to be just that. You were there to flatter him, nothing more. Your touch was practiced, your words rehearsed. But today, as you sat between his large thighs, your hands tracing the sharp angles of his jaw, something slipped out��something that wasn’t meant to.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Your breath caught as you realized what you had said, horror and embarrassment flooding your senses. It was a mistake, an accident. You weren’t supposed to say that. Your heart raced, and you braced yourself for his anger, for the cruel laughter that was sure to follow.

But instead, Sukuna let out a deep, rumbling purr, his entire body vibrating with satisfaction. His lower eyes narrowed as a dangerous smile spread across his lips, and he leaned forward, his large hand gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Say it again,” he ordered, his voice a low, velvety command that left no room for hesitation.

You froze, caught between your fear and the intensity of his demand. “I… I love you, Sukuna,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His growl deepened, reverberating through the air, and his smile widened. The approval in his gaze was unmistakable, and to your surprise, his body seemed to relax, his muscles loosening as if your words had a calming effect on him. The air around you felt heavier, charged with something unspoken, and his eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction.

“Again,” he murmured, the command sharper this time, more insistent.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you complied, your voice growing steadier. “I love you.”

Another rumble of pleasure escaped Sukuna, his growls and purrs filling the space around you, echoing through his vast domain. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of hearing it, as if those three words were more valuable to him than any amount of praise he’d received before. And that’s when you realized: none of the others had ever touched him like this. None of them had been allowed to.

You were the only one.

Out of all the women brought to sit on his lap, to worship him with words and praise, you were the only one who had the privilege of touching him—of making him purr, of bringing him this kind of pleasure. Something about you stirred something deep inside him, something he hadn’t expected.

He had never been loved before.

And now, with those words slipping past your lips, something within him awoke—a hunger, a need to hear it again and again. It was more than just your touch or your gentle words. It was the way you said it, the way your voice caressed those three simple words, filling a void inside him that no one else had ever reached.

“Again.” He growled, pulling you closer, his large hands tightening their grip as if you might disappear if he let go. His purrs grew louder, reverberating through his chest and into you, his pleasure palpable with every repetition.

You obeyed, whispering it once more. And with each “I love you,” he held you tighter, his growls of satisfaction echoing through the hall. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not now. Not ever.

You had become the only one he needed—the only one who could fill the emptiness he didn’t even know he had.

[mohfamily]

🌟 A Plea from Gaza: Rola’s Story 🌟

Hello, my name is Rola, and I am a mother of two children living in the Gaza Strip. Our lives were once filled with love, laughter, and dreams for the future. But everything changed on October 7th, when the war shattered not only our home but our entire world.

That morning, my family and I were enjoying coffee together on the balcony. Out of nowhere, an explosion erupted, shaking our home violently. My husband and son ran for cover, falling over each other in panic, while I stood frozen, still holding my cup, unable to process the chaos around me. When I looked out the window, I saw that our neighbor’s house, once filled with life, had been reduced to rubble. Ambulances rushed to the scene as people scrambled to rescue the injured and pull bodies from the debris.

The bombings didn’t stop. At night, the rain poured heavily, and the cold seeped into our bones. I stayed awake, covering my children to keep them warm and praying for their safety. But safety is an illusion here. Another explosion shattered the night, and our neighbors’ home was destroyed. Their children, who had been sleeping peacefully under a blanket, were found lifeless, their cover soaked in blood.

I looked at my children with tears in my eyes and thought, How can I protect you? We had to flee our home with nothing but the clothes on our backs. We left behind my children’s toys, their clothes, and their beautiful bedroom. Everything we had worked so hard to build is gone.

Our Current Reality Now, we are displaced and living in a nightmare. Food is scarce, and prices are unimaginably high—$10 for a kilo of sugar! The fear of death hangs over us constantly. My children deserve a life of joy and hope, not one defined by fear and loss. Why can’t we live like everyone else—go to work, visit family, and watch our children play in safety? Why do our children have to grow up surrounded by death and destruction?

How You Can Help I am pleading for your kindness to help us rebuild our lives. We need your support to: 💔 Rebuild our home, so my children can feel safe again. 🌍 Evacuate from Gaza, seeking a future where my family can live with dignity. 🩺 Provide urgent medical care for my children, who need protection from this nightmare.

Even the smallest donation can make a difference. If you can’t donate, please share my story. Every share brings us closer to hope.

What Your Support Means Your kindness is not just about helping us survive; it’s about giving us a chance to dream again. To rebuild what we’ve lost and to ensure my children have a future filled with possibilities, not fear.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Your support means the world to us. Let’s work together to rebuild hope, one step at a time.

🌸 Please share our story and consider donating today. 🌸

Together, we can create a better tomorrow. 🌍❤️