#i dont know how they lived to this point yet with those two as their parents

[homophyte]

was just subjected to a self righteous post about how we need to learn to respect second generation atheists (important context: i am one) and how their existence begs the question of if atheism is always in reaction to something or if it can be an independently held position. which then followed it up with a 'summary of responses to this post' that included, peppered among things second generation atheists said or remarks about never hearing about this before, extremely reactionary positions about the necessity of religion in life all couched in the language of simple 'concern' for these atheists upbringing. like omg yesss your post is soooo important we really need to interrogate this group that is persecuted by literally every large religious organization on the planet about if their way of life is legitimate! its sooooooo crucial we open doors to religious mandates. its imperative that we teach them about religion, a thing they are so cruelly denied, but dont worry guys, for some of them, its not their fault! we can help them! by making them religious i mean teaching them about religion! remember that some jewish people are atheists too <3

[lairofsentinel]

I love how this post forgets entirely that a lot of ppl are against GMO because they are deeply related to modifying food in order to resist certain pesticides that then end up in our food. It’s not because “contains genes”, it’s because contains non-biodegradable substances that pollute our lands and, by now, our clouds and rain. It’s about the chemicals that have tons and tons of studies showing they increase the development of allergies in the population, cause unusual hormone alterations, and even affect fetus in pregnant ppl. In the towns around the fields where they are spread, you have 3 times more cancer cases than the national mean, specially in kids. So, no, it’s not “mere genes”. It’s a lot more and deeper, related to sustainability and public health, which is also science that corporations ignore completely. What I found so curious is that most ppl from first world countries does not know that the majority of the GMO is not related to “make crops flood resistant”, but resistant to pesticides. Monsanto loves spreading that concept that GMO is just used to make “food have more vit A”. And ppl just repeat. Countries where we truly endure the use of GMO in our lands, we know exactly that GMO means.

GMO has existed forever, natives such as the incas practised it, it’s not “new”, it’s not “modern science”. Mexicas developed a hundred corn types over centuries with this technique. Again, it’s not new. Now we can accelerate the genetic modifications and be more accurate with the modern techniques, but it’s mostly to make them resistant to pesticides. Why do you think Monsanto was bought by Bayer years ago? The same corporation that sells you pesticides, that are, most of the time, non-controlled in their manipulations, is the same one that sells you food and then medicines because the illnesses related to the constant ingest of these [non-regulated] pesticides. And this is one of the many negatives effects. Another one that happens with GMO [even though nobody in this fucking place wants to acknowledge it] is the mono-cultive practices [non-rotation of the crops] that destroy the health of the soil, and if you don’t have a soil with rich minerals, the plants you put to grow there won’t develop properly or will be poor in minerals and vits. So, we have poorer food and erosion. Because, yes... GMO used in this way causes it. A big problem that, again, nobody speaking about GMO seems to know. We are not speaking about the erosion of the soils and how these practices are destroying entire countries’ biodiversity. 

Another great danger that specialists have been repeating over and over is that GMO usually forces similar modifications in different crops so different plants can resist the same pesticides that are sold in a big “bio-package”. This causes that weed and some plagues became resistant or stronger to this pesticide, so every few years we need higher doses or stronger pesticides that end up in our food and in our body [because so far, a lot of them are not biodegradable]. All the problems listed above become more concentrated. 

The other important danger is that it may happen a plague or a fungus that may be particularly prone to develop, associated with a similar modification that was used on different crops. This can endanger a lot of different crops with one single plague, causing potential destruction of big quantities of different kinds of food [this is also a very old concern known by natives since centuries ago, reason why they always tried to use rudimentary GMO techniques to favour a diversification of the crops, not the other way around like corporations do now]. So far we know, scientists have talked about this a lot, but one thing is a scientist talking about this issue, and another is a food-monopolised-corporation doing it, especially when corporations see more profit by just reducing the diversification in our food [less different bio-packages to develop]. 

And we can continue with the silly argument that “corporations are different to the GMO technique”, and even though that’s true “technically”, the reality shows otherwise. We live in a world where GMO has been monopolised. Hell, food industry is already monopolised, so don’t be so naive to think that we still can keep things separated. 

“Mere genes”. I would love so much this place to learn the topic properly before dismissing entire populations in this way. GMO, as it’s now, controlled and monopolised by corporations, is a big no-no. And dismissing the entire population whose children have 3 times more cancer cases than the national mean [northern provinces of Argentina, for example] because these pesticides, annoys me a lot. Never ever I've seen an integral post of GMO in this place. The topic is a looot more complex than the religious adoration of science or feeling superior because “I know science” or “I _believe_ in science”. Not all science is good, not all science is well tested before being used, corporation science is always a big question mark in many, many contexts, and science is always founded and moved by interests [unfortunately, more and more corporate interests by now]. Science is good, but don’t turn it into the new religion. It has limits and flaws, and it’s dirty to the neck with interests that few want to acknowledge. 

Funny how that works

[chiacanwritesometimes]

everybody adores you, at least i do.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

based on “everybody adores you (quiet)” by matt maltese :)

ship: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.9k

authors note: i wrote this after listening to ^^^ on repeat, god i love matt maltese. there are scenes of alcohol intake, a panic attack and brief self harm. please dni if these topics bother, trigger, or make you uncomfortable. this was a pretty long drabble, hope you enjoy :D

============

you can act all shy, but you know that i want you.

you aren’t one for flattery, that much was obvious. every time bucky took the time to compliment you, he knew what your next words would be. like clockwork, you would turn red, look away, and sheepishly mutter, “thanks”. you fiddled with your hands, and quickly changed the subject. how desperately he wanted to hold your hands, and kiss them. for years, he pined over you, and you’ve always been almost at his grasp. these past couple of weeks though, it seemed to hit you, that he wanted you.

in the dead of night, i want to live with you.

it all started three years ago, after everyone came back from the blip. people were everywhere, and it seemed that all the noise that lacked from the world came back in an instant. after realizing what happened to you, your environment and your home, you couldn’t help but laugh. how comical, that it seemed like nothing changed. your family hadn’t contacted you, well, the distant family that you still had. you walked to a bar in the hazy hours of the night, and met him. some guys were bothering him about his glove, but he seemed unaffected. he just stared ahead, and drank his whiskey. you devised a plan, to distract the assholes and to maybe introduce yourself. you didn’t want to seem like you were trying to pick him up, but you were trying to make friends in this new world. you asked the bartender quietly to escort the two loud drunks out, and sat down next to him. you didn’t think you’d get this far, so you were at a loss on what to say. did people still talked the same five years later? of course they did, but how do you navigate yourself into talking? your thoughts piled up, and they kept piling up, until his gruff voice interrupted them.

“thanks.” he grumbled quietly.

“hm?” you didn’t catch what he said, as you were too distracted. he cleared his throat.

“i said thanks. for the, yeah.” he pointed to the two men outside. he wasn’t much for words, you realized. you sighed in relief and nodded.

“yeah, dont sweat it.”

he offered to walk you home, as a sign of gratitude. it amused you both that you lived in the same building. small world. you invited him inside, but he hesitated.

“we can take a rain check, if you’d like. ill write you my number.” you assured him, and walked inside to grab a post it. what were you doing? giving a stranger your number? you put those thoughts to rest as you wrote your number.

he awkwardly waited at the half open door. he was glad to have made a…friend? he didn’t know what to call you yet, but he was sure to catalogue you at the back of his mind to let his witch of a therapist know. over the next couple of weeks, you had began to know him better. he had a cat, alpine. he had a past that he wasn’t open to sharing. his apartment was empty, almost ready to be left without a tenant at any moment. he froze at your touch, so you made a mental note to not do that. what a strange person. you knew he disappeared during the blip as well, but you felt as if he had lost more than five years.

so terrified of the road that takes you, me too.

a year had passed for your friendship. you came to his apartment, unexpected, and brought two little cupcakes with candles on them.

“what’s this?” he asked, a little embarrassed to be touched by such a small little gesture.

“its our friendship anniversary, goofy.”

“do we sing happy birthday, or what?” you paused. you weren’t sure, you didn’t really think of singing.

“um, we can have toasts if you’d prefer that. yes, toasts! ill get the glasses.” you sprung to your feet and gracefully navigated yourself in his small kitchen. you had spruced up his place a little, buying him hand towels, candles, and little trinkets that make a house a home, or rather, an apartment into a cozier place to live. you brought the two flutes, and filled them with champagne. he frowned.

“that is definitely not mine.”

“i brought it to celebrate, we need something fancy.” he rolled his eyes, but went along to your little celebration. he sat on his couch and observed you placing the cupcakes on the coffee table, and as you passed him his glass.

“ill go first. um…” you didn’t want to admit that you had started liking him, so you decided to say general statements.

“i hadn’t had a friend since, high school? maybe…so thank you for letting me be yours. err, friend, that is. to many more.” you clinked your glass with his, and motioned for him to go next.

“my last friend died a year ago. you haven’t died yet, so cheers to that.” he said dryly, with a little smile on his face. he thought he was so funny. he clinked his glass with yours, and drank the liquid. you rolled your eyes and mirrored him.

you started watching a movie with him, but you weren’t really paying attention. he started to accept your touch more and more, and you watched the movie with your head leaning on his shoulder. he leaned his head on yours, and tried his best to not move, so as to not bother you. the second act of the movie was commencing, and he had something on his mind. he had to fess up eventually about who he is- who he was, that is. someone he no longer was, someone he despised so vehemently.

“doll?” he tested the waters. he started calling you that, a reminder of how much of a casanova he was when he was in high school. you protested but eventually let him continue calling you that, as it was more effort telling him to stop than you cared to give.

“mm?” you hummed softly, half asleep.

“i wasn’t joking about my toast.”

“i didn’t think you were. you don’t have to talk about it if you don-“

“i want to talk about it.”

you paused. this was rare. you didn’t know what to think, so you gave him the space to talk.

“there’s a reason i’m always wearing this glove, you know.”

“yeah, circulation problems.” you joked, but he didn’t laugh.

“doll, i was born in 1917.”

“…” you sat up. “what? james, you’re not being funny right now.”

he continued tentatively.

“my name is james buchanan barnes and i was born in march 10, 1917.” he recited as if giving a memorized speech, his monotone words hitting you, syllable by syllable.

“i was forced to be the winter soldier, and i was framed for the U.N bombing.” your facial expression must’ve hinted that you put the pieces together, and he stopped.

“and, yeah. i have a metal arm.” he added almost rushed, he wanted to explain that part as well. he gave you space to fully digest everything.

“so…your friend that died was…” he nodded.

“steve rogers.” he finished for you.

“wow.” you didn’t know what to say, you just sat there. everything made so much sense now, why he always wore a glove, why he never had any pictures of friends or family, nothing. suddenly, you smiled.

“doll?” he looked confused. your best friend admitted to lying about his identity to your face for a year, and you’re…smiling?

“the first friend i made in ten years is someone who’s older than me by eighty years.” you giggled.

“i don’t- you’re not mad?” his brain short circuited. you’re not responding the way he thought you would’ve. you shook your head.

“i mean, what kind of friend am i for you not to be able to trust me with that? yeah, im a little blindsided, but i understand. i still see you as my friend.”

he didn’t know what to do. tears threatened to fall.

“pay attention to this part, its my favorite.” you leaned back to your original position, as if nothing happened. you offered your hand, and he took it.

don't modify, every one adores you, at least i do.

“dont look at me like that.” you said, a little tipsy. you had been friends with him for two years now, and you had invited him over to your apartment, for new year’s. you both didn’t really have any plans, or friends, for that matter. of course, he had sam, but sam was with his sister for the new year. he had barged into your apartment with a six case of beer on him, and two little paper hats saying, “happy new year!”. how adorable. you weren’t dressed up, gracing yourself with an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. you sat on the couch with your legs on his lap, his flesh hand holding his beer and his metal hand holding you. he traced small circles on your calves, which felt really intimate. you’re grateful he used his metal hand, because you weren’t sure what you would’ve done if he used his skin to tease you so.

“like what?” he asked. his tone was quiet, his eyes searching for permission in yours. permission for what?

“like you want to kiss me.”

“and what if i do?” there it was. you didn’t want to ruin any friendship you still had left after he threw that bombshell. you paused and looked away. you took another sip of your beer.

“i’m afraid i’ll have to decline your advances.” you quietly said. its not that you didn’t love him, but it all felt so wrong. the only reason he wanted to kiss you was because it was the new year, and that stupid fucking tradition.

“you know i could get lost in those eyes. i’d trip over my words trying to find my way back.” he admitted. he really did love you. god, he loved you.

“if you keep looking at me like that, i might think that you have a crush on me.” you teased, face red. from the intimacy or from the alcohol? you weren’t sure, maybe it was both.

“and what if i did?”

“bucky…” you sighed. you sat up and moved your legs away from him.

“i mean it. would that be such a crime?” he leaned his body towards you. you noticed that his cheeks had their own hue of red, and his eyes felt unsure.

“bucky.” you cut him off. you didn’t know what to say. its not like you could say, “i dont want you to kiss me for new year’s, because i want you to kiss me for real.” you didn’t know what to say, so you just shook your head slightly. he nodded, stood up, and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“i understand.” he whispered into your ear. you bit your lip, this was the friendliest he had ever been towards you, and you only wished for more. he smiled softly and said,

“happy new year, y/n.”

right where the black wood sighs, i look at you, through and through.

your birthday was coming up, and he decided to surprise you. he researched thoroughly about forests located next to you, and found the one. things had been a little rough post new year’s eve, but your connection through knowing who he was kept the friendship close. you soon were back to your old self, but remained a bit guarded.

your birthday was today. you hadn’t received any messages from him, so you felt a bit let down. you sighed throughout the day as you kept checking. suddenly, around 2 in the afternoon, he knocked on your door with a basket in hand, and flowers in the other.

“happy birthday, doll.”

it’s safe to say that you spent the rest of your day very content, and impressed at the picnic he had organized.

right where your father died I'll hold on to your hand.

you don’t remember much from your father, other than the fact that he died early in your youth. you detested seeing children with both their parents with them, even as an adult. you felt jealous, angry at your father for dying. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but still. you occasionally visited his grave, and the place where he passed on. it was a rainy day, the day he went with you. you asked him to go, as you weren’t feeling so well. he obliged.

the downpour matched the dreary mood, and as you stood near the bench he died on, a bench he felt was familiar. he started to panic, thinking that somehow he was the one responsible for the death of your father, wondering if you taking him here was some sort of ploy to avenge your father.

“he got caught in the crossfire of a crime.” you admitted. “police were chasing this guy, and he meant to shoot the…” you trailed off. he knew what you were trying to say and he nodded. he sighed, partly from the mood and partly from relief that he wasn’t the one that took him from you. you took his hand and held it. he squeezed your hand, and rubbed circles on your knuckles.

“thank you.” what an odd thing for him to say to you, but you knew that he meant for taking him to a place so sacred to you.

“now we’re even.” you smiled at him. no more secrets about the past.

so terrified of the road that takes you, me too.

panic attacks didn’t hit him often. it was around two weeks since his last one, and it wasn’t something he wasn’t thinking of at the time, until now.

he spent so much time at your place, so much in fact, that some of his mail correspondence was sent to your place by the mailman. how silly. he was over for some random dinner, and conversed with you as you cooked. you were making spicy chicken alfredo, or something along those lines. he didn’t really pay attention, he only focused on you. he noticed how fluid you were in the kitchen, as if you were dancing. when he thought you were going to run into a cabinet, you moved away just in time. wether that be for your reflexes or by chance, he wasn’t sure. he had shared with you a couple vinyls, a way of sharing his past with you. he hummed along to the smooth voice of ella fitzgerald, until you interrupted the noise with a yelp of pain. he turned to you, and noticed you had cut your finger with the knife, which confirmed to him that in fact, the reason you didn’t run into cabinets was by chance, maybe some guardian angel working overtime. he kissed your finger, and walked to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. everything was going so well, too. its just a small setback. until, he came back.

you looked to be covered in blood everywhere, with a heavy concentration on your torso. there was a gunshot in your stomach area, and you hunched over the cabinet for support. at least, that is what he saw. in reality, you leaned on the cabinet, waiting for him. his heart dropped and his eyes scanned you so worriedly. he ran to you, inspected your arms, your eyes, your neck, your stomach. your confused expression felt almost like daggers at him, and he started hyperventilating. he felt hands all around him, suffocating him. he knelt to the ground, gasping for air. his hair started clinging to his forehead, his clothes suddenly felt too tight, the air felt too hot, his metal arm too familiar. did he do this? he kept thinking. he heard a voice, his voice, but different. it was him.

“of course you did this.” he said, full of poison. tears fell down his eyes, and they kept falling, even when he shut them so tightly. he clawed at his metal arm, at his reminder of who he was.

you tried your best to make him realize that you were there, and in fact, not dead. no matter your volume, he couldn’t hear you. he was rocking back and forth, and you kneeled to his eyeline.

“bucky?” you kept saying. you kept repeating, kept trying to open his eyes, move his hand from hurting his shoulder. soon, your hands were stained with the blood drawn from where metal met skin. you sat with him, and listened to his cries. you didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t discussed panic attacks with you, so you weren’t sure if you could hold him or not. you decided to take a risk and rub his back, and lean your head on top of his. a few minutes were spent like that, his quiet sobs filling the apartment. eventually, he calmed down enough to the point of hugging you, and whispered “i’m sorry”. that’s all he said, and he kept saying it. his face was nuzzled into your neck, and he kept saying that. your hands held him tightly, your own tears falling as well. he stopped hurting himself, but seeing him in this state broke your heart. you knew why seeing you bleeding affected him so badly. he didn’t often tell you of all the people he killed, but when he did, he was always filled with immense grief. you’d always remind him that it wasn’t really him, and that he didn’t have body autonomy. those words, although comforting, felt like a lie. he was scared you believed differently, thought of him differently. your words and your touch remained the same, though. after his panic subsided, you led him to the sink, and washed his hands. you cleaned his wounds, and wrapped them with gauze. you asked him to stay at your place, and he accepted. you set his bed, and gave him some spare clothing you had. he sat down next to you, and watched you lay down, before looking at you. his blue eyes looked into yours, asking for permission. you held your arms up, and he instantly moved. he laid on top of you, almost tentatively. you ran your fingers through his hair, and he adjusted himself on top of you, holding your waist. no words were exchanged.

you two never spoke of that moment.

don’t modify, every one adores you, at least i do.

three years had passed since you first crossed paths, and he wanted to be the one to initiate the celebration. he didn’t know how surprise you, you two had already done a lot of things. picnics, dinners, sleepovers. he realized he needed to buy a gift. what should he get you? you already had enough jewelry, you always went thrift shopping with him, and you seemed pretty content with everything you had. it clicked in his mind. he got you a photo album for your pictures, and a star projector, showing how the stars looked like on the day you first met. he felt nervous, he hadn’t felt this close to someone in a while, and he was scared to ruin it.

you spent the anniversary gushing over your gift, and kept complimenting him throughout that night. his fears for being a bad friend were eased.

everybody has you up on their wall sometimes.

he wasn’t one for photography. his walls were bare, aside from the decorations you bought for him. you, however, loved your polaroid camera. you took pictures of anything you deemed important, like meeting someone with a similar outfit to yours, a cat you saw on the street, and him. you deemed him important, and he had to pretend like that wasn’t the biggest compliment ever. he had to pretend that every time you snapped a picture of him, he wasn’t blushing so hard, and how he loved being your muse. he started putting more effort into his appearance, so you would take more pictures. you noticed, of course you noticed. you had to keep a solid stream of film. one day, he held your camera. he often wondered how you saw the world, and seeing the little window in the polaroid camera made him smile. you were comically posing in the couch, giggling with every new pose. he clicked away, happily. he then sheepishly asked for a serious picture, for his new collection. well, your picture would be the first in the collection. how fitting, that you would be the one to star in the little joy you shared with him. your face flushed a bit as you sat up and smiled softly at him. he swallowed his nervousness, and took the picture. as he let it develop, he walked away, leaning on the wall. he didn’t want to let you see how red he was. you didn’t know if you were friends or not. of course, you were friends, but you weren’t sure if you were more. you walked to where he was, took the picture from him and placed it on a side table. you grabbed the camera from his hand, and tossed it lightly to your couch. you looked at his lips, his eyes, his scars. you lifted your hand and traced his eyebrows, his nose, his chin, his jawline. his eyes fluttered shut, as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. he pulled you closer, as if you were the air he so desperately needed to breathe, as if you were the water in the middle of the desert. he held you so gently, leaning you against the wall. he leaned his lips towards yours, but didn’t press forward. he just breathed deeply, breathing you in. you looked up at him.

“bucky?” you asked softly, as to not shatter the moment.

“please. you’re all i have ever wanted these three years. i’ve been…you’re…” he couldn’t find the words. he grew a little frustrated at his lack of ways to express himself.

“i love you. from the minute i knew you, from new year’s, every birthday, every anniversary. please, y/n. i need you, like i need air, like i need water, like i need…you.” his eyes looked into yours, waiting for a response in the almost deafening silence.

you leaned forward, kissed him, and were made his that night.

everybody thinks of you when they sleep at night.

he liked waking up next to you. he liked the way your hair ruffled up because of the pillow. he loved the way your eyelashes fluttered when you opened your eyes, and your sleepy smile greeted him.

“good morning, bucky.” you would say.

“dreams?” he’d reply. if you had any dreams, you’d go on in detail about them, and if not, you’d shrug and say,

“my subconscious took the night off.”

he’d tuck your hair behind your ear, and kiss you. how wonderful, that he was able to kiss you, show you how much you meant to him, make you his. how serendipitous, that the first words he ever said to you were “thank you.” fate knew. you knew.

when I say, "everybody", i'm actually referring to mе.

[tkomptgoedluv]

toothpaste kisses.

joost klein x f! reader

request: “could you write a fic with joost x reader where they get intimate and everything is fine and then the reader starts crying, but not because of sadness, but because of how safe the reader feels in their relationship, how loved he makes the reader feel and etc..(just overwhelmed with positive emotions). a lot of angst, but also a lot of fluff, comfort, happiness… like they dont stop being intimate, they continue and its like the best therapy. also aftercare!!!”

tags: f! reader, non-famous! reader, established relationship, literally the most in love two people have ever been, like if twin flames are a thing then it’s them, two freaks get freaky but it’s romantic <3, lil sprinkle of angst, lots of hurt + comfort, even more fluff, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 5,496.

warnings: mentions of past abuse, a very very vauge + brief description of sa, smut, rpf.

notes: hello my lovelies!! i hope you enjoy this one just as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 thank you so so much to the anon who requested it, i hope you don’t mind that i put my own lil spin on it!! and also a big thank you to my gorgeous gorgeous @joosthead for already being this fic’s number #1 fan — i love you my junipoo!! 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

your fingers itched with the urge to rip out your own hair as you felt your stomach twist itself into another knot.

you’d done this to yourself, completely. you’d gotten yourself into a total, utter mess because you’d seen him again, after so many years of trying to pretend that he never even existed at all.

five years ago, you’d been seeing this guy, this absolute asshole of a man, and it had almost been the death of you. as always with guys like him, the first few months had felt dream-like; he was an angel incarnate and yet somehow, he was all yours. the perfect man, heaven sent, and yours.

you had been so sure of it — you were going to marry this guy one day.

but by the time that those rose-tinted glasses of yours had started to fade and you were finally starting to see him for who he truly was, it was too late. you had just moved to a whole new city for him, left your job for him, cut off each and every single one of your friends for him. “they just wanna see us fail, baby.” he’d said, “you’re better off without them.”

and for far too long, you’d believed that. for almost two years, you had put up with his bullshit willingly, because you’d loved him. even after all of those fights he’d started over nothing, all those things of yours that he’d broken because “it’s either that or i give you a fucking black eye or something.”, you still loved him. you only left once he eventually ran out of things to break and staying true to his word, started putting his hands on you instead.

looking back, that was the only promise of his that he’d ever fucking kept.

being without him had made you realise that you actually knew nothing about where you lived now, even though it had already been years by this point. that was why you had gotten so lost that day, that one and only birthday of yours that you’d spent all on your own.

venturing out of that shitty little studio apartment you used to live in had been brave, considering you had no idea where to go or what to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay indoors anymore. knowing you, it should have been a disaster and it honestly almost was, had it not been for that pretty blond stranger you’d stopped for directions. without him, you probably would’ve ended up god knows where.

luckily for you, though, you just wound up in his bed instead, and three years later you were still there. three years later, you’re celebrating your anniversary with him.

there was never any need for those rose-tinted glasses when it came to joost. no excuses or exceptions that you ever had to make for him. there were no more nights spent crying, locked away in your bathroom, far too afraid to come out because you had no idea what he would do if you did. no more days spent laying in bed because you were still far too sore to move after what he’d done to you the night before.

now your entire life is just travelling around the world with someone you never thought could be real, someone who’s talked you down from just a few too many ledges for you to count, determined to undo all of the damage that the guy before him had done. truly, joost was your best friend; the only person you’d ever met with such a pure heart of gold. the absolutely undisputable love of your life.

and he’d done everything possible to make today as special as he could for you, considering it was obviously also your birthday.

every year you tell him the exact same thing; that the day’s just as much about him as it is you, and that he really doesn’t need to make such a big fuss. and every year he never listens, always clearing out the whole day despite how hectic his schedule always is, just so he can make it all about you. one year he even turned down a spot on a festival lineup because the dates clashed and he deemed you far more important.

earlier in the morning, joost had woken you up with an orgasm so strong that you couldn’t walk for the first hour or two that you were awake. as always, he’d carried you to the bathroom after and gotten you all cleaned up, giggling at how your legs were still shaking, and helped you get ready. you’d laughed with him when he insisted on trying to do your makeup for you too, and had then proceeded to somehow get your eyeshadow everywhere.

cleaning up all of your now pink-stained towels had taken a little longer than expected but you still both made it in time to get breakfast at your favourite cafe. you’d had no idea that booking out an entire section of the place, just for the two of you, was even an option, but that’s exactly what he had done.

then it was back to the marketplace where you’d first met, and joost had let you browse every single one of the stalls. he’d bought you every single little thing that had caught your eye, only stopping when neither of you could carry anything anymore. you’d headed home only once the summer air had started to turn colder and spent the entire uber ride back gushing over the silly girl-stitch plushie he’d bought you in secret, just so you could have one to match his own.

in a way, that was kind of what had led to all of this. why you had gotten yourself so worked up, all teary-eyed and in such a state, whilst joost had you pinned down underneath him.

you really hadn’t seen him in years, not since you’d broken up with him, and he’d looked unrecognisable to you as he’d sat down just a few tables away. because that was just your luck, wasn’t it? seeing your ex at the same restaurant joost had taken you out to for dinner, dressed up all nicely in the suit that you had bought him all those years ago.

from that moment on, you’d been stuck with this dark, bitter feeling that had your stomach tied into all of those knots. your fingers itching with that urge to rip out each and every single strand of hair from your scalp. every bite of your ravioli suddenly started to taste off, almost sour, and you really hadn’t wanted to be there anymore.

it wasn’t because you missed him, because of course you didn’t — not even a little bit. you hated him, despised him actually. you couldn’t stand the very thought of him because for as long as you had been with him, he’d put you through hell and then some. it had taken years of therapy to get to this point where you weren’t having so many nightmares about it all anymore.

it was just that seeing him all of a sudden with someone new, a girl that he was absolutely fawning over, it had done something to you. from the corner of your eye you had seen how he was holding her hand on the table, looking at her with so much adoration that you’d realised that not once had he’d ever looked at you like that. not even once, not even at the beginning.

it never should have bothered you as much as it had. from the inside out, like a parasite, it was eating you alive.

and then joost, in the most wonderful way possible, went ahead and made it all so much worse without even meaning to.

because despite how disappointed he was that you so badly wanted to skip dessert, the milk chocolate cheesecake on the menu having already caught his eye, he’d taken you home the moment you’d asked. he’d been so soft with you as he’d helped you out of your dress, slipping the burgundy silk so carefully down your shoulders and holding your hands as you’d stepped out of your heels. he’d picked you up and laid you down on the bed that you shared as though you’d break if he was too rough, and kissed you everywhere that you’d needed him to.

he already knew that something was wrong — had done since the restaurant because more than anything or anyone else, joost knew you. you weren’t one to ever leave a plate half finished and you’d barely made a dent in your pasta. in a blink of an eye you’d gone from all giddy and energetic to solem, only just about managing to keep up with the conversation that you had been the one to start.

you just weren’t yourself anymore and he had no idea why, so whatever it was that was on your mind, he was going to do everything he could to help you forget about it.

and in the end, it was all too much.

the feeling of joost on top of you, weighing you down as he took such good care of you. the way he was being so unbelievably gentle as he fucked you, his strokes slow but still deep enough to hit all of the right spots. how he was holding himself up with one of his hands as the other grasped your hip and pulled you down onto him with every thrust.

at first it had you whining, mewling, and your nails carving straight lines down the skin of his back. you’d been louder than the creaking of the bed-frame, whimpering sweet, dirty sounds right into his ear. he always loved it when you were vocal like that — he’d told you so the very first time he ever had you caged underneath him like this.

but for the past few minutes you’d fallen uncharacteristically quiet, those near-pornographic moans of yours quickly turning into sniffles as tears began to wet your cheeks.

they weren’t the happy kind. they were the tears that people only ever shed when they’re too caught up inside their own heads.

how kind he was being with you, how kind he always is with you, all it did was remind you of just how safe you are with him. that to joost, you’re something so unbelievably precious and worthy of all this warmth. you’d been so silly earlier to get so upset over your ex, so stupid to have let it almost ruin your evening together.

joost had been too distracted to have heard your first couple of cries, too concentrated on watching it slide in and out to have noticed all of the tears spilling out of your eyes. he was a bit of a perv like that; always will be when it comes to you.

but then he lifted his head up, a grin tugging at the very corners of his lips, desperate to see that doe-eyed, cock-drunk look on your face. he wasn’t expecting to see you look so sad of all things, your eyes already all red and watery as you wept. he stilled immediately and moved his hand from your hip up to brush the hair out of his worried eyes.

“hey, what’s the matter? you okay?”

he hoped to hear you laugh then, reassuring him that you were alright and you were just feeling too many good things all at once. he didn’t like that you tried to hide away from him then, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you mumbled a quiet plea for him to keep going, because you were ‘fine’ and he didn’t need to stop.

“honey, no, you’re crying.” as gently as he could, joost pulled out of you and rolled off, leaning back onto his side of the bed. “what’s going on?”

you were sobbing into your hands now, still laying flat on your back with the duvet all bundled up around your waist. there was still so much of you out on display for him but for a reason that you couldn’t quite explain just yet, letting him see you cry like this felt like far too much. even as he gently tried to pry your hands away, you were fighting to keep them there.

“you’re scaring me, baby. what did i do?”

“no no no, jesus, no, you haven’t done anything, i promise.”

only then did you let him see you, not bothering to stop and wipe your eyes before you dragged him back down to you and curled up as far into him as you possibly could. you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you almost entirely on top of him, letting your legs all tangle together with his own. thick fingers raked through your hair as you laid your head down on his sternum, listening to the strong, heavy rhythm of his heartbeat.

“then what is it, schat? what are you feeling right now?”

a small, blubbering giggle came out when you went to speak, a few more of your tears falling and dampening the blonde hairs on his chest.

“i just…i really love you a lot and i don’t always know what to do with that.”

the short pause that followed had you holding your breath, knowing that he wouldn’t but still expecting him to be at least just a little annoyed with you. with how badly you’d spoiled the moment, you wouldn’t blame him if he was.

“damn, i must be a lot better at the boom-boom than i thought.”

joost couldn’t even finish his sentence without laughing and how you groaned at it, nestling your face in the skin between his pecs, turned that laughter into a high-pitched squeaking.

“joost! i’m being serious.”

“i know, honey, i know, i’m sorry — was just trying to lighten the mood.”

you felt his fingers back in your hair, tucking random pieces behind your ears and brushing loose strands away from your eyes. each movement of his was somehow softer than the last until his hands were cradling your jaw and tilting your head up, your chin resting on his chest.

now that you could see how was he looking at you, with stars all in his eyes and an aching smile on his face, you felt your bottom lip start to quiver again.

“you know i love you too, right? so much.”

the noise that you’d made as you tried to nod your head, a quiet “mhm.” mixed with a sudden, sharp hiccup, made joost laugh again. he swiped each of his thumbs along the very tops of your cheekbones, wiping away all of the water that was still trickling down your face. you were yet to look away so you saw how something in his eyes changed and how that soft smile of his waivered.

“so then why all the tears, baby?”

you stiffened, your muscles tensing under his touch as you finally broke and turned your face away. “i saw koen today — back at the restaurant.”

and just like you had joost also froze, because he knew exactly who koen was; knew every last detail about the guy, in fact. he knew that koen was the reason why you hardly slept during the first few months that you were together, those nightmares of yours keeping you awake for far too many days straight. why you used to never really eat anything, either, because he’d conditioned you to believe that it was somehow ‘unattractive’ if you did. joost also knew that koen was the reason why you’d had hand-shaped bruises around your neck that very first day you’d met.

“that’s why i wanted to leave. as soon as i saw him i just…i couldn’t stay there knowing that he’s not rotting in that shithole apartment like i thought he’d be.”

you took a moment to sit up, the duvet falling off your shoulders as you wiped your runny nose on the back of your hand.

“i know it’s stupid, but seeing him there with a girl and the both of them looking so happy, i just, i never thought that he would change, you know? that he could change, because if so then why not for me? why wasn’t i enough to change for?”

joost copied your movements and sat up as well, taking your hand in his just to play with your fingers as he listened to every word.

“but then you happened, like, you’ve been so perfect to me today, just like how you always are, and it made me think about how lucky i am to have you. i should have never, ever cared, not for a second, about whatever the fuck koen’s up to now because i have you and that’s more than i’ll ever fucking deserve. i meant it when i said i was only crying because i love you too much to know what to do with the feeling -”

your little monologue, your sappy, word-vomit rambling was cut short when joost kissed you hard, his hands holding you steady on either side of your face. as gently as he could he guided you to lay back down, your spine meeting the mattress as his silver chain started to dangle in your face.

this was his way of shutting you up because you were doing it again. you were getting so caught up in the little things, so overwhelmed by your feelings, that you were just upsetting yourself, really. and you do that a lot. for good or for bad, you always let yourself feel such big things that it pulls you apart at the seams sometimes.

like that one morning a couple months ago; you saw a mouse on your walk to work. it’s little pink tail was missing, small clumps of it’s grey fur had been ripped out of it’s skin, and it had just been laying there, unmoving. you’d cried so hard over it that you got sent home before you ever made it in.

or like last year, when joost showed you an early demo of ‘last man standing’ and you’d wept in his arms for god knows how long afterwards. everything he expresses in that song the two of you had talked about before, you knew that was exactly how he felt, yet hearing him sing it had felt far more catastrophic.

“mijn meisje, you don’t ever have to do anything, okay? you’re already ‘it’ — you’re my dream girl.”

with a wobbly bottom lip you nodded, only barely holding yourself together as he grinned down at you, each of his hands beside your head, holding himself up.

“i mean it, baby. can i prove it to you?”

you could have melted right then and there. the way he was talking to you, his voice all low and breathy in your ear as he kissed you up and down your jaw, it was making your head spin. you nodded again, running your hands up and down the skin of his sides until he pulled back a little, that silver chain of his hanging in your face again.

“need to hear you say it, schat. we don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

“no no, please. i’m alright, please don’t stop.”

sitting up on his knees, joost took each of your thighs in his grasp and pulled you down closer to him, wrapping one of your legs around his waist and resting the other on his shoulder. with that gentle grin still plastered across his face he held his pinky out towards you and wiggled it, his eyes softening when you giggled.

“okay, but if you change your mind at any point, you gotta promise me -”

“- i promise i’ll say something.” you hooked your pinky around his and squeezed it before bringing his hand up to your mouth, planting a kiss across his knuckles.

you were going to be the death of him one day.

letting your head fall back against the bed, a small moan slipped past your lips when joost pushed himself back inside, easing himself in all slow and steady. he left soft, wet kisses along the skin of your calf and drew small circles on your clit as he quickly found his rhythm again.

it was cruel, really, the way he was moving oh-so painstakingly slow — how he was purposefully going too slow because he knew that it would have you like this. sweat already dripping down the sides of your forehead, handfuls of the white bedsheets in a tight grasp, begging him to give you more as you writhed on his cock.

you were just so sensitive to it all, weren’t you? so reactive to each and every single one of his touches. you didn’t exactly make it hard for him to taunt you like this, for him to keep dragging it in and out with a thumb still rubbing circles on your clit, knowing full well what it was doing to you. joost could see just how wound up you were getting, could feel you trying to pull him in closer by your leg that curved around his hip.

“fuck…you’re…you’re being mean, joostie.”

with that smile still firmly on his face he chuckled and stilled inside of you, moving his hand away from your clit to readjust both of your legs. your ankles were resting on his shoulders now, and the warm palms of his hands were caressing the skin of your shins.

“am i, baby? i’m sorry.” he placed another kiss onto each of your calves, his hands trailing down until they were squeezing your thighs. “how do you want it, baby? tell me.”

every muscle in your body clenched then, as a singular, sharp breath caught in your throat.

“h-harder.”

you felt him start to move again, his hips thrusting at that same, agonisingly slow pace.

“yeah? think you can handle it? think you’re ready for the boom-boom?”

the noise you managed to produce, something in between a snort and a cackle, was unlike anything you had ever made before. joost was in utter stitches over it above you, his head thrown back in laughter as he wheezed, tears welling up in his eyes. in a mere matter of seconds, both of your faces were bright red, your laughs turning silent as the pair of you struggled to breathe.

bringing your legs down and your knees up to your chest you wrapped your arms around your stomach, feeling that tightness in your tummy grow the harder you laughed. with your eyes squeezed shut, you hadn’t seen joost make a reach for his phone — hadn’t seen him snap a quick picture of you all red in the face and smiling, before playing the song on full volume.

he could barely hold himself up as he began to sing along, hiccuping over every other word as he giggled.

“this is my boom-boom; my love and desire!”

“no, no stop — you can’t do this.”

shaking your head, you were trying to push him off of you before he tossed his phone to the side and caught your hands, holding them together and keeping you firmly in your place.

“this is my boom-boom; set it on fire!”

“absolutely not! you can’t…you can’t sing that song whilst you’re still inside of me.”

he pouted, feigning a quiver in his lips. “but i haven’t even gotten to the good part yet!”

you tried to be stern, tried to stare him down with a frown on your face and a furrow in your eyebrows, pulling your hands free to cross your arms over your chest. you tried to pretend to be annoyed, but after a single moment of silence, the both of you broke. all over again, you were laughing hard enough for it to hurt.

making another reach for his phone, joost finally turned the song off as you wiped the last few stray tears of joy away from your eyes. you wrapped your legs back around his hips and pulled him down until you could weave your arms around his neck too, and moaned when he immediately attached his lips to that sweet spot of yours behind your left ear.

“hey.” his voice was quiet, coming out all muffled as he sucked, licked, nipped at the skin of your neck. “think you can give me one more?”

you felt him smile against you as you shuddered, your nails digging their way back into his spine. “make it two.”

you were waiting to hear him say it, some kind of sassy remark about how ‘you should be careful what you wish for’ or something along those lines, when he knocked a breath out of you. with a hand now holding one of your knees back as the other stayed beside your head, holding himself up, he slammed his hips against yours over and over again.

the sounds were obscene. you were biting into his shoulder, whimpering and whining from every thrust as other parts of you squelched around him, sucking him in. there was no begging for him to go any faster this time around, not when he was already pounding himself into you hard enough to have the headboard banging against the wall.

you were close to delirium as your eyes rolled back inside your head, the rest of you falling limp against the bed. the air around you was hot, almost too hot, and joost’s warm breath fanning against your neck really wasn’t helping. with how wonderfully out of it you were, you had to grip onto each one of his biceps just to feel as though you were still in the room.

“how you doing, honey? talk to me.” joost was grinning again, having finally parted from your neck now that he had left behind a dozen heart-shaped spots along your pulse-point. “does it feel good?”

he already knew that it did; he could tell simply by the look on your face. that gorgeous, brainless, cock-drunk look that he had been so, so desperate to see all evening.

you only just about managed to cry out his name, having long forgotten every single other word in your vocabulary. your mind was blank besides that because all you could think, all you could feel, was him. you felt him drop your knee and slip a hand underneath the base of your neck, cradling your head as he gave you no other option than to meet his eyes.

“you still with me?”

you couldn’t answer him — couldn’t form a sentence, couldn’t even nod your head ‘yes’. at first it worried him, made him call out your name as he slowed down just the slightest bit, until he felt it. you were squeezing him tighter than you had been all night, your legs all tensed up and shaking, still locked firmly around his waist.

small, babbling noises fell from your lips as your stomach began to twist itself up into a much different knot than before. the crease in your eyebrows deepened, your eyes widening as you stared back at a beaming joost. something inside of you, something new, was building up, and up, and up, and you were doing everything you could to keep it all in, too scared to find out what would happen if you didn’t.

“no no no, baby, shh, no it’s okay.” joost had seen the fear start to creep its way into your eyes, the corners of your lips start to droop down into a frightened little frown. prying it away from his arm, he took one of your hands in his and laced your fingers with his own, giving your knuckles a sweet kiss and your palm a soft squeeze. “i’ve got you, it’s okay. you can let it go.”

you hesitated; the cramping in your tummy making you wince.

“let it go for me, schat.”

and with a squeal, you did. you let whatever that thing was inside of you snap as you screamed out his name, clutching onto his hand tight enough to have both of your knuckles turn white.

the sheets were sodden from where you had gushed all over his cock. your lower back quickly began to feel all warm and damp the longer that you stayed laying in the puddle of your own mess, your legs twitching and your chest still heaving. you couldn’t hear him over the ringing in your ears but joost was talking to you, whispering gentle, saccharine praises as he smoothed your hair back and away from your eyes.

“i’m so proud of you, mijn meisje. look at you — you did so well for me.”

the best you could do was hum in response, your cheeks all wet again from the tears that you hadn’t even realised were falling. though you still managed a small hiss when joost pulled out of you as carefully as he could, still half-hard and leaking from his swollen, red tip. confused, you grabbed his wrist when he sat up and went to reach for his boxers, immediately shaking your head ‘no’.

“but you haven’t…i promised you one more.”

you were so good to him; honestly a little too good. even after all of that, after you’d just given him the biggest ego boost of his life by doing the hottest thing known to man and squirting all on his cock, you were happy to give him more. you were already starting to doze off as you tried to pull his underwear out of his hands but was still so eager to continue, just so he could get off too.

joost just smiled down at you, holding his boxers out of your reach as he bent down to kiss you, his free hand grasping your jaw as he gave you a big ol’ wet smooch right on your lips.

“hey, don’t worry about that, okay? you’ve already done so much, been so perfect for me. just rest now, baby — you’ve earned it.”

by the time that he finished speaking, your eyes were already fluttering close.

you fought your hardest to stay awake as joost took the chance to stand up, only a slight stumble in his step as he slipped back into his underwear and a random pair of sweatpants. in fact, you were so focused on not falling asleep, you hadn’t even noticed that you’d drifted off until you suddenly felt an arm slip underneath your knees and another under the curve of your back.

you hadn’t been out too long, just long enough for joost to have gotten you all cleaned up. with one of the only towels from earlier that he hadn’t managed to stain with your makeup, he’d wiped up whatever mess remained between your legs and helped you into something a lot more clean and comfortable. despite all of the pairs of cute pyjama sets that you own, he’d decided that his old ‘i (heart) joost klein’ t-shirt and nothing else was better.

how you’d stayed asleep through all of it was a mystery to you, usually you weren’t such a heavy sleeper like that. but it had taken joost picking you up off of the bed, holding you tightly to his chest as he carried you out of the room for you to come back around, your eyes heavy with sleep.

“where are we going?”

you yawned and tried to stretch, whining when you felt just how sore and achy your legs really were.

“we’re gonna go for a nap on the sofa, baby — bed’s too messy to sleep in tonight.”

even with how tired you felt, you still felt a pang in your chest. your sofa wasn’t uncomfortable by any means; it was big enough for most of your friends to all sleep on at once and comfy enough for them to not complain about it the morning after. but still, you’d made a mess. ruined a set of perfectly good sheets, probably stained the perfectly good mattress, too.

“sorry.”

“don’t say you’re sorry, oh my god.” joost wasn’t having any of it. if you hadn't of shut your eyes again, you would’ve seen him glance down at you, absolutely bewildered that you felt the need to apologise for such a thing. “i’m not kidding, don’t even try it.”

the soft cotton of the sofa cushion dipped underneath your weight as he laid you down on it, carefully manoeuvring himself beneath you before pulling one of the blankets down, tucking the both of you in. with his chest as your pillow now, you were already barely conscious when you heard him whisper in your ear, his arms wrapping around the dip of your spine.

“love you, goodnight.”

you were going to have to wait until the morning now to get his full, in-depth explanation as to why it was now his mission to have you do what you did tonight, every night.

“love you too.”

[kenyummy]

so funny trying to see johnny try 2 be nonchalant after saying "special spider" like it was nothing... you are not fooling anyone boy... also wing girl mj?? bless her i love u mary jane.

+ which member of the batfam do you think reader is most likely to 'forgive'? like they dont seem to much like any of them, but who would u say is the least least favorite? -🍎

for your ask; assuming you're talking about spidey as the reader—they're not very inclined to "forgive" any of them, if that makes sense.

they don't really know any of the batfam, they just took the place of an already existing person and is now having to live their (pretty sad) life. while the fam are feeling mountains and loads of guilt for not being there for you, for not protecting you like they should've—

in reality, it was really your fault you were shot in the first place. you sensed the bullet and could've dodged it easily, but then it would've hit the man in front of you, and you couldn't have let that happen. you're just not that type of person

but they don't know that—they think you had just become victim to the evils and horrors of gotham and you need to be coddled so this never happens again!!!

in general, spidey doesn't really feel anything toward the fam. they think they're all pretty big assholes from how they act toward both them and dc!reader (as far as they can tell from the diaries and hundreds upon hundreds of messages left on delivered), but it's not spideys place to forgive them, so they kind of just never will.

and that's what drives them REALLY nuts because they're really trying their hardest and yet its like you want nothing to do with them!!! (you really just donr want to talk to them bc you have bigger problems to worry about; but they don't know that).

they have a soft spot for kids (which will play a part in the future story) and every spider is good with kids, so by default damian would probably be the easiest for spidey to like. (chapter 4 watch out for him hegfhehehe)

HOWEVER if we're talking about dc!reader, it's probably either dick or jason (talking about sibling/parent family, so no babs, steph, kate kane, luke fox etc.) as they did have a very strong bond with them until jason died.

it's less because they did the least to dc!reader and more because they simply just want the love of their two oldest brothers back—still craving the care they used to get that was robbed of them so unfairly.

anddd OMGGG chapter 2 johnny thinks he's slick... he is not!!! everyone and their mother knows... the serial playboy flirt hasn't been serial playboy flirting for the past couple months... and he's been giving this weird spider googly eyes... I wonder... 🤔🤔🤔🤔

he's so whipped for spidey and deep down he knows he is obvious as HELL and he punches himself mentally every time he says something that shows his genuine feelings (he thinks its corny as hell). don't worry, spidey will get it one day!

mj the only wingwoman ever!!! being an unofficial third wheel is just as bad, if not worse, than being an actual one—she's tired of seeing you two pine; just make out already!!! geez, with all those fancy parties you both go to, you'd think a pair would find a storage closet at some point.

THANK YOU SM 🍎🍎🍎🍎 THIS WAS SO FUN TO ANSWER ☆☆☆

[allisluv]

this is a random idea, and you totally dont have to write it if you arent comfortable but could i maybe request a oneshot about reader who sh with finnick and like they havent had sex yet because she doesnt want him to see her scars and its just lots of comfort and really fluffy?

good things come to those who wait.

pairing: finnick o'dair x fem!victor!reader

content warnings: this work contains topics regarding self-harm and scars, however nothing is graphic at all, and this is mainly focused on the comfort aspect of things. finnick is a sweetie pie, pre-established relationship, mentions of sex but nothing intimate, hurt/comfort.

word count: 1.0k

author's note: this is a topic that really hits home with me, and my intentions are never and will never be to offend anyone. my inbox and dm's are always open. this work is purely made to help people feel less alone, not to romanticise any topics covered.

Finnick has always been ever so sweet with you. He has never once made you feel pressured into doing anything you weren’t ready for, and that’s one of the many things that separate him from your past boyfriends. 

You know he would never even think about judging you for the scars on your thighs but no matter how much you reassure yourself that he wouldn’t mind, there is still that tiny voice in the back of your head that says, “What if?”

You’re seven months into your relationship with Finnick when you decide that it’s best you sit him down and have a conversation with him about how youre feeling. Things are starting to get serious and you can tell that despite his gentleness and his patience, he’s beginning to worry that there’s another reason for why you havent slept with him yet. Finnick opened up to you about his sexual trauma in the Capitol pretty early on into your relationship and you don’t want him to worry that you think he’s “broken” or “damaged goods” and that’s why you haven’t slept with each other yet, because that couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

You think Finnick is without a doubt the most handsome man you have ever laid eyes on— but he’s so much more than that, too. Hes considerate and thoughtful and caring and kind and you don’t want to ever make him think he’s not good enough. 

So despite your anxiety, you push through and anxiously wait on the sofa for Finnick to return home from his dip in the ocean. 

Your heart is thudding against your ribcage so fast that you fear it may jump straight out of your chest. The front door opens and shuts before Finnick calls out your name. 

“Im in here!” You shout back, focusing all your effort on keeping your voice steady and calm. 

Finnick peeks his head into the living room and smiles. Two dimples poke into his cheeks, one on either side of his mouth, as he grabs a beach towel off the radiator and starts to dry himself off. He’s caught off guard when you don’t immediately start chastising him for dripping water in the house, and that is the first thing that sends bells off in his head. “Angel? You okay?” 

You suck in a steadying breath and pat the sofa next to you. “Can we talk?” Finnick’s mind starts whirring into overdrive as he worries that you might be breaking this off with him, and you instantly backtrack when you see the panic on his face. “No, no, I’m sorry. Don’t panic, I just need to tell you something. It’s nothing bad, Finnick, I promise.”

He seems to relax a little at your comforting words but his steps are still tentative as he crosses the room and sits down on the sofa next to you. “Alright,” He says warily. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?” 

You swallow the lump in your throat. You know this is going to be an awkward conversation to have, but both you and Finnick agreed that communication was key to maintaining a healthy relationship. You figure you might as well be honest and get this over with. There’s no point in beating around the bush so you come right out and say it as bluntly as possible. “I wanted to talk about why we haven’t had sex yet. I mean, that’s something you want, right?”

Finnick nods reassuringly. “Of course it is but only when you’re ready. I don’t want you feeling pressured into it.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “I want to. God, I really, really want to. I’m just scared.” 

Finnick tilts his head to one side but slowly reaches out to grab your hand. He intertwines your fingers together. “Okay. What are you scared of, angel?”

It takes everything in you not to burst into tears and you have to clear your throat a couple of times before talking aloud. “I have scars. On my thighs.”

Realisation dawns on Finnick but he doesn’t open his mouth to say anything. Instead, he nods to show that he is listening, and squeezes your hand to encourage you to continue. 

“I was going through a really tough time after I won my games. I turned to some… well, less than healthy coping mechanisms. I’m better now. I haven’t done… that, in a good few years. But I still have scars from it.” You take a deep breath, keeping your eyes trained on a spot on the floor in front of you. “I know you wouldn’t judge me but I was just scared that you’d think I was damaged or—”

“Okay, let me stop you there.” Finnick cuts in. His voice is stern but soft. “Angel, some scars don’t scare me, and they certainly don’t make me think you’re anything less than beautiful. All it does is tell me how resilient my girl is. I would never think less of you for this. I need you to know that, alright?” 

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. “No, I know that, I just— I don’t know. I was scared you were gonna leave me.” 

Finnick uses his free hand to smooth your hair off your forehead. “I know, angel, I know,” He murmurs. “Youre not gonna get rid of me that easily, okay? I’m in this for the long haul.” He smiles softly and knocks his shoulder into yours. 

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you finally make eye contact with him. “You’re not saying this just to make me feel better, right?”

Finnick scoffs but his voice is full of affection when he speaks. “Angel, you should know by now that I’m gonna tell you the truth, regardless of if you want to hear it or not.”

You chuckle. “Fair point, well made.” You hesitate. “So, you know, just to clarify, you do want to sleep with me?”

Finnick grins. ��More than anything. But we’re gonna do this at your pace, okay? We’re gonna take it as slow as you need.”

Your lips tug downwards into a frown. “You don’t mind waiting?”

Finnick pecks your forehead. “You know what they say, good things come to those who wait.” He pauses. “And, angel?”

“Mhm?” 

“Scars or not, I still think you’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

[grandline-fics]

Hi can i request a Luffy x fem!reader where the pair are just two dumb idiots together like the reader has a personality like his (overly enthusiastic and optimistic) and they do everything together but they both dont realize that the like eachither (bc again dumb idiots) and the crew works tgt to make them both realize and get them to confess to eachother?

DESCRIPTION: You’re just as clueless as Luffy and the crew have to intervene to make you both realise your feelings

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 1,734

A/N:  Thank you for this request. I honestly didn't know how to make this work in the beginning but I'm happy with how this fell into place. Hopefully you like what I came up with

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

Once upon a time the Strawhat crew believed that their Captain was one of a kind. They took his energetic nature, clear motivation to only do what he wanted as his current mood directed without any thought beyond that, stubbornness, and still unwavering joy in the face of most things as the concoction that could only be Luffy. However they were all collectively shocked when you crash landed into their lives and promptly made them realise that everything that made Luffy his loveable yet exhausting self was also very clearly what made you you too and when you and Luffy first interacted it was like two points finally connecting, never to separate. 

All their adventures before you came along seemed like such a breeze, how naive they had been in those days to consider it difficult to keep up with Luffy’s optimism and spontaneity. After you joined the crew if felt like double the work. It didn’t matter if they had eyes on one of the chaotic pair you two created because without the vigilant supervision over both of you, it only assured a disaster that could have been avoided. It never mattered to you or Luffy because at the end of the day you two would be laughing and telling the drained crew that it had worked out in the end and that there had been nothing to worry about. After a while it wasn’t the lack of thought to the crew and their wants of an easy time on an island to explore that frustrated them, it was the fact that you and Luffy still hadn’t realised you had feelings for each other and continued to act like oblivious morons every single day while also so clearly showing them and anyone else you interacted that you were two idiots in love. 

“They’re doing it on purpose.” Nami muttered one day, arms folded tightly across her chest as she glared at you and Luffy running about the deck of the Sunny, laughing and chasing Chopper without a care in the world. Suddenly Luffy grabbed one of the masts and propelled himself through the air. Chopped managed to dodge but you ended up being the one Luffy tackled loudly onto the ground. There was a beat of silence before the two of you burst out into loud laughter once more, doing nothing to move out of the position you were currently in. “They have to be doing it on purpose. They’re evil geniuses.”

“Don’t give them so much credit. They’re both just blind to how they really feel.” Zoro disagreed from his spot in the shade, opening his good eye to look you and Luffy’s way. “Don’t know how many times the stupid cook and I have brought it up. Luffy just believes he loves them the same way he loves us as his crew.”

“Oh no, that’s a very different kind of love compared to what he feels for us.” Usopp said with a small shake of his head. He supposed that the only reason this whole matter hadn’t been resolved yet was because of your personality. Anyone else would have been more aware of the difference and clear feelings and actually talked things out with their Captain. Everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh of exhaustion and resignation. All of them wishing-more for their own selfish peace of mind more than anything- there was something to be done and help you both realise your feelings.

It wasn’t until a week later that the crew stopped at a new island to relax and enjoy while they waited for the Log Pose to set. While some took to resupplying the ships, others took to exploring. You weren’t exactly annoyed that you hadn’t gone with Luffy, you were just confused at why Usopp and Nami insisted on you joining them on their shopping trip and no one else coming with them. Had they had a fight with some of the others on the crew that you weren’t aware of? You certainly hoped not, you didn’t like the crew fighting amongst themselves. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Nami whispered to Usopp as they remained a couple paces away from you. Operation: Divide and Conquer might have had a good name but the strategy didn’t seem all that good except try and get you to confess to Luffy by either making you jealous or straight up lying. If they couldn’t get through to you, they would try the same tactic with Luffy.

“It has to!” Usopp hissed back, quickly throwing you a nervous smile when you looked over your shoulder with a curious tilt of your shoulder. “Hey let’s go in here!” He called out in a panic, pointing to the closest store. You stopped and shrugged, going along with whatever the sniper wanted. You had nothing to buy on this trip so you were just here for company and fun. Still this wasn’t what you’d thought would be on his or Name’s shopping list.

“Is someone getting married?” You asked, looking around the store filled with elegant gowns, robes and suits. Suddenly your eyes lit up as you hurried to hug Nami and Usopp tightly, so this was why they had insisted on you coming with them. You couldn’t fully understand why they were being so secretive but it didn’t matter given how overcome with happiness for them. “You guys! I’m so happy for you both! Have you told the others?! Are you getting married on the island?” 

“WHAT?! NO! ” Nami blurted out in shock while Usopp could only shriek at the implication. “We’re not getting married!”

“Oh…that’s a shame.” Your smile fell slightly. “I always thought you two made a nice couple. Guess I was wrong. So who is getting married?” You asked, staring intently on your friends who stammered and struggled to think of something. Operation: Divide and Conquer was crashing and burning around them and their brains all but blanked as together they rambled together while you patiently listened. Neither of them really knew what they’d told you or knew if it made any sort of sense but you seemed to accept it and continued with your day with the frazzled pair.

When you returned to the Sunny later that day you went to your usual perch of the railing near Sunny’s head. Silently you thought over what Usopp and Nami told you and were beginning to work it out in your head when Luffy appeared beside you with a bright grin. “Hey, what’s got you so frustrated looking?” He asked, oblivious to the rest of the crew on the deck; all of them pretending to go about their business when they were only making sure they were close enough to hear. 

“I’m thinking about Usopp.” You explained in a dazed tone, absently running your fingers along your bottom lip, deep in thought. Luffy frowned slightly while different sets of eyes glanced Usopp’s way, all confused about what he and Nami did while they were alone with you. “I’m trying to work out this wedding.”

“Usopp’s getting married?” Luffy asked. On the one hand he was happy but on the other hand he thought Usopp would have told him personally. “To who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to work out.” You mumbled before taking a deep breath, deciding to start from the beginning. “Usopp’s enemy wants him to marry their princess to avoid a great battle but he doesn’t want a fight or to get married so he needs to make them think he’s already married so they don’t get angry right? He needs Sanji to cater the wedding, Brook to preform the music, and Zoro to be his bodyguard so they’re out. Nami said because she’s giving Usopp the money for the wedding that’s the only favour she’s doing and won’t marry him as well because that’s not fair. Usopp said he can’t marry Franky or Robin because they’re like his parents and Chopper’s a reindeer and that’s weird. Which leaves us.” 

The more you explained the situation the more Usopp and Nami shrank towards the floor out of despair and embarrassment. Why had you believed that nonsense enough to now relay it to the entire crew who were now looking at them in bafflement. Through it all Luffy hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. He didn’t want Usopp to be forced to be married to someone he didn’t like but it didn’t stop him from quickly turning on his heel and looking to his friend. “Usopp I’ll marry you!”

“You can’t marry me dumbass!” Usopp shouted back making Luffy glare, all but standing in front of you to block you from Usopp’s stare.

“Well you’re not allowed to marry them. So it’s me or the princess.” Luffy told him with defiance in his eyes.

“Why can’t he marry me?” You asked curiously while getting to your feet, watching Luffy blink as he only now considered his fierce sense of protectiveness and possessiveness towards you. 

“Because I don’t want him to?” He suggested with a shrug. “I don’t want you to marry him, I don’t like it.”

“Well I don’t like you being married to Usopp.” You added, voicing your own reluctance and unhappiness at the thought of Luffy marrying…well anyone. There was a silent exchange between you and Luffy as though you were communicating in your own way through a look alone. Together you both grinned with a faint blush creeping across your cheeks as you both whipped your head towards Usopp and declared in unison.  “Usopp you’re marrying the princess.”

While it hadn’t been the grand romantic epiphany the crew had been expecting to witness, they could tell that a shift between you both had occurred. There was something a little more intimate between you both while you both remained your happy, energetic selves. No one on the crew had the heart to tell either of you that Usopp had been completely lying about the arranged marriage so they never mentioned it again. They were however all in agreement that if it ever was brought up it was to be brushed aside and explained as a story Usopp had been thinking of writing and nothing more. But from the looks of things slowly developing between you and Luffy they could all see that it was shaping up to having a happily ever after.  

[lara4eclipze]

𝓢tart a war

— ( �� ) I'm gon' try for you I'll fight for you, go off for you I'll start a war.

lara raj x fem!reader, angst, fluff, rivalry, swearing, cyberbullying, crying(?), comfort, wc [?], tags listed below

dream academy had it's up's and down's, for you and lara though? it was all down, i mean imagine this katseye is at the peak of their career, with touch and debut charting so high - well until hybe decided to drop the documentary

most received praise and got attention for the way they handled training, but fans had a different reaction towards you and lara — during dream academy you and lara were never close

yes you all lived in one house but unlike the rest, you never got along with the older girl — it wasn't anything personal, but it was just something you couldn't pinpoint

episode 7, the very episode where you got confronted about being "lazy", you knew some of the girls didn't feel like you deserved to compete — thinking you should've gone before the other girls

you thought the same, and during that confrontation you apologized and moved on with the rest — after debuting you and lara got closer than ever

maybe it was the fact you two discovered how similar you both are, lara loved music just as much as you did — you enjoyed writing lyrics and so did lara

but that day the documentary dropped numerous comments, videos, and posts made about you, titles such as "lazy queen" or "undeserving" were thrown at you, lara received hate too for her reaction to you not greeting her — getting dubbed as a bully

during this time katseye was on their asia tour, specifically the next stop was manila, backstage a few hours before the peformance you were reading comments even though sophia already told you it meant nothing

you wanted to stop — yet you couldn't, the more you read the more you start to think you did not deserve to be in this group

it wasn't like you were untalented but seeing how people thought and spoke about your lack of stage presence even comparing you to past contestants, hurt and it slowly gnawed at you, maybe you did not deserve this, did you steal someone's chance?

you lock the comfort room door, hunched over the toilet seat as you keep scrolling on your phone, endless reading — everything was silent to you at this point — your eyes got watery seeing the hate you got, you wanted this right? then why can't you handle it?

you try to quiet your sobs, looking down as you wipe profusely yet tears keep flowing like it was a waterfall, what hurt you the most was the hate lara got, she didn't deserve it at least not as much as you do

"y/n? are you there hun?" lara carefully asks through the door, you unlock it quickly covering your face with your hands, "yes! l-lara" you stutter as you force to stop sobbing

the desi girl quickly ran up to you, cupping your face as she asks concerned as to why you were crying, "baby why??, you know i hate to see you cry" lara frowns as you just stutter over every thing you said

the older girl looks down at your hand seeing the phone open — you were reading some comments, she quickly swipes the phone off your hand closing and deleting every comment under your post

lara wanted to scold you — to tell you it didn't matter, but seeing you so affected by these statements stabbed her — it was like someone twisted the knife

"i should've not just done that" you sob as lara held your head to her chest "i should've greeted you but i was so fucking stupid" you mutter

"we had our problems but we overcome it together — you do not need to shoulder all this hate, I'm always here for you" lara's soft voice a lullaby to you

"love it holds responsibility, my responsibility is to make sure you feel loved by me, no one else matters y/n — you don't need to read those" lara mutters as she kisses the top of your head

"it's just that you dont deserve it too" you whisper — lara seem to not budge and only kept comforting you "we both don't, that doesn't mean it'll stop" she responds

its fucked up, fucked up that lara had to experience this, fucked up that she has to stay strong through it cause its obvious you can't

"i want it to" you respond as she craddles you, slowly calming you down, "we can't make it stop, but I'll be here through all that with you — okay y/n?" lara says, and you nod

you two walk back into the dressing room, wearing the set performance clothing and testing the mics and ear fittings, lara held your hand squeezing it every now and then to make sure your okay

the place was loud and bright — people shouted and chanted katseye and member names — finally walking out cheers erupted — the mall was much fuller than you expected which only lightened up your mood

after performing three songs it was finally time to leave, you felt so successful that you couldn't help but cry, daniela noticed and hugged you right away as the rest of the katz bowed and hugged eachother

"thank you everyone!" sophia says as you all walk back to the backstage

maybe you weren't meant to be the greatest artist there is, that doesnt mean that you should always let others put yourself down

and whatever the problem is, lara will always be there for you, no matter what happens

also pic taken by me!! i miss katseye sm bru :((

[angelicenjolras]

A lot of the time ill see art of Enjolras that depicts him as the sun god apollo, and while of course i know why that is, with the blonde hair, looking young, and, at lest symbolically, being the light, i really dont see much similarity between the two other then those points. in truth, i think the Titan god prometheus is much more alike to Enjolras then apollo.

Prometheus was a titan, a higher being. And instead of "obying" zeus, who dosnt want the mortal to have fire, he defy him, and steals fire for humanity, because he wanted humans life to improve. For that he was subjected to eternal punishment. He could of just did nothing and obey zeus, avoiding his punishment, but he loves the people, they are his creations, and so he went to bring them fire. You can view Prometheus myth as a means of humanity progress, and challenging authority, rebelling

Enjolras was born in a welthey family, yet he sacrifices that comfortable living to lead a rebellion, to fight for the lower class. Enjolras lover is france and its people, its his mother and so he inherits the fight for injustice. He dies for the fight,He becomes this beacon of light for the cause, in a way he "lives forever", because as long as theres a resone to fight for progress, there will always be someone like enjolras, if that makes sense.

Both characters are able to live a comfortable life, but they rebel for humanity sake, for humans to progress into a better society. They both are a beacon of light, they bring hope to humans.

I dont know how else to end this and i dont know if this makes any sense LOL i just like greek mythology and les mis and wanted to talk about this.

[vacayisland]

Hiii I saw that you were still doing requests so I was wondering if you could do a John Dory x Reader van life fanfic?

I dont have anything particular to ask for just a little story of how it would be like to live with JD in Rhonda and have a simple life after all of the events that happened with Floyd and stuff :)

@!; "Put on Pants!" John Dory / Reader

"Summary"! You love JD, you really do... but at this point, you're about two seconds from slapping his pants in his face if he won't put them on!... and this is exactly how your mornings always start with your husband <3 "Tags"! Fluff and a dumb plot I made with my friend for a goofy story. Also I'm very very sleepy while writing this <3 I was also being silly, I need to have fun writing <3 @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen

@!; You loved John Dory, you really did. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have married him all those years ago, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have put up with his weird antics or his little shenanigans, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have left your old life behind to start a new one with him, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be here right now arguing about him and his pants! It was a very odd argument, not even an argument more like a back and forth bicker, about John Dory refusing to wear his pants inside of the house. Not only not his pants, but his shirt as well! Now, granted, you understood where he came from. It’s his house as well, you both lived in Rhonda after all, and he did live here first, but you also lived here! And not to get you wrong, you could stare at the site of your husband, nearly, butt naked for hours on end yet… there comes to a point where the pants need to go on. If no one is coming over, JD is walking around in nothing other than his boxers and goggles. Sure he’ll put on pants and the vest you got him if he has to go out. But as soon as he gets home? Somehow all of that disappears and he’s left in his boxers, which both baffles and amazes you. How he even manages to basically strip that fast, you aren’t even sure. All you know is that you’re slightly fed up with seeing him in boxers for a majority of your day.

“Babe,” You tried explaining to JD without laughing, knowing this was just plain ridiculous. Though, seeing as your husband just walked out of your shared room for the umteenth time in nothing but boxers, you had to bring it up. Again. “You need to put on pants, you can’t just walk out here in boxers! We have a window. Multiple windows! And none of them are tinted.” “Our house.” Was the only grumble you got from your half-asleep husband, who was brushing his teeth all the while trying to make coffee. He wasn’t actually exactly brushing his teeth, as the toothbrush hung from his mouth, likely forgotten as JD began to warm the cafetera on the stop top. It was also hard to keep a straight face when JD was wearing his red heart boxers, “Ay dios mio, John Dory! Put on your damn pants, no one wants to see your nearly naked ass walking around our camper! Por favor.” You pleaded, slips of giggles escaped your lips as you tried to calm your giggles by rubbing your face. But it was truly no use when you glanced back up at your husband. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, and the widest smirk on his face. He looked a little goofy, seeing as his toothbrush was still hanging out of his mouth, but you could tell what his next words were. It was going to be a quip, a flirtatious one of that. It was one he usually used to end this pants conversation, knowing it got you flustered or flabbergasted or just plain over him enough to stop your pursuit. You loved JD so much, but whenever he says: “Aw come on babe, you know you love the sight,” You wanted to strangle him! “I would love the sight even more if my husband would put on his damn pants!” You shot back, not being able to contain your laughter as JD began to playfully wiggle his eyebrows at you. With a shake of your head, you covered your face in your hands and sunk down on the couch melodramatically. God this man is going to be the death of you and he knew it.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[tiiernosdesvelos]

GO FOR IT, FUSHIGURO ! +_+

1097 words 𓆏 gn! reader fluff, cursing, no use of capital letters.

megumi had a big fat crush for you. and the idiot didn't even notice until nobara pointed it out.

''i don't know...'' fushiguro mumbled as sank into the couch ''everytime I see them i feel...nauseous, as if there's something on my stomach'' he closed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest ''those are called butterflies, you dumbass'' kugisaki's voice rang from the kitchen, as she finished cooking her breakfast ''hey!'' megumi frowned ''those cannot be butterflies, y/n is my friend'' he protested against nobara's teasing before quickly being cut off by her, yet again 'yeah, a friend you have a big fat crush on.' she sat on the dining table, in a way she could be seen by megumi and yuji who were on the living room across, as the first cheeks grew crimson.

''i dont wanna agree but, nobara's onto something, actually'' yuji chimed leaning forward on his seat towards fushiguro, who covered his face with one arm, shifting in the sofa ''well, even if i did like them, the fuck would i do about it?'' the black haired one exclaimed in annoyance. he had known you since he entered jujutsu tech, you've always been friends, but lately, something had changed. whenever he saw you he felt a fever incoming, he felt his hands trembling and and something similar to a wave of nausea, what is wrong with you he thought, all of a sudden things were just different around you, or even at the thought of you. he couldn't shake you off his mind, but yet, he did not feel so good around you, physically.

''tell them.'' nobara and itadori chimed in unison. and all of a sudden fushiguro's face flushed hot, quickly sitting up and shaking his hands ''no, no...i cant do that, were just friends and what if...'' he trailed off, his words becoming more of a ramble to himself. because, to be honest, he has thought about telling you, he has thought about it a lot, megumi already had every single scenario meticulously organized from bad to worst in his head, in his mind there's no way you like him.

''oh my god, fushiguro can you shut the fuck up? y/n likes you, i would know.'' nobara argued, taking another bite of her waffles. ''just go for it, fushiguro'' yuji encouraged, standing up next to him, tapping his shoulder ''and if they reject you, we can cry together'' he reassured.

''i won't cry'' megumi rolled his eyes.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

''how did i agree to this?'' he thought to himself and sighed, bouquet in one hand, chocolates in another. someway, somehow, kugisaki and itadori brought him into this. ''maybe i should just text them, tell them it was nothing...''

the three of them had organized a perfect plan for fushiguro to confess, at the end of the day, you and megumi would meet up in an empty classroom under the excuse of having a plan to prank nobara (she did not agree to that). and as the sun set, he would tell them everything he felt, they even wrote script which took hours to complete since fushiguro wasn't exactly fond off his friends teasing him for his feelings for you. nobara and maki managed to discover your favorite flowers, and itadori interrogated you about the food and specially sweets you liked, saying one day he'll invite you out to eat. the plan was perfect, totally foolproof, except for one detail.

megumi's heart was pounding in his chest, cold sweat down his face, his cheeks kept getting hotter each step he took towards the classroom you two would be meeting in, his mind was going a hundred miles per hour. until he stood in front of that door. he suddenly forgot about everything he was thinking about, his mind going totally blank.

he silently opened the door, and closed it behind him as he made his way over you, holding the flowers and the chocolate box behind his back, quickly going over everything he wanted to tell you. ''y/n'' he said in his usual, stoic tone, giving no signs of nervousness or doubt. you turned around, facing him. good lord. just in that moment, he totally processed why he liked you, the way the sunset hit you skin, your eyes, your hair, it was simply perfect. and the way you spoke to him, always so nice and sweet, can a man ask for more?

''fushiguro!'' you smiled so brightly when you looked at him, there's no question of why he loved you.

he took a deep breath at his own lack of words, flushing at your sight.

''is everything goo-''

''i love you''

''what?'' you softly stuttered

''i always had, i... i planned this for you and...'' he stumbled over his words, forgetting the whole script he had planned and bringing both his hands closed to his chest as he held your flowers and chocolates. ''its not going how i planned to'' he finished, looking at you, almost vulnerable as he poured his heart out.

'' fushi, i...'' you found yourself blushing as you stared at him in surprise

''this is your you'' he extended his arms, offering the gifts, you gladly accepted them

''i thought you were avoiding me.'' you stated taking the gifts with both your hands ''i thought i did something wrong''

he opened his eyes wide, fuck.

he took a deep breath, thinking how he could explain it to you, i love you so much it makes me sick didn't seem like the best option right now.

''i'm an idiot y/n, i'm an idiot that didn't want to accept how much he like you'' he stated, putting his brows together as he leaned in closer to you, the sunset making his eyes shine ''i did avoid you, i didn't know how to...react to my feelings so i...i'm sorry, im stupid'' he shifted his eyes towards the floor, now avoiding your sweet gaze

''i...love you too, idiot'' you said, smiling to yourself, managing to get a gasp out of him. you placed the box and the flowers in a desk, and stepping closer to him, you cupped his face with both of your hands, making him look at you ''you're really stupid, but its a part of why i like you so much'' you laughed, making you touch your foreheads

megumi closed his eyes and took each wrist on his hands lovingly ''are you not mad at me'' he mumbled after some seconds ''i couldn't be'' you answered softly.

''can i be your boyfriend?''

''i would be glad to accept you as my boyfriend''

haaiii:3 this is kinda risky to post since is my first writing post, but fuck it im doing it. also, im sorry if anything i write sounds kinda weird or out of place, english is not my first language and it was just kinda implanted into my brain in 6th grade so i never truly 'learned'.

anyways, i hope you liked it !11!!!1!

-kat / gumi :3

[ganondoodle]

saw a few posts talking about ganondorf and while i dont want to uh .. risk having to argue with strangers ... i cant shut up entirely (you know me)

(in my opinion that is probably missing alot or just not as well read as a lot of others since i really just say what i feel instead of knowing what im talking about-)

its kinda hard to really talk about him bc hes so .... steeped into tired old stereotypes and harmful tropes with intentionally so little else, if anything, that you almost always end up playing into them if you just take what canon tells you (and alot of people love defending it too :/ )

to what degree is it really his character and what is literally just some things that were decided he does to make it clear hes the one note evil guy, to justify whatever horror is done to him and overshadow/bury what anyone else has done, to not think about maybe he had a point bc look how much bad stuff he does! if you made him fight for the freedom/sovereignity of his own people against an oppressive hyrule he would be in the right- so ACTUALLY he opresses them violently and selfishly even WORSE and then wants to murder everyone tm that dont bow to him bc thats what evil people do! and hyrule is justified in taking them over in turn bc their rule wont opress them :)

its like a game of trying to one up whatever hyrule did with something more bad tm bc otherwise it gets hard to justify killing him over and over

im not saying hes not allowed to be prideful, selfish or violent of whatever, but you gotta know that all of that IS one of those ways that is supposed to make it clear how evil tm the desert guy is; it doesnt matter what hyrule has done bc look! ganondorf is so much worse! and im sure hyrule had their reasons :)

hes never actually allowed to interact with his own people, hes isolated/alienated from them and their culture constantly, hes their king yet he .... violently takes over "free" gerudo villages (what? what for?? what does "free" even mean? they werent following him? their king?? were they .. allied with hyrule, who are good tm, which means they were living in paradise aka "free"? (bc they are good ones tm bc they rejected their evil one in a hundred year man king ruling violently over only women .. *cough*)), yet hes never seen fighting alongside his own people (the most is them .. silently serving him in what, one scene??) and then he drops them the second he has evil MONSTERS to fight for him instead and orders them to kill every living thing or something bc thats obviously evil, he doesnt even care about his own people! how evil! why would he do that? idk, hes the sole, selfish violent evil man opressing his own people, who are all women! that what they do! and WE need to free them from HIM (and they should be thankful to us for it and try to attone for ever having birthed him in the first place) (or he is the reason tm why they suffered/were wiped out and he is literally the sole survivor of his people, bc he doesnt care about ANYONE but himself)

i dont mean he has to be a goody two shoes character (you can be an ass and still do good/be in the right btw) bc more often than not what that actually means is being allied with hyrule bc those are the designated good guys and being on their side makes you automatically good (eugh) but do you rly want to just ... play along with all the propaganda?

imo, aside from being obviously racist, thats also so boring? does selfish, violent evil man king with no people (bc hes not part of them or fighting for them, hes always presented as the worse oppressor) and nothing else to him that only wants to murder bc ... idk evil? sound interesting to you? (to the point that the ONLY time we were shown literally any sort of vunerabillity, end of ww, that theres people trying to argue he was trying to to manipulate you even there?? what for? why? are you trying to reject literally the one glimpse we are allowed into his perspective qoq)

why do alot of people reject the idea so much to consider he actually cared about them, how maybe that prideful and selfish look is just a facade, or even a fabrication? violence that had to be met with violence, not for any sort of selfish reasons, but for his people and was met with a fight he could not win yet kept fighting on, perhaps losing himself more and more in the process, or a lie told so often that it became reality, if someone has nothign left to lose, if all was taken from them, maybe even blamed on them, why not play into what you where made out to be, you cant convince them otherwise anyway its the reason hes never shown to have done a single nice thing, never seen non angry/smug smiling, how he has no one at his side unless he forced them, how he is not allowed to be human even a little bit, never shown being anything but a boring ass trope personified, hes less a character and more a big bundle of racist tropes that fights you at the end (sorry) while looking epic so trying to meaningfully analyze him just by what we are told and shown in canon will always fall kinda flat or end up playing righ into every shitty trope

that is my opinion :I

[pleasantphantomhologram]

"Please, don't stay sad for too long, okay? I'll be here waiting for you, supporting you through everything. I love you, always"

Title: longing (Part 2) (Previous chapter)

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Reader

Warning: Modern Setting, Fertility problem, Angst, Hurt. 

Summary: After the surgery, you can't help but felt sorry for yourself. how can a woman cant give her husband a kids? But, your husband, Acacius is there hugging you and saying that everything will be alright.

A/N: Hello! it's me again, and happy christmas everyone, here's a gift for me from this holiday. I think i will write so much on this holiday, coz i dont know when will i get my day off again after this holiday, LOL! Enjoy!

After the surgery, the intense pain and aching you'd been feeling all this time vanished, along with your hopes of having a child. That day, you and Acacius had just arrived home after three days in the hospital. The doctor had said you needed another checkup in a week to examine the stitches on your lower abdomen.

Your home with Acacius wasn't big or small, just the right size for a newlywed couple like you. There was a master bedroom and a spare room that you had planned as a nursery for your future child. You hadn't done anything to it yet, but whenever you had free time together, you'd talk about the room. Acacius would always joke about painting it pink if you had a girl.

You opened the door to the room slowly and looked sadly at each corner of the room, which still only contained an unmade bed. You sat on the edge of the bed and ran your hand over the mattress.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, followed by a small sob. No matter how hard you tried to be strong and accept reality, the fact that you couldn't give your husband a child made you feel useless and worthless. What kind of wife couldn't give her husband a child? What was the point of being a woman if you couldn't have children?

You started blaming yourself for everything. You should have taken better care of your health in college; you should have been more careful about what you ate. It was all your fault. Your tears flowed faster, as if something were piercing your heart every time you thought about it. Without realizing it, Marcus came into the room and hugged you tightly.

'It's alright, it's alright. Take a deep breath, babe,' he said. 'I... I... I'm sorry,' you sobbed. 'There's nothing to be sorry for, Y/N. I love you. And that's the only thing that matters,' Acacius said. 'It's okay to be sad now, I know you're feeling so depressed. But I'm here, I'll always be here.'

'I'm so sorry, you married a woman who can't give you a child. You deserve so much better than me.' Hearing Y/N's words, Acacius' heart ached. She shouldn't say that. From the beginning, he had chosen to be with her, not because of that, but because he loved her. He couldn't imagine his life without her.

'No, don't you dare say that again. You're the one I chose, not because of that, but because it's you, Y/N. I can't live without you. I love every day with you, I love every laugh, every smile. Even when you're upset or angry, I accept all of you. All I want is for us to be happy together, in this house, maybe with a cat or two. I know you love those furry little creatures, and maybe we'll adopt a couple later. Please, don't stay sad for too long, okay? I'll be here waiting for you, supporting you through everything. I love you, always.'

Hearing Acacius' words, Y/N could only hug her husband tightly. She was so lucky to have him.

'I love you too,' she whispered. Acacius smiled and wiped away her tears.

'So, what name do you want to give the cats?' Acacius asked, trying to lighten the mood while still smiling at his wife.

Finally, slowly, the tears turned into a small smile. They might not know what the future held, but one thing was certain: everything would be okay as long as they were together.

[kaceythecrunch]

RANT. (sturntok.)

Yall. Im so mad. Sturntok pisses me the fuck off to the point it isn't even funny anymore. This might be messy, so bare with me.

Tara. Why the fuck is everyone pressed about Tara hanging out with the triplet, specifically matt and Chris. Yall are acting as if it was only two of them, like they're on a date. They were with fucking I don't know, 8 other people? Like why does Sturntok care who they hangout with? Did you not learn from elementary school to mind your bees wax, or business? You're probably 15. They're literally 5 years older than you. There is no way, in any universe they're gonna date you girl. ALSO TO SHIT ON TARA?? LIKE GIRL. FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO SHIT ON CUZ HOMEGIRL DONT CARE. SHE DONT CARE. SHE IS STRIVING AND LIVING LIFE LIKE YOU SHOULD GIRL. Live life and don't care. You'll probably have a positive outcome. No cuz y'all know how Chris owns the Saturn necklace thing? Its vivienne underwood. It's less than 20 bucks on Amazon. Also when was the last time y'all saw Chris wearing that necklace girl. Also there's a post from like months, or I think a year ago of Tara wearing the same necklace. These fucking tiktok girls are so annoying. Like we get it, everyone wants to be Tara. (she's my gf.)

Podcast. I saw a bunch of btiches shit on the podcast. Like cmon. THEY ARE PRODUCING AN HOUR LONG VIDEO FOR YALL EVERY WEEK. Mfs are burnt out, you're lucky that they even produce content for you ungreatful hoes. Like lwk, I'd rather have them remove Wednesday videos. I remember when they first started their podcast that they were really excited to start and stuff. I also remember, I believe it was their earlier vlogs. When they were still living in Boston and they haven't like went to LA yet, they were talking about turning their basement into a podcast room. Like cmon. This is something they've been wanting to do and you hoes just don't appreciate anything. Like have y'all's mama's not been pissed at y'all for not appreciating her food. Live life positive and not negative tf. But ofc, I respect their decision.

Intro. Yall just love to shit on everyone. Ruining the party. Sturntok reminds me of the kids-the class "clowns" who would be so shitty to the teacher for no reason and would ruin fun things for everyone. Like guys, I think we should all as a community bully Sturntok. It requires a bit more bullying, just to knock some sense into their heads. Anyways, back to what I was ranting about. I loved their new intro. its a new era. A new them. Change. Is. Fucking. hard. I understand that you love the teens from Boston running around making fools of themselves. Me too, I shall admit it. But in order to get sponsorships, to get the little paring things. (For example, them sponsoring Celsius, even becoming the youtooz thing.) Like they gotta act more professional.

Change. This tied in with the last few things. CHANGE IS HARD. CHANGE IS A DIFFICULT THING. But how the fuck are you gonna live life, and enjoy life when your stuck on one thing forever. Change is needed for growth, and for learning. Like guys, THEYRE 20. I think that's something y'all forget. They aren't teenagers anymore. Its kinda like how when everyone went into middle school and started to not like kiddy things when you still liked kiddy things. When I was in middle school I still like to play with Legos, draw, watch anime. Until I hit 7th grade, aka everyone's downfall. I still enjoy some of those things today but I changed because people in middle school stopped like those things and its embarrassing (well for me at least) to show up in school with anime shirts cuz I'm getting older. Thats what they're feeling I guess. Again, theyre 20 now.

Crazy ass mfs. Crazy, as in them soft mf's on sturntok. Also what pisses me off more is that they're coming here on tumblr. Like no, I know your soft ass belongs on Wattpad bffr. I have a long rant about this one, so bare with me again. They are so so so so so SOOOOO sensitive about the "spicy edits." Sometimes the fucking video frame isn't even about something "spicy" aka- them being shirtless, video frame near their crotch. It was when there was a song about sex. How soft can you be. Most songs these days are about sex. Some songs y'all probably didn't know about was about sex. (cake by the ocean for example.) LIKE LETS ME FOR REAL. MOST SONGS ARE ABOUT SEX. Also with the tiktok audios being removed like cmon. Not everything is about sunshine and rainbows. I remember I commented on a Chris edit and I was like.

"I need this man in my life. He's so hot."

"you're fucking gross. He's a human being and do you know how grossed out he would be if he saw that you said this? (bullshitbullshit,morebullshitandstupidness.)"

Yeah, keeping fucking running your mouth. THIS TIKTOK HAS LIKE 4K VIEWS. DO YOU WANNA KNOW HOW MUCH FUCKING FOLLOWERS THE TRIPLETS HAVE? YEAH. THAT'S NOT EVEN A QUARTER OF WHAT THEY HAVE. THIS VIDEO HAS 1K COMMENTS. ARE THEY FUCKING HUNTING ME DOWN?? MY COMMENT HAS 3 LIKES. WHY WOULD THEY CARE TO FUCKING CHECK GIRL. ITS ALSO TELLING THE FUCKING PERSON WHO EDITED THIS THAT THIS EDIT WAS FIRE AND THAT THEY MADE THE EDIT HELLA GOOD. UR FUCKING LUCKY I KEPT MY ANGER TO MYSELF CUZ OH GIRL. I WOULD SUCKER PUNCH YOU. You know whats also funny? They're the same people who will be pissed with when they see matt or Chris with a female. Like girl. You're calling me fucking gross? Do you think how much more worse that is than my comment? You ruin friendships. OG sturniolo fans know that they've been friends with girls. If you genuinely care, yall would know that nick made most of matt and chris' friends. Meaning most of them were females. SO OBVIOUSLY THEYRE GONNA HAVE GIRL FRIENDS. I remember watching the Zach sang pod when nick was on and he explained that matt usually doesn't make the friends. Theres a joke where matt says "I'm gonna make a friend that wasn't originally nick's friends." smth like that. Anyways, off topic. Just because they are seen with a girl, doesn't mean they are fucking dating them. Like shut the fuck up. please. Respectfully shut the fuck because I'm a nice person. Also Chris gives off major virgin vibes lets bffr.

Madi. Yall hate so bad on Madi and its fucking grossing me out. Why do you have to ship her with matt and chris??? Literally to the point they can't even put her in photo dumps or videos. You just gotta ruin it for everyone, huh? shes fucking gorgeous, and she's so funny in videos. Plus, when she does talk shes hillarious. She literally reminds me of Matt. She doesn't fucking talk much because she is more of a listener.. Like guys bffr. How can you hate her when she barley spoke in videos. Like respectfully, shut the fuck up. Yall just jealous shes pretty.

Calling Nick fine. I also hate them mfs who are always running their mouth about girls calling Nick fine. Lets bffr. Y'all didn't think a gay guy is fine? I'm sure you've had a crush on one gay person before. And if you haven't trust me. You will. I had a crush on my gay friend in 8th grade. I feel like its a canon even in every girl's life. anyways, I hate when girls will be scared to call nick hot.

"Nick is so fine. But like as a cool guy friend way. Please don't attack me."

POOR GIRL BELIEVES SHE IS GONNA BE ATTACKED IF SHE CALLS A GAY MAN FINE. Sturntok leave her the fuck alone. He's hot as fucking and I will kill civilians if I'm not given more nick edits. He's so fine. Literally the hottest triplet.

If u made it here thanks. There was shit on my chest that I really needed to let out. What have we learned today?

Sturntok can suck my fucking dick.

Thanks goodbye.

Me to Sturntok :

[firefly--bright]

unearthed.

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern a.u., buzzfeed unsolved a.u.

summary ; you dont know just how many watchful souls listen to you and jean speak, waiting, watching. maybe it's just you, but the prison air feels warmer. warnings ; mentions of violence, a little horror (? literally just the tiniest bit), talks of death. cringe humor. a/n ; happy halloween my beloveds. crazy that halloween and diwali were on the same day. kinda poetic lowkey. im DEAD TIRED so ykw that means! happy fireflyfic day! (and happy diwali to those who celebrate :)) taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @happxme , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kivernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes , @gojo-ana , @ppushable , @zombiefiedskeivy

masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist! ✿

The prison wasnt eerie, which should’ve struck you as concerning. 

No, rather, the opposite, the fact that it was a little too comfortable, a little too lived-in to be considered ghostly was what you found…weird. Or maybe it was jean’s presence next to yours, the coldness of the air masked by his warmth and stolen jacket perched over your shoulders that made the air feel a little more breathable.

Connie and marco are huddled over the camera, speaking in hushed whispers - some technical jargon that your brain is too tired to recognize. 

Jean shifted from beside you, adjusting his own coat - not stolen - and thumbed the straps over his chest that snuggly held a smaller camera so it fit better over him. He cleared his throat when he caught you zoning out, “know your lines?” he asked, a prompt for you to speak your mind. 

You smiled cheekily, looking at him under the dim, sole flashlight. “By heart. Scared, jean-boy?” 

“Dont call me that on camera, please,” he says, eyes screwing shut when you shine your light straight into them. 

“Have i ever embarrassed you? You do that to yourself more than i do,” “okay that’s…intentional. It helps with the character im going for.” you snort. “Damsel in distress?” he scoffs, “i had to save you last time, remember?” “that was just an excuse for you to hold my hand, you can admit it. The cameras arent rolling yet,” you tease, bumping your shoe with his worn-out converses. He lets you. There isnt much he doesnt let you do to him. 

“Alright, cameras are gonna start in three…two.. One!” marco’s voice is characteristically calming, even at a higher pitch.

 

Your shoulders stand straighter as you look into the lens, placing the flashlight right under your chin. “hello, watchers! Welcome back to another episode of Unearth - a series where we try to gather evidence of the paranormal to see who wins - a believer,” you say, pointing the light under jeans chin briefly before settling it back under yours, “or a skeptic.” “it’s not a competition,” “right. Of course not.” you say, winking into the camera. Its jean’s turn to speak, his voice a low baritone, and you can see his breath becoming foggy into the now november air. “We are here today at the Marley Prison, rumored to be the host of seventy percent of the state’s most wanted criminals since the early eighteen hundred's. And we’re standing infront of it now and it’s fucking creepy,” “right, and it was also incredibly overcrowded, so-” “-so just, a terrible place to live in.” “yeah, but they killed people,” “...right. Most of them.” “i’ve heard it smells like shit,” you say, almost forgetting that this might get broadcasted, but jean’s eyes on you seemed to have that effect. forgetting the size of your own beating hear, forgetting where you were, melting away any proof of life except his.

He smirks, looking straight at the camera once more. “Right, that’s why i have-” he pulls out a small spray bottle. From what you could read, the text flashed, “FLOWER POWER!” and your smile turned into a laugh. “- this air freshener right here.” “right. That’ll protect us.” “if i get possessed i’d want.. It to smell, like-” “-like flower power-” “right.” now the both of you are laughing, shoulders shaking.

“Great. Let’s head inside, guys,” marco says, smile on his face, and eren puts the camera down to view what he had gathered. 

“After you,” jean says, his shoes scruffing against the harsh stones underneath, spreading his arm infront of you as a guide.

“Pussy,” you muttered, making him sputter.

-

“Alright,” you say, settling on the cold hard ground. Cell number 509, holding the last inmate of the entire prison who passed away in the very same, cramped room. Only a mattress and a sink to keep him company, a small, hand-sized window on the wall opposite to the door, meant to be locked at all times. 

“Dangerous people in this place,” you say, mostly to yourself. Your partner was on the ground floor of the vicinity, in another building entirely, investigating by himself. You decided to split up to see if that might spite any spirits to act, planning on asking questions to the different people that were barely alive, living in the space so freely disturbed. The camera crew were also downstairs, waiting on the two of you to be done. All you had was an old walkie-talkie that connected to jean’s. 

“You there?” his voice - filled with static and concern - reaches the confines of the prison cell. “Yep. where are you?” you ask, sitting in the middle of the floor, pulling your knees up to your chest, your flashlight flickering. “Im at the uh… that punishment place.” “ah. Im in Dean Cooper’s cell.” “oh,” he says. “Why dont we just use our phones for this part?” he asks, a beep following him. You smile. “I dont know, actually. Do you- should we?” “yeah that’d be.. I mean, better communication. Audio..quality - there are so many bugs here,” he speaks as you switch your phone on, dialing his number. He picks up not even a second in.

“Okay, can you hear me better?” he asks, and you rest your back against the thick wall. The door - heavy and cold - is fully closed so you could get a better experience, the full creeps. You nod, knowing he cant see it. “yep. Its crazy that people had to live like this,” you speak, holding the microphone part of your device close to your mouth, his voice on speaker. Something alive to fill the walls, more than your own presence. “Yeah. well it’s crazy that they committed so many crimes, honestly,” “i know.” 

You’re supposed to be filming. Your camera is rolling already and youre supposed to be speaking to a presumed dead person but a holy one is roaming downstairs without you and all you have is his voice as proof. “Hey,” jean calls out, and you thank good network reception and technology to have his voice be so clear, without cuts, real against your hand. “Im at the uh… what’s it called? The place where they could talk to their loved ones right now.” “ah,” “it feels weird.” a beat of silence. “Weird how?” you ask, your voice quiet. 

“Like-” theres a shifting sound at the end of the line, followed by a slight creak. “- weird in the sense that… i dont know, like, people still loved and cared for quote-unquote bad people,” 

You hum. Your head now also rests against the wall, too unaware to keep it up, too comfortable to find your own muscles. “I dont know. You’re always better with the words and shit.” he says, and you give him a small laugh. “Words and shit?” “yeah like, you know what to say.” “i mean, these people are dead, jean, theres a real small chance they can even hear us.” “i know, but like, even to alive people.” its almost 3 am, your phone says, and your heart increases in size, a little too comfortable against your ribcage. 

Have you ever felt that before? the muscle that’s supposed to be contained in a confined space now opens itself up and you have no choice but to let it. It grows, bigger, until youre body is tattered and all that remains as proof is your heart, big and timid, still beating, waiting for jean’s eyes to look at it. You havent. You wonder if any of the people half-alive in this place have. 

“I mean, love is alot of patience,” you start, your fingers fiddling with the end of your jacket. A stray piece of thread. You hear him humming in agreement and continue, “maybe they just… couldnt say it. How many times have you been able to not say that you love someone, y’know? And then you get the chance to but then it gets lost in all the other unimportant things and maybe that… maybe that’s love. The unimportant things.” you say. Your fingers feel funny, tingly, hearing his voice saying something at the end of your sentence. Youre too caught up to say something important as a reply.

So you settle. Listen. “Like, imagining this place alive… y’know. Like not in a creepy way but in like… it’s - like so much time passed, and so much was said here.” he says. His voice holds importance in your hands, and you trace shapes into the side of your phone with your thumb as if its the back of his hand and you’ve taken it in yours, cold and patient, unimportant. Tracing shapes that cant be seen. He hears them though. It’s in every pause he takes, every breath he hears on your end of the line and he wonders if you know how your alive-ness makes him braver than the night. Brave enough to know that speaking is something to be accomplished, that you’re listening.

 

He stares at the glass window in front of him, sitting on the chairs that prisoners used to sit on with hope in their eyes. At least, that’s how he imagines it. Theres a small hole in the window, enough only to catch a couple breaths and silenced sentences and he can only imagine how the other person mightve felt, seeing their loved one behind a blurry and unkept screen.

“Im not going to empathize with them, obviously, but, i feel like… i mean, obviously this place was built to be inhumane. The fact that they even included that section of the prison, though.. I dont know. it's kinda nice.” you say, and he closes his eyes to pretend youre in front of him. Its not that hard, in all honesty, because your voice fills his ears and he’d rather listen to proof of the living - with her shoe kicking his, with her voice teasing his shrieks - rather than the minute but present proof of the dead. He knew someone - barely alive souls, watching - had to be listening to your conversation but he also knew that he was listening to it too and he’d rather commit to the cold of your familiar hands than the unfortunately lived-in warmth of this place.

“It is.” he agrees, his chin tilting up, his shoulders relaxing. One hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone, microphone to his lips with the speaker on. He wasnt alone. His phone’s screen is blurry and unkept, but he wasnt alone. 

“Y’know that’s what i find kind of… i dont know, comforting? About like, something this hopeless. That, like.. There’s a recreational room that they had. Like the option was there for them to sit down there and talk, maybe. I dont know how that wouldve gone-” you say, voice ending in a self-aware laugh, making him smile, “-but it was there, right. Same with this communication room…thingie. Like the option of loving is there.” 

Your voice floats against the walls of the room, touches the glasses separating him and the world, before coming back to him. His chest feels funny, more aware that it’s there. Not just as an organ and something trivial that helps him breathe but now as something larger than himself. Something less candid, hidden under layers of clothing and skin built to be thick, raised to be soft, and it almost lays there, in front of him, inhaling the sound of your voice like it’s a new source of oxygen. And it grows. Alive.

“Option of loving,” he echoes, eyes now fluttering open and looking at the expanse of the tattered ceiling above him, spotting shapes. Option of loving. “Like even now there’s like.. Im sitting here, and there’s notches on the wall. Like the… four standing lines and then a slash through them. Like the hope of getting out isnt gone. Its… cool how humans just do that.” you say. He clings onto every word, his own little prayer against the dark, unsaid but important. Option of loving.

He looks back infront of him, staring at the glass window again. Theres gunk in the corners of it and spiderwebs claiming it as their home in a place as haunted as this. “And even if i dont… believe in ghosts it’s like…cool to think about in the sense that, i dont know, everything is a proof of life. Y’know?” you ask, ready for confirmation knowing that he’d provide it to you. Anything you’d ask.

“Thats… i didnt see it like that,” he admits, “i mean i just saw it as like… confirmation that dead people are dead and that if there’s an afterlife we have to chose a right way to live, something we’re proud of, so that we dont regret it when we’re… dead and roaming the halls, waiting to be found, yknow?” “like grief.” you answer, and he shifts in his seat, getting a bit more comfortable. He nods, knowing you wont see it. “Yeah. kind of.” “that’s…poetic. We should start a podcast-” “-shut up,” and both your voices are broken up by laughs, short and warm and proof of being alive and roaming the halls, waiting to be found.

There’s a dog howling in the distance. No light in the room that you’re in, barely any air, coolness of november flush against your skin despite your layers. His voice holds you, a little blanket, cocooning you around yourself. “Hey, you’re supposed to come find me,” you say, reminding him of his task of peering into the halls, asking ghosts and bugs to come closer to him. Whatever’s alive or half-dead or half-alive or half-already-living. “And you’re supposed to play twenty questions with your hot date,” “i think he’s pretty cold, actually,” you say, he laughs. Another shift in fabric, another creak - he’s gotten up from his place on the chair, now warmed, soon to be claimed by the prison’s musty air, but for now it’s there. Fully alive. 

“My battery’s gonna die.” he says, voice a little solemn, his footsteps squeaking against the floor, rubber on hard cement. “We have walkie-talkies,” you provide, your voice full around it’s edges with your own smile and jean almost asks why youre smiling, but refrains. He’ll ask when he finds you. Or maybe he’ll tell you he’s in love with you. Or maybe the words will get lost under all the other unimportant things that he has to say to you. 

Or maybe that’s just what love is. The unimportant things, layered, hidden, chest and heart, large, warm, growing. 

[xclowniex]

from a realistic point of view, i dont see how zionism doesnt lead to non-jewish palestinian death or at least repression. if you have a state which has it enshrined in its founding documentation that it is For "Jewish People" (israel has been carefree about fucking over people they dont consider to be Jewish in the right way). two state solution doesnt even solve it since the assumption is just to have another israel and shove all the people they dont think count as jews over to palestinian state and pretend like they didnt just make an ethnostate

The reason you do not see how it doesn't lead to palestinian death is because on a fundamental level, you do not understand zionism from a jewish perspective.

Jews can and have, taken DNA tests and proved that we are descdant from cannanites who lived in Southern Levant. There is history too proving our orign from the region. A lot of jews were forced out due to various empires wanting to kill us, however some jews remained in the region.

Zionism is simply about self determination for jews as one of the indigenous peoples to the region. It does not inherently imply that palestinians are not indigenous as you can very much have two indigenous groups in a region, eg Moriori and Maori for example, both are indigenous to land which is part of New Zealand, but are two different groups.

I'm not going to say that no zionist ever wants harm to palestinians as there are, however the majority of zionists want a two state solution or a land for all solution (which is different to a one state solution of israel or palestine).

Indigenous groups do deserve self determination. This applies to all indigenous groups world wide. One indigenous group gaining self determination does not inherently harm another group of people, indigenous or not.

Ideologies can be implemented badly and not mean that the inherent concept is bad. For example, communism. No country has ever sucessfully implemented communism as they never leave the transition phase without something going wrong. Saying that zionism always hurts palestinians is like saying that communism is inherently genocidal because of China and Russia.

There are plenty of zionist solutions which does not harm palestinians which are deemed as ideal solutions by zionists, such as versions of a two state solution and land for all solutions.

Israel is also not an ethnostate. The percentage of israeli jews is almost equal to those who are New Zealand European in NZ, yet no one calls NZ an ethnostate. There are plenty of other countries whose majority population is around a similar percentage of 70% - 75% of a country and that country does not get called an ethnostate. Either, all countries with the majority ethnicity percentage above are ethnostates, or the threshold percentage needs to be higher for a country to be an ethno state, or if its only Israel who is an ethnostate and other countries with similar percentage are not, then you hold an antisemitic belief as the only jewish state should not be an exception for purely being a jewish state.

I would also like to touch on yoru usage of "non-jewish palestinian".

Whilst palestinian jews do exist (and I do know one personally), they are a very small minority of palestinians. It is illegal to be jewish in Gaza and the West Bank, so there are no rabbi's there for palestinians to convert. So I am very confused as to what you mean as there are no palestinian jews in palestine, and those that exist in the diaspora are a minority in both aspects, so whilst they deserve recognising and care, your wording is very strange and dogwhistle like. The reason I say dog whistle like, is because it is a common dog whistle for people to say that palestinians are the real jews and who we refer to as jews today are fake jews, which is obviously antisemitic.