#i just still cannot help but feel like it's not enough

[samah-h]

A Confession from the Heart of Suffering: An Unbearable Reality

I hope you read my confession, and thank you. This is the reality of all the people of Gaza.

Whenever I think of the life we used to have before the genocide, I have to struggle to hold my tears so I don't cause my children more pain than what they already feel. Our life, then, was neither easy nor perfect but it was full of warmth and the simple joy of being together under one roof .

We have never felt completely free because we have always been under a siege that has only gotten worse during this war but at least we felt somewhat safe and we had quite a decent life with the means that we were allowed.What kept us going was our belief that the future might be brighter one day.

Unfortunately, there seems to be no better tomorrow for us anymore. Nothing remains of our previous lives but rubble and memories, and the future is so bleak and full of uncertainties.It's not just the walls of our house that were turned into ruins, it's our hopes and dreams that were reduced to ashes. Now, we only dream of things that might seem so trivial to other people around the world like being able to sleep in and wake up in a comfortable bed or having a meal without standing for it in line for hours.

We dream of having enough clean drinking water so we don't have to worry about dying of thirst. We dream of the days we had a home with a regular kitchen and stove, the days we could celebrate special occasions with family in peace. Above all, we dream of not losing the people we love in a split second and of living safely and with dignity.

Instead, we have been wrongfully sentenced to a life of fear, displacement, and humiliation beyond belief. It is a living nightmare here now. Everything needed to ensure the bare minimum of decency and normalcy is denied to us. As you well know, there is no safe place in Gaza anymore and We are deprived of simple rights like having having a roof over our heads or enjoying some peace of mind for even one single day. The airstrikes and the buzzing of drones almost never stop. We live with a very real sense of impending doom day and night.

The water and food scarcity are only getting worse with time. Even regular chores like cooking or doing the laundry have become true challenges. I cannot propely bathe my children because the little water we get is polluted and their sensitive baby skin keeps getting irritated.

Before the war, my nine- year-old daughter was so picky about which outfits to wear; it made me laugh that she acted that way at her age but now we don't even have enough warm clothes for the winter. It kills me each time she says she doesn't need fancy clothes anymore and only wants to feel warm and go back to school. What makes it worse is our tent has recently been flooded by rain.

The whole camp turned into a swamp overnight. The children woke up soaked, shivering and terrified. It was almost impossible to calm them down as the rain kept pouring. We are doing our best but even if we succeed in finding the treatment, it's going to cost almost a fortune. This is why we need your support even more now.

All we do now is fight for survival every day. I never imagined,even in my darkest nightmares, that I would be searching high and low to put food in my children's mouths and keep them warm or that I would be begging the world to literally save their lives but I have no other choice now.

Despite the unbearable suffering we're daily going through, I still believe in humanity. please keep us in your prayers and help us anyway you can. Donate if you're able to,reblog and share our story as widely as you can.We are grateful to each and every one of you

Vetted by @bilal-salah0

7,464$ / 10,000$

[bugbyte]

This this this. I absolutely hold no ill will toward anyone who got a diagnosis in months. Everyone should have that option. Faster, really.

But it’s been hitting me lately about how many little oddities and weird injuries and other problems that made my life hell growing up were more than likely just undiagnosed EDS/POTS/the other muscular dystrophy situation I don’t want to think about yet.

There’s grief. Being told for decades that you just have weird knees, but being unable to explain why gym class makes you feel like you’re actually dying. I was a skinny little kid and I think doctors and gym teachers wrote it off as me just not wanting to try. I tried and I tried and I tried. I wanted to play a sport like my friends, and because that was apparently the only capital that would get you treated like a real person and serious student by the teachers and administrators. If I had known I couldn’t do it because of a disability, just, fuck. My self esteem would have been a whole lot better.

Doctors saying these kinds of things led me down a path of “well, I just have to work harder.” This turned into an escalator of “eat better” (actually helpful) and “work out more” (coulda been helpful with proper guidance.) So I decided over time to take it to an extreme so hard that no one could deny I wasn’t doing enough exercise: I started training to run marathons. And I did! Multiples of them! It was a unique and delicious hell.

Runner’s high is real, and so I’d spend the first 5 miles staving off agony through mind over matter, snacks, music. Eventually the bone-grinding pain turned to numbness and then the high feeling somewhere between miles 5 to 8, reliably. I could ride that for a while, but when it wore off, it wore off.

Whatever the remaining distance at that point felt like dragging my body through quicksand. Whatever pain I had at the start came back multiplied by ten. But seeing the folks around me, no one was having a great time at the end of the race and I assumed all of this was normal. I would be incapacitated for days afterward, but no one could tell me I hadn’t worked hard enough to get there.

I absolutely cannot do this now. I am sad because despite the pain and injuries, it was a lot of fun. I have no idea if I contributed damage to my body but I try not to think about it too hard because it’s so far in the past.

Anyway, to bring it back around, I guess my point is that not having a frame of reference for why your body seems “wrong” to you, and the people whose job it is to advise you about it just…don’t…can really, really make you spend a lot of time trying desperately to be “normal” and it can be potentially dangerous at worst, or at least a waste of time.

It took my entire life (with a decade in the middle where I gave up for a while) to find the right path and the right people to help me understand myself and my weirdo genetics.

I wonder a lot how my life could have been different if I had known more much sooner. But I try not to think too hard about it, either. Just keep moving forward like a shark, one of the things I’d repeat to myself during races. It still applies.

I’m going to be a bitch for a second, but when I’m conversing with someone newly diagnosed with MCAS/POTS post covid and they complain about “the long wait” to get diagnosed and that “long wait” is 3-4 months my entire brain blue screens.

Like on the one hand, yes those 3-4 months must have been so, so scary and I am so unbelievably glad we’re in a place where doctors know enough to reconize it now. Like truly, I am so sincere I am so happy for them.

But I’m also just like... 30 years, man.

I spent 30 years being told from the age of eight I was manifesting my allergic reactions through anxiety by health care professionals.

Fuck, five years ago when I was starving to death from how severe my MCAS had gotten an allergist told me it was anxiety.

And you got diagnosed in three months.

MONTHS

MONTHS

AND YOU’RE COMPLAINING

I’m not mad at them. I’m not. I’m just sad for myself.

But also, hey, yeah. If you come into an MCAS forum and wonder why a bunch of the old timers get upset when you complain it took months for a doctor to listen to you, this is why.

It's not that you deserved to wait longer. It's that we didn’t either and and sometimes even good changes can unearth a world of hurt.

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of the last yr scene.

wilmon endgame • episode 6

the camera work is so on point - it follows wille around moving frenetically, as to emphasize the hurry and the tension.

simon gets in panic mode for a sec. he was never over wilhelm but definitely thought their relationship was.

at first he looks ... scared - not of wille but of what he feels for him at this point. he's still in love but they got to the finish line, they broke up with no idea of when or if they will talk to each other again, there's no reason for wille to chase after him if not to change something.

it makes his thoughts spiral, but somewhere in his little heart he has a lot of hope too and that's why he steps out of the car to hear what he has to say.

these words really mean everything and i'm glad they're told directly to simon. it's such a sigh of relief for wilhelm to get this off his chest and mean it for real: he's doing something for his own sake finally - to be free, to be happy, to be in control of his own life for once.

he never got to choose anything - somebody else has always done it for him - but he no longer has to be afraid anymore.

simon is just as relieved and the proudest: he proved over and over again to care so deeply. to see wilhelm constantly hurting inevitably hurt him too.

he knew wille was brave - he actually told him once - and he was so right. it takes a lot of courage to do what wille just did.

shut up he's adorable :') playing with his fingers and trying not to break into a smile. he wants to look calm and collected but his heart is jumping out of happiness.

this comes after the are you sure you're over me? - breaking up was all it took for wille to think that simon must not love him anymore: to earn love and for everything to be perfect in order to deserve love is what his family and royal life always taught him - but simon's what the hell do you think? proves him so wrong.

the tears in his eyes i cannot - this is the face of a man who's bursting out of love, he adores simon this much.

they crush into the hug like they've been dying to do it. what a moment it must be for them to close the distance.

in this hug they find what they both were needing the most.

they hold on to each other. emotions are so overwhelming and it's written all over their faces - it feels too good to be real.

it's almost scary to let go now and i love how they tighten the hug at the same time, clinging to make it last longer.

and they're at the same height so simon has to be on his tippy toes ahsjkh.

oh the beauty in simon feeling every emotion to the fullest and letting them all out. he doesn't hold himself back and it is truly heartwarming to watch.

this hug is healing - he's giving joy to be back in wille's arms, proud of wille for putting himself first, relief because the fear of losing him was too much to handle.

the single tear drop and the pure disbelief in his expression. he caresses wille's cheek and keeps looking at him like he's the most precious thing.

doing the triangle method - again. old habits never die huh.

wille letting simon choose to whether kiss him or not.

it's our simon we're talking about, the one that risked it all and initiated their very first kiss bc he liked wille that much already, so could he possibly not do that now? he obviously does and can't help but smile into it.

they can't get enough of kissing and wandering hands. it's like their only way to make this become more and more real.

fair to say they're kinda obsessed with each other's hair!

love love looove the transition from them kissing in secret in the dark of the night to them kissing freely out in the open in the daylight - the most beautiful metaphor.

completely different plot points but the feelings involved are so familiar - reunion kisses are very much their brand: there's longing, passion, need to savor the moment to make it last.

and this time it can really last forever.

something super special about simon not replying with i love you too but sticking to i love you - it is not just reciprocal.

this shot haunts me. it's from the documentary and idk why it wasn't used in the final cut, i'll make space for it here anyway!

wille can't stop smiling and simon never takes his eyes off of him - he's emotionally overwhelmed by the way he bites his lip and his chin trembles. my heart.

no ray of sunshine between them could ever distract me from wilhelm diving into this kiss with his eyes open.

simon is definitely being pulled closer by the waist here and i take it very personally.

i was already full on sobbing when this part of the scene came up - sara and felice calling them out bc they are too caught up in their own bubble.

they still take one more moment to just look at each other so fondly tho and try to get a grip on what has just happened.

i get you wille! simon is the loml too.

this shot is sooo!!! hillerska in the rear view mirror as they drive away - time for the last bittersweet goodbye.

all of them are wearing white, they're driving off in a white car, most carefree than ever - sounds a lot like freedom and fresh start.

some things never change - they're the most comfortable and happy when they can be just them, just like this.

god knows where they're headed but it doesn't really matter as long as they're together.

wilmon endgame babyyyy.

they've been through so much but come so far eventually. it's the end of young royals but the beginning of a new chapter in wilmon story - the best one - and it's only theirs to write from now on.

it's still going to be tough, storms are still about to come their way and ruin plans, life is a mess but at least they have each other. they're holding hands in a we are in this together kind of promise and it's so reassuring to know.

it was a hell of a ride but love and hope wins - and there's truly no one who deserves it more than them.

time to appreciate the comparison between wille the perfect crown prince and messy hair with undone shirt wille!

he looks at the audience for the very last time with the most content smile and we can tell he really is - ready. to leave us behind, to face the future, to experience life in the way we've seen him fight for before.

wilmon breaking the fourth wall together at the end would've been insane, but it feels so right to focus on wille actually: it's always been just him, it all started with our eyes on him and his journey, the choice to abdicate is for his own sake and not for simon - he said it himself - so for him to be alone in the closing shot makes the most sense to me.

wilhelm finally getting his own little family of people who loves and values him, simon sharing life with the person who's made him feel seen and cared for - this is honestly the best finale we could’ve ever asked for.

[goldfades]

Assembling nursery stuff together 🥰

Joe talking to the baby bump

Joe spoiling you rotten 🥺

joe is the ultimate husband u cannot convince me otherwise. also he's a swiftie, there i said it (im projecting)

the soft hum of taylor swift's fearless fills the nursery, her voice bouncing off freshly primed walls as you and joe sit on the floor, surrounded by paint cans and brushes. he’s not even trying to hide the mock pain on his face as the opening notes of you belong with me come on.

“really? this one?” he groans, dragging the roller across the wall in slow, deliberate strokes. “this song is ancient.”

“it’s a classic,” you counter, dipping your brush into the pale sage paint. “besides, the baby likes it. don’t you, little one?” you glance down at your growing belly and grin.

joe pauses, leaning on the roller handle to give you that look—the one where his lips quirk up just slightly, like he’s pretending to be annoyed but failing miserably. then he’s on his knees, already abandoning the wall, paint forgotten as he scoots closer to you.

“you hear that, baby?” he says, his voice softening as he places a hand gently on your bump. “your mom’s turning you into a swiftie before you even have a choice. but don’t worry,” he adds, leaning closer, practically nose-to-belly. “dad’ll sneak in some joe cocker or bruce springsteen when she’s not looking. we’ll balance it out.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the laugh that bubbles out, watching him talk to your stomach like the baby’s going to answer him. he’s been doing it constantly lately—every chance he gets. sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night to find him lying beside you, whispering to the baby about his day, about how excited he is to meet them.

“you’re a dork,” you tease, brushing a streak of paint onto the side of his arm.

he doesn’t even flinch. instead, he looks up at you with this ridiculous, wide grin, the kind that makes you feel like you’re still falling in love with him every day. “you love it,” he says simply, and then, because he can’t help himself, he presses a kiss to your belly. “and you love it too, don’t you, kid? don’t worry, we’ve got her wrapped around our little finger already.”

“oh, please,” you groan, but your heart is so full you think it might burst.

later, when the walls are finished and you’re sitting cross-legged on the drop cloth, joe spoils you the way he’s been doing for months now. he won’t let you lift a finger, even to clean up. “just sit there, pretty girl,” he murmurs, handing you a glass of water before crouching down to start gathering paintbrushes.

“joe, i can help,” you say, but he shakes his head without even looking up.

“you’re doing enough,” he says. “you’re growing a whole human in there. let me take care of the rest.”

his tone is matter-of-fact, but the way he looks at you when he finally glances up? it’s something else entirely—pure adoration. and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with the thought that if this baby has even a fraction of his heart, they’re going to be the luckiest kid in the world.

[multimilfs]

POV POV POV anything from agathas perspective (maaaybe smth jelly or protective 👀 im not picky tho)

hmm, this was a hard (but fun) one! i've been toying with some Agatha POVs in the new chapter(s) so this was a nice little exercise for that. not exactly what you requested, but i hope you like it regardless, darling!! i had so much fun playing around with this!!

also--spoilers for The Reigning Game CH5 below the cut

Agatha's POV:

"Help me up." Agatha demands.

When she inhales, it's choked. There's an odd heat to the feeling of her flesh sliding over the blade. Like the searing pain should be temporary. But it renews again with each breath, forcing adrenaline and rage into her veins.

The rage, so familiar and comforting, calls forth her magic, beckons it forward from that never-ending well somewhere deep in her person. Her power writhes in the same agony she does as soon as it surfaces. It claws at her, desperate for a foothold to pull away from the pain, from whatever is imbued in the fucking sword that makes her unable to rid herself of it. It begs for the pain to end. She cannot make it stop.

She lets loose a long string of curses.

Agatha doesn't know who this Witch is, but when she does she's going to destroy her slowly. She'll turn her magic against her so she feels the never-ending torment of her body unraveling. And when she begs for mercy, Agatha will give it to her; but she won't let her keep it.

Stupid fucking Witch. Stupid plans and you and biding her fucking time when she should just--

"Why should I?"

Agatha freezes. She holds her breath, which is a strange relief for her abdomen, though her lungs scream. She tilts her head back to look at you.

You, beautiful and kind and arrogant and foolish. You, with the sun at your back, surrounding your person in a ring of golden light. You, the problem and solution.

She really knows how to pick them.

There's a desire roiling in your eyes that intrigues her. Bloodlust. It lingers every time you look at her, every time you sit in silence long enough to consider how you might bring her to heel. Yet, in some deep part of her, Agatha knows this bloodlust isn't yours.

You're too still.

"Don't do this. Not now."

Your laugh is quick, easy, wrong, "I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness."

Harkness. Like saying her true name is beneath you; the Witch has kept that much true, at least.

“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”

She knows you desire her death for yourself, you always have. You've fought her tooth and nail every step of the way. Just like that day.

That day when she had outmaneuvered you, leaving your forces surrounded in the old fortress. Agatha hadn't seen the bodies she leveled, focused solely on meeting you halfway, as if called by some outside force. The blood had clung to her skirts though.

Upon her approach, you had wasted no time. You lunged, a flurry of blows and slashes so fast even she fought to keep up. You danced around the bodies she left trailing behind her. Even with the advantage of age and power you were quicker, flitting in and out of space before she could fathom how to catch you. A Goddess of beauty and rage and determination.

Agatha's familiar enough with manipulation--familiar enough with you--to see through the clumsy attempt.

Your head tilts, observing her like a specimen in a jar. Agatha's magic still roils and writhes within her, equal parts desperate to escape the pain and eager to prod you until the emotion in your eyes is your own. How dare that Witch alter what is already perfect?

“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”

The way out, wickedly deposited into her lap.

Agatha smirks through the pain.

Winning. Winning for whom? Not those masses your heart bleeds for. The poor and downtrodden Agatha rarely spares a thought for, but whom you had gone to war to defend.

The woven mask cracks, a hint of you peeking through. Her eyes rake down your form. Her head tilts. It's a shame, really; such a stunning example of fury, butchered by ham-handed manipulation.

“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”

the original scene (for context):

Lightness sweeps through your limbs. Walking away now would be so easy. It is your turn to have the last word.

“Help me up.” Agatha demands.

Her chest rises, though stutters each time as the pain of her flesh sliding over the blade renews. Under her breath she lets loose a string of obscene curses.

You tilt your head, your own voice sounding far away, “Why should I?”

Agatha freezes. For the first time since falling, she looks at you. You’re struck by the change in circumstances; not long ago it was you kneeling at her feet, begging. You’re seized by the desire to feel her beg.

You want to hold her heart in your hands and squeeze.

“Don’t do this. Not now.”

The laugh comes too easy, “I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness.”

“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”

You stare at her, hard; the paling of her skin, the way her fingers are clenched in the grass, palm sputtering purple. Her eyes are furious. There’s also something else there you can’t quite place.

“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”

Agatha’s lips pull into a smirk. It lacks the usual strength, but you still find yourself unmoored—fear creeping in where triumph was moments earlier.

Her eyes drag over you. Her own head tilts.

“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”

You can’t breathe.

[renthony]

Considering the fact that there's still ongoing waves of covid, bird flu is an active concern, and I'm disabled, no, I don't have in-person social life. And since people refuse to mask up, get vaccinated, or offer virtual participation in things anymore, my attempts to find wider social groups keep getting hamstrung. It sucks. A lot.

I've thought about joining the local French conversation group, but they don't have any covid safety protocols in place. I've thought about going to the weekly free art classes at the comic school, but they aren't covid-safe either, so I just watch the recordings when they upload them on YouTube later. I've thought about going to multiple groups at the local queer community center, but when I asked if they had covid safety protocols, their excuse was that "Ron DeSantis banned mask mandates, so we don't do that anymore," instead of doing literally anything to fight DeSantis. I keep thinking about going back to my theatre & stage combat troupe at the ren faire, but I got sick after the show every single year pre-covid and I cannot risk that "faire crud" being covid proper. I just can't.

I am an active member of a union, but that doesn't count for this poll because I exclusively participate online by video calling into meetings. I play D&D with my parents and siblings every week, but that doesn't count because they're family. I talk to multiple friends and family members every day and regularly check in with folks, but it doesn't count because it's on my phone. I hang out with my housemates and we do all kinds of things together, but that doesn't count because they're the people I live with.

I am being as social as I safely can. It feels really shitty that so many people think it isn't good enough. It feels really shitty to constantly feel like my choices are "be a weird angry shut-in" or "elevate my covid exposure risk." It feels like there's no winning.

If you genuinely believe that it's important for people to have in-person social outlets (and I do agree!), here's what you need to be doing:

Follow the People's CDC's Safer In-Person Gatherings guide (which is due to be updated for 2025 soon).

Get your updated covid booster. People aren't getting their updated vaccines, and it's a problem. If it is available to you, you need to GO. GET. YOUR. BOOSTER. And get your flu shot while you're at it.

Advocate for improved air filtration in the space you want people to meet in. Push for air purifiers if the HVAC system can't be fully upgraded. Help make Corsi-Rosenthal boxes.

At gatherings, provide FREE high-quality N95 masks for people who may not be able to access them. Get some for yourself if you can, and actually wear the fucking things. Over your nose and mouth. Properly.

Stop participating in social dogpiling when people make honest blunders or commit a faux pas. A lot of people have been isolated for years by this point. Social skills atrophy if they aren't used. Is that "weird" person in the group actually hurting anyone, or are they just awkward, intimidated, and out of practice when it comes to social groups?

Stop being a shithead to people who still can't participate. Stop entertaining the belief that people who don't have a robust external social life are "defective" or "untrustworthy." Stop treating people who don't have a robust social life as if they're dangerous, stupid, or shady. Sometimes people just don't have a robust social life. There are many, many reasons. It's not something you should make harsh judgments about.

Evaluate your space for general accessibility. Can disabled people enter and make use of the space? Is it mobility aid friendly? Sensory friendly? Are there things that can help make it easier for disabled people to find, access, and participate in the group? Have you asked any disabled people about how you can make improvements?

Get your fucking covid booster. It's on here twice because data suggests you fuckers aren't doing it. Go get your fucking vaccine.

I know I'm setting myself up for another barrage of, "Ren, it's just some stupid tumblr post, it isn't that serious" comments, but...well, it is that serious to me. I want to participate in social groups again. I want to go places and do things again. I want to go out. But I, and a lot of other people like me, just don't have the option.

You can help give us that option by giving a shit about covid safety and disability justice in your community.

Thanks, Anon!

-submit your poll!-

[webanglikethat]

things ram and devi have done and said without even saying they’re in love / being in a relationship because they drive me insane:

Ram defied orders from the LITERAL goddess because he didn’t want Devi to die, thus ignoring his duties

-> like …. he willingly let another woman DIE in Devi’s place and !!!! this act had been committed five years ago, when the affection between the two had BARELY begun blossoming

-> “Why bother when the goddess herself allows you to decide people’s fate?” had been Devi’s question to him, but little did she know, he already defied every rule for her, going against literal fate

he saved Devi during the arson, putting her before his own BROTHER

he went after Devi when she took off on an horse during the attack, and carried her in his arms back to safety (which he realllyy didn’t have to do 🤭)

it’s revealed he would purposefully change his route to catch a glimpse of Devi

-> Ram’s wishful desire was to see her at every service; just hoping to catch her smile along the hallowed halls where once they met

he “noticed an unfamiliar feeling rising inside him” when he met her again

Ram always found an excuse to touch Deviya — holding her hand to lead her somewhere, brushing his fingers over her cheek to calm her, cupping her face, putting a hand on her waist, trapping her against the wall, his finger on her lips, holding her hands tighter as if it could heal her holding her waist as she straddled him

he said he “missed her smiling at him”

he kissed her neck (quite literally marking her) while thinking of how De Clare would react, not realizing the jealousy that was growing in his heart at the thought of losing her to him

-> which he then said (in season 2) he’d do it on her wedding day too !!

-> in the same episode he tried to pretend he doesn’t care about their engagement 💀, mission failed my dude 🤭

“That. The way he felt when she was near him. The reason he always looked for her in the crowd and couldn’t stop teasing her”

ram always thought of marriage as a transaction, a duty to be fulfilled, something he simply had to do. and love? love wasn’t a necessary equation. that’s what his family line looked like — alliances, partnership, all devoid of tenderness. but Deviya awakened something in Ram — and for the first time, he was confused and lost

“It’s ironic that even with all the knowledge and wisdom of the world at my disposal, I still can’t figure this out on my own. I’m almost thirty, and for all of my life I have denied myself what I wanted because the greater good was more important. And in all this time… no one has ever been able to enchant me as much as…”

Ram talked Devi through her anger at the reception so she wouldn’t make a mistake in front of her guests and lose the position she had so long worked for (he helps her see the bigger picture)

Ram told her their connection wasn’t for nothing. they were fated for a reason

the less often he saw her, the more he wanted to see her

-> and if she didn’t came, he would wait for her

he noticed everything she did — be it the way she shifted from foot to foot when she was nervous or how she looked at him in fear (from the subtlest of things to the most obvious, he noticed it always)

he teased her about how much she liked him but then said:

“such a rakhasi cannot possibly die. I need her”

admitting, even if it was meant as a tease, that he could no longer exist in a world in which her presence didn’t fill his heart’s pages

he comforted her on the day of her death, quickly realizing that:

“/ wish this had happened to me instead... hasn't she been dealt enough pain already, in her life?”

“when Ram realized how sincere his desire to take all Deviya's troubles for himself was, it quickly became clear that their secret relationship had taken on a new meaning … growing into something profound”.

what started as a perhaps meaningless, fleeting, teasing affair quickly turned into something more — something he couldn’t put a name to, but he could feel encompassing his body every single second

he could no longer pretend it was just for fun or a distraction

so he finally mustered up the courage to ask Devi to be with him (but not officially 😔) even if it was in secret — for he would rather have her in secret, than lose her be it to death or another man. 

noticing how distressed she was, he closed his eyes and then slowly began kissing her fingers. Devi noticed that his eyelashes were trembling. “he’s nervous as well, but once again he tries to reassure me first, even though he could use some support himself."

he always put her before himself, over and over again. this isn’t something he was taught, like I mentioned before. for him, marriage or love was based on children, mutual respect and the husband’s views. yet he interminably put himself in the background, just to help Devi shine

“they kissed each other gently and yet desperately at the same time, as only doomed lovers can kiss.”

“he was with her right at that moment. sharing her pain and fear... would that have been possible if what they had was fleeting? he always chose her, no matter what.”

Ram: “I'll be with you. no matter what.” Devi: “I know”

he fought for her, allowing her to escape

and her thoughts led to him, even as she bled out

“the very thought of losing him was unbearable. and just as things were beginning to blossom between them.” “dying would be a little easier if you were holding my hand right now”

"I'm with him in my thoughts, heart, and soul." // "even if it doesn't make any real sense, it does for me. l feel calmer this way."

being away from her, when she was in a coma, made Ram feel like he was dying too // the thought of losing him (as she actively died) felt even worse than death

-> his biggest dream was being able to touch her again, to gaze into her eyes, to see his affection being mirrored in hers. to hear her laughter again was all he could hope for

they risked MULTIPLE times to be caught just to bask in each other’s presence — even if it was only for a few moments because the risk was worth it — they are worth it to each other

his face “instantly lost colour” when she mentioned her wedding

he tried pretending it didn’t hurt him — that he could accept it, that he could have a part of her and let it be enough, but they both knew the truth

so she laid out her future: her married to De Clare, visiting India from time to time, meeting Ram’s wife — but not him because he would still remain a coward who couldn’t voice what he wanted

so he finally let his feelings free and kissed her, marking her neck (in the middle of the hall where everyone could’ve caught them)

he touched her under the table — at dinner, where again, anyone could’ve seen them !!!

the moment Devi’s smile faded, Ram noticed immediately and shifted his tone, asking softly, “is something wrong?” -> he is SO attuned to her emotions, so skilled at noticing even the slightest change — which is especially important since Ram isn’t portrayed as someone who does this for just anyone

they know each other well enough to play off each other’s words without malice — their banter is so much fun (especially on passion route)

he fingers her in the library 🤭 he’s SO careful with her even though it’s obvious they’re both overwhelmed by the connection — he’s letting her set the pace and the fact that Ram doesn't push, but instead allows her to slowly move at her own pace, amplifies her vulnerability and makes her every move feel more significant. she’s still confused on what she wants and he lets her explore it on her own, and she knows he will wait for her

he wanted to dance with her despite not knowing how to — and in front of everyone too !! he was ready to embarrass himself for her

-> he is so caught up in her that he’s willing to push past his own comfort zone, even if it means embarrassing himself a little; as long as he can witness her smile

now she is the one who takes the power and kisses him, marking HIS neck — and so they imagine each other naked, finally taking the next step and ….

he finally admits it to himself.

He wanted to finally understand what it meant to connect with the woman he loved with all his heart.

Ram Doobay is in love with Deviya Sharma.

[inotakumagf]

the grudge

✶ geto suguru x gn!reader

word count ✺ 860

summary ✺ you talk to suguru for the first time in years

warnings ✺ listened to the grudge by olivia rodrigo while writing this, so its allll hurt/no comfort. just straight up pain lol :P new to posting on here, so reblogs and comments are very appreciated!

“I hate you,” you say.

Suguru doesn’t respond. He doesn’t react at all. You don’t expect him to. He hasn’t cared about you in a long time, not since he decided to leave and become a curse user.

Your anger boils over at the continued silence. “Why? Why, Suguru? We loved you. Gojo, Shoko, Nanami, all of us. I loved you. I–” your words catch in your throat as you think of all that he’s done. After all of it you still stand before him, desperate for answers.

“Why did you do it? Why did you leave? We would have…we would have helped you. I would have done something,” you scream. Nothing.

“You were supposed to be the best of us. Not just the strongest. You were so kind, you cared about protecting non-sorcerers. What changed?”

You dig your fingers into your coat to stop yourself from reaching forward. You duck your head to hide the tears that are pooling in your eyes. You don’t want your anguish to be visible.

“I would have done anything, followed you anywhere. Do you know that? I’d still do anything for you, it’s pathetic,” you scoff, turning your head to wipe your wet face against your sleeve.

“I lied, the last time that we spoke. I do still love you. I need you to know, I love you. Even after everything. I shouldn’t speak for the others, but I know they feel the same. We…we haven’t filled the gap that you left when you defected.”

Lightning crackles in the distance, and it begins to drizzle. You stand in the silence, closing your eyes and letting the rain hit your face, until it begins to pour. But still no one moves.

“I’ve missed you,” you practically whimper. There’s a begging tone in your voice, as though things could be different.

“Fuck, I–I wish I could go back, do everything different. I wish I noticed sooner. I’m so sorry. Please, I need you to–”

You stop. You cannot allow yourself to beg for him to…what? Come back to you? After everything, you know you ask something impossible of him. The love that you had shared back in high school is long gone. Your Suguru will never return to you. The pain and hate that he spread is who he has become known for, and you know you cannot change that, cannot change him. And still, you wonder. Maybe, maybe he’d decide that he loved you more than he hated non-sorcerers. Are you a fool for wanting that? Of course you are, but you know your friends from high school think of it too. 

You regret every moment that led to him leaving, but you will never regret your love. You love Suguru, and you hate him so much for it. You want to scream, you want him to acknowledge it. You just want any piece of him you can get. The need overwhelms you, and you sink to your knees before him. Your pants soak into the wet Earth. The rain washes over you.

“I need you. I can’t let you go, I can’t move on. Not since you left. Come back. Come back to Jujutsu High. Come back to me. Or…if you never want to see me again that’s fine. I just…”

“You would have been a good teacher. The cult…that’s not all you could be. The students would love you, and you could build up a new generation of sorcerers. They would be nothing like the higher ups. We would be nothing like the higher ups. There’s so much we could do together.”

There’s no sound but your heavy breathing and the pitter-patter of rain. Your head dips low. The silence is answer enough. There is nothing here for you anymore.

You stand on shaky legs. The bouquet of roses that you had brought to this meeting are cast aside on the ground where you had left them. You pick up the bouquet now, brushing off some dirt and droplets of water. You stare down at the flowers, and the reminder of why you had come makes your heart ache. You place the bouquet against the small headstone that Gojo had put together. You hadn’t been able to recover the body after the fight, but Gojo insisted on a humble headstone for Suguru. Of course you helped him find a spot, far from the prying eyes of the higher ups. Despite everything, you still love him. He deserves to be remembered.

“I love you,” you say out loud this time. A part of you wishes, pleads, that he can hear you. You need to believe that he can, because the last time you had spoken to him in person, you’d said the most awful, vile things. You wish more than anything you could take it back, beg for his forgiveness, beg for him to just come home. You will spend the rest of your life regretting everything you didn’t do, even though rationally you know it’s not your fault

“I love you, Suguru,” you repeat with more fervor. “Do you hear me? I fucking love you. Always.”

Suguru doesn’t respond. The dead often don’t.

[alastair-1205]

Time for my weekly insane about Geo thoughts. I cannot imagine how terrified he must still be of Cole leaving him. Like yea he did the whole lying about his powers thing already, but it goes deeper than that insecurity from being thrown into the land of lost things.

He must have spent years hearing about this other, amazing, powerful family that Cole once had and that he missed deeply, and of course Geo knows Cole loves him, but he's sure that if it came down to it that Cole wouldn't actually choose him. But he can take some selfish comfort knowing that this old family isn't in the picture anymore. He feels like an asshole, but he's felt worse so...

But then this family come back and brings those world ending levels of responsibility that Geo had only heard of with them. Cole is dragged away by that and Geo is far from thinking it's a good idea to insist he stays, but now Cole knows he's been lying about his powers, and now they can all leave the land of lost things so Cole doesn't have a moral obligation there either. And of course Cole loves Geo and their kids and the family they've made, but in the face of the end of the world, he can't stay, and in the face of the ninja coming back, he may not ever return.

But that doesn't happen. Sure some shit goes down and Bonzel may be missing (she's not dead. She can't be. Just missing in a place someone can find her one day.) But Geo isn't alone in that. Silver linings.

But then the other thing about Geo that I'm not normal about rn is how weird it must feel for him to interact with the rest of the ninja.

Like Cole obviously has this dynamic and relationship that's older than Spitz and Fritz and had been born from blood and trials and heartbreak and Geo and the Finders are just. There. On the outskirts of that but never being integrated the way people like Sora and Arin are (Geo cannot fucking escape feeling like an outsider within already established groups damn).

And like of course the ninja have been kind to him, but there's a disconnect there. Cole is the only connection between his two families and if he isn't there, that fact becomes pretty obvious pretty quick. They've truama bonded a bit, but in a group as traumatized as the ninja that doesn't mean as much as it maybe should lol.

I was honestly just thinking about that part in DR season 2 where Lloyd was injured and Geo was just there. Like it was almost funny and the fact that it was funny is kinda sad. Like he's trying to help, clearly he cares, and they aren't telling him to leave either, but he's put of place. Wanting to help but not being close enough to do so in a way that matters, but also not detached enough to just walk away. The weirdest sort of limbo. But he loves Cole and Cole loves him and he hasn't left yet so maybe they'll figure something out.

[bassiter2]

every day of my life i wish i was cis mainly so i could've been repressed about being gay in a simpler way

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[vehemourn]

went to post this on twitter but i didnt wanna get banned . crazy that u can scrape my entire lifes work and i cant even tell u to die over it <3

[fadewalking]

Bellara lowkey pissing me off with all this feeling guilty bs

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

ohhhhmygod im gonna be sick. actually nauseous and i did it to myself - there was a spider on the countertop and i Panicked, grabbing the first distance-killer i could grab. it was a grease cleaner spray. i buried it in the stuff, walked away to recover mentally, came back

it fucking fell apart and dissolved into the cleaner. i both feel horrible and im disgusted beyond words. how the fuck do i get rid of it

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

the amount of effort that goes into figuring out what to cook and eat every day is RIDICULOUS. i used to think people were so weird and boring for eating the same thing every single day but it truly does make life so much easier

[ronkeyroo]

friends, Id love to plug in my Ko Fi while I try to sort things out and take care of myself through this sensitive period. I’m determined to keep pushing some work to cover for the medical expenses but any passive income on the sidelines while Im letting my body rest will be a huge help ;; If you enjoy my artwork shenanigans and wanna share some support, feel free to toss a coin or two?

For any fandom folk that would want to see more art of your favorite blorbo’s, any donations over 30$ will be rewarded with some more art of whichever blorbo we’re hyping over together, I cant promise something too big but i want to leave some fun options for those who would like to receive some goodies in return ;;

Thank you for everyone who pitches in, as well as for those who cannot afford to and just opt to share this post around - I’m just glad I can have this space with you where art can carry and support us through as both artist and audience ♥