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iguanodont · 11 months ago

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Emerges from my cave to announce I have created a new sophont

Tentatively calling swimslugs for now, as their designs mostly draw from mollusc anatomy. These small, colorful creatures dwell on a high gravity world dominated by shallow golden seas. Electrical engineering came early in their history, inspired by the ability of some of their native animals to generate electrical currents… and their own natural electroreception. The last few centuries have been peaceful and prosperous; their myriad cultures emphasize an exchange of art, culture, and friendly competition to sport the tackiest color schemes imaginable. Due to the high gravity of their world and their own physical limitations as aquatic creatures, swimslugs have a very limited history of aviation and have been generally uninterested in space travel, despite having been digital penpals with another group of sophonts for generations now…

On their biology:

Swimslug life relies on symbioses with two different organisms: a worm and a sessile “tunicate”. The worm (also simply referred to as an ‘arm’) is functionally a parasite; biting into the flank under the gills of its host early in life and fusing with its nervous and circulatory systems. This union allows the swimslug to develop fine motor control over the untethered end of the worm by adolescence. Most swimslugs only host a single arm; two or more become difficult for most individuals to acclimate to and can lead to health issues. Many genetic and cybernetic variations of the arm are available in the current era. The ‘tunicate’ (I will refer to as the Vase) is essential to swimslug reproduction; all parents spawn into the Vase to ensure a safe shelter and a steady current of oxygenated water for the developing offspring. The average swimslug has at least two fathers; the hybridization of multiple sets of gametes is essential to the proper development of their species. Family groups often consist of the egg layer, her family Vase (these can last for generations), and a 3 or 4 mates, though the particulars vary enormously by culture. Their eggs have a relatively low hatch rate; unviable eggs are consumed by surviving larvae shortly after hatching. The Vases themselves periodically produce free swimming larvae that are affectionately kept around dwellings as pets.

Swimslugs communicate by grinding and clacking modified stomach-teeth, as well as percussing on the adjacent ‘oil-sac’ organ that also serves to regulate buoyancy and store energy. They come in a dazzling variety of colors owing to both their complex hybridizations and genetic engineering. Cosmetic nanobots applied to their slime coats enhance their appearance by functioning as artificial chromatophores.

And that’s the gist of em! Many thanks to @nknatteringly for all the idea pitching and bouncing in their early development, wouldn’t have felt half as inspired without ya. Not sure how much further I’ll develop these guys, they exist mostly as a fun diversion to contrast the gritty, low-tech world of the birgs and a love letter to all the sparkly stuff I liked as a kid.

If you’d like to support my art, you check out these links here

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Patreon

Kofi

Inprnt

#speculative biology #worldbuilding #creature design

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loonylupinblack3 · 3 months ago

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Powerless

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: extremely toxic!rafe, violence, swearing, many threats issued

Summary: you hate being a Pogue. Hate how vulnerable and weak and powerless it makes you. Rafe reinforces this for you.

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: heavily based off of season 1 episode three of obx when pope is delivering groceries and Rafe jumps him. also the ferrari sf90 spider is actually my favourite car so i yapped about it a lil bit :)

You were helping Heyward load the grocery bags onto the boat alongside Pope and JJ, stacking the bags of food and other knick knacks in the middle of the vehicle.

“You kids get these groceries over to Figure Eight,” Heyward instructed, grunting as he lifted a pair of heavy bags off the dock and moved over to the boat, Pope, waiting at the ready, taking them from his father. “Get straight back here when you’re done.” He gave you a pointed look. “No fishing.”

You grinned at him, saluting him as you grabbed a pair of bags from him and placed it on the boat. JJ was right next to you, with Pope behind, the three of you working in tandem.

“I promised delivery by this afternoon,” Heyward continued. “Rich folk don’t want to wait for you lazy sons-” Seeing JJ with his arms already outstretched waiting for another bag of groceries and a beaming smile on his face gave Heyward pause. “Oh, JJ, thank you.” As soon as JJ grabbed the groceries he continued. “-sons of bitches.”

He glanced at you. “Excusing you, of course, Y/n. You’re always a delight.”

You beamed at him and JJ gave a scoff. “How come you get all the praise and I get nothing?”

You sniffed, flipping your hair to the side. “‘Cause I’m better.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are-”

Heyward interrupted the two of you. “Hey, alright enough. No bickering. Get your asses moving and deliver these groceries.”

You all gave the man a salute and entered the cabin part of the boat as Pope started it up. Heyward didn’t trust JJ enough to drive the boat and knew you’d end up going the wrong way with your poor sense of direction, so Pope was in charge of steering the vehicle.

You drove through the river, leaving the Pogue side behind and entering Figure Eight, the Kooks domain. You noted the large houses, clean and tidy, and the smooth way they all seemed to be running with enough electricity and clear running water to their heart's content.

“Doesn’t even look like the storm hit there,” Pope exclaimed in indignation. No doubt he was thinking about your own houses, all of them damaged in some way and not yet fixed.

JJ twirled a pocket knife in his hands. “That’s because they got generators, bro. Get used to it.”

You scowled, shaking your head. “And then they say the juice will be out all summer at the cut.”

Pope shook his head, jaw clenched. “Nice to be a Kook.”

You nodded your head in agreement as JJ said, “lucky bastards.”

“One day I’m gonna become a Kook,” you said. “Dunno how yet, but I’m gonna go full Kook, with a pool, mansion, Ferrari SF90 Spider.”

JJ and Pope both groaned as you mentioned your favourite car, again. Sometimes they found you just never shut up about it, going on about the horsepower, the V8 engine, the fact it was the very pinnacle of Ferrari technology, with the thrill and versatility of open top driving.

“Time for you to stop talking,” JJ said, commandeering the conversation. You didn’t mind, content to listen to him for the rest of the way to Figure Eight, where you docked the boat and divvied out the grocery bags between you.

You and Pope were gonna go together, with JJ taking the rest and heading in the other direction. You bid each other quick goodbyes and hurried with Pope, walking around the unfamiliar streets. Everything looked so much nicer here, from the pavement to the shops lining the streets, everything inside looking like it cost more than a week's worth of your pay.

You took a shortcut, walking through the golf course instead of around it. The employees let you through without a second glance. It was surprising what you could get away with as a Pogue working in Figure Eight. The two of you walked on the side of the golf course, talking under your breaths as you looked around cautiously.

“I’m also going to golf here every week,” you stated, watching a particularly fit woman swing a golf club, her muscles flexing with exertion.

You could almost imagine it being you, the golf club, hat, skirt, everything. If you really thought about it, the girl almost looked like you, similar hair colour and figure.

Pope laughed. “You hate golfing.”

You shrugged, swinging the bags in your hands slightly as you walked. “Yeah, but it's what Kooks do isn’t it?”

“What is your obsession with being a Kook?” Pope asked. “I get being rich, everyone wants it, but you seem almost obsessed with it.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself when movement caught your eye. You involuntarily recoiled when you recognised Topper and Rafe heading towards you. Pope noticed too, muttering swear words under his breath and advising you to just walk past and ignore them.

“Hey what’s up guys?” Rafe asked, putting up an innocent facade. He used his golf club to stop your walking, pressing it to the box of beers in Pope’s hand. “Hey how much for one of those beers?”

Pope turned to the side, trying to push past. “They’re not for sale.”

Rafe made a tutting sound. “Wait, wait, wait.” He stopped Pope as he tried to pass, forcing the two of you to stay there. Topper was standing directly in front of you, creating a barrier of sorts across the pathway. “You can just give us one, then, right?”

You wanted to snap at him. Wanted to ridicule him, ask him if he knew what not for sale meant. You were scared though, and you knew it wouldn’t help you or Pope standing up to him like that.

“Or you can order one like everybody else,” Pope replied, again trying to push past.

Rafe was rougher this time, ignoring Pope’s struggles and shoving him back. The coil of fear in your gut tightened. “Listen. Wait, wait, wait, you’re not listening to me. Um…” he gestured with his hands. “You’ve got so many bro, and we’ve got nothing.”

“Got nothing man,” Topper chimed in.

You scowled. “They’re not ours, they’re already paid for.”

Rafe looked at you, surprised you spoke, and then all of his attention was on you. You regretted even speaking, because his attention was like a guillotine, one wrong movement and the blade would fall.

“Oh, already paid for?” Rafe asked. “Knowing you Pogues, you probably stole them, right?”

Before you could stop him he was in front of you, his golf club snagging at the plastic bags in your hands as he pulled. Everything fell to the floor, and you heard the distinct sound of glass shattering.

“What the hell Rafe?!” You cried. “You owe us for that!”

He laughed, getting all up in your space. “Oh I owe you do I? I don’t owe you shit, Sweetheart.” He grabbed your chin, his fingers forcefully curling around your skin.

“Hey, get off her!” Pope yelled, grabbing Rafe’s shirt and yanking him back. You were grateful for the space, rubbing your jaw as the fear weighed you down, down, down.

Rafe spun around, “don’t fucking touch me you Pogue.”

“Come on man,” Topper said from his other side. They had him surrounded. “We just want a beer.” He made a lunge for it. “Just give us one of these.”

Topper and Pope were full on wrestling with the box now, and the fear was in your throat, especially when Rafe joined in, tripping Pope up and making him fall to the floor with a slam, rolling over a few times.

You gasped, going to him, but Rafe got there first. He had a bruise on his head, looking red and scratched. He scrambled upright, a hatred kindling in his eyes as he threw a punch. Rafe was ready though, avoiding it easily and using his golf club to slam into your friend's stomach. When he was bent over Rafe slammed it down again, Pope crumpling to the floor.

You couldn’t watch it anymore. As he raised his club again you moved forward, shoving him to the side. You only managed to move him because he wasn’t expecting it, and even Topper looked surprised, doing nothing to stop you because really, how much damage can a girl do?

You planted yourself in front of Pope, and when Rafe, laughing in disbelief, walked up to you, you were ready. You swung your fist but it was in poor form, Rafe catching your wrist mid-movement. His grip was tight enough to make you wince.

“Getting involved?” Rafe asked you, moving forward until you were chest to chest. “That’s cute.” His voice was low and mocking. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

You yanked your arm back. That was the second time he’d grabbed you and your skin felt dirty, his fingerprints crawling all over you. Rafe just seemed amused, a cruel delight in his eyes. There was no fear in his expression and why would there be? He was a Kook. He had his friend right behind him ready to defend him if needed. His real competitor was still on the floor, pain immobilising him. No, there was no fear in his expression, only a sick satisfaction of knowing exactly how much control he had over this situation.

Pope gave a groan, attempting to pull himself upright but Rafe didn’t even glance at him. His focus was zeroed on you, the intensity of his gaze making your stomach churn. “What’s it like, being a Pogue? Being powerless?”

You opened your mouth to snap at him, to say something humiliating and knock his ego down a few inches, anything to stand up against him. Rafe seemed to know you too well though, grabbing your jaw in a bruising grip, his fingers cold and rough. More threat than affection. “You’d be better off with me, y’know that?”

It wasn’t a flirtation he spoke to you – it was a threat. You could hear the danger in every word, the treacherous promise that he’d never leave you alone, that this sick game of his would only end on his terms. You could see the lines between desire and control blurring, and nauseatingly realised that Rafe’s affection for you might be even more dangerous than his fists.

You tried to jerk away, revolution surfacing inside you but Rafe only tightened his grip. “Nah, don’t do that,” he warned almost lazily. “Don’t make me hurt you too.”

You wanted to cry. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall. You’d hate to give him the satisfaction of seeing them roll down your face. All of this was a game to him, a test to see how much fear he could wring out of you. The worst part was you knew he would do it, just because he could.

Your gaze darted to Pope, your friend just managing to sit upright. Topper was standing to the side, an uneasy expression on his face. You didn’t want Rafe to escalate things any further, because you knew he would, just to prove a point. He noticed your line of sight and forcibly pulled you closer to him so he could whisper in your ear.

“You’re lucky I like you,” his breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. An edge of cruelty laced his tone, as did delight, the same one a kid would get from playing with their toys, which was what you were to Rafe. “Otherwise you’d be right there next to him.”

Before you could answer he shoved you back, hard enough to make you stumble. A sickeningly smug smirk was on his face as he picked up two cans of beer off the ground, chucking one to Topper.

“Catch you later Sweetheart,” he called to you, going as far as sending you a wink, acting like everything had just been harmless fun, which you guessed it was to him.

You watched him saunter away, leaving a mess in his wake that he seemed to do everywhere. Except this time it was worse, because with a sickening dread you realised the next thing he’d leave a mess would be you.

And you suddenly had an answer to Pope’s earlier question. Why did you want to be a Kook so badly? It was simple, really. This whole interaction had just reinforced the feeling that you were too vulnerable, too weak. And the answer appeared from the ashes of Rafe’s destruction, a truth you guarded with your heart.

You didn’t want to be powerless.

#rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #toxic rafe cameron #fanfiction #fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #outer banks x reader #rafe outer banks #outer banks fic #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #pope heyward #jj maybank #pogues x reader

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savethaerfamily · 5 months ago

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Help Thaer’s Family: Save my Family the War in Gaza ❤️🇵🇸

"A family struggling amidst the Gaza conflict seeks refuge after losing everything and facing severe difficulties in securing basic necessities, with their only hope being escape to Egypt."

My name is Thaer Qanoo, and I’m a 26-year-old husband and father. My wife, Marah Abed, is just 21 years old and was studying pharmacy at Al-Azhar University in Gaza. We have a beautiful one-year-old daughter named Nai, who has spent most of her life fleeing from bombs and destruction.

I am a computer engineer passionate about web development, and I’ve had the privilege of working with several companies outside of Gaza. But because of the war, I lost my job. The internet and electricity have become luxuries we can no longer rely on, and companies outside Gaza no longer trust that we can work under these circumstances.

My wife Marah was close to fulfilling her dream of becoming a pharmacist, but the war also took that away. With the little money we had left, we could barely afford food, let alone continue her education.

We were forced to flee from our home in Northern Gaza to the south, leaving behind everything we had ever known. Our home, my family’s home, everything was destroyed. We are now living in a tent, exposed to the scorching heat of summer and the relentless rain of winter. Nai, my daughter, is suffering the most. She’s only one year old and has already lived through more horrors than most of us can imagine. We can’t even provide her with basic necessities like milk, food, or diapers. Her health is deteriorating because of the lack of proper care and nutrition.

We are desperately trying to escape to safety, to a place where our daughter can grow up without the constant fear of death. Our only hope is to cross the Rafah border into Egypt, but the costs of coordination and securing our passage are incredibly high.

We are reaching out to you, to anyone who can hear our plea, to help us escape this nightmare. Your donation can make the difference between life and death for my family. Please, help us find safety and give my daughter the chance to live a life free from the horrors of war.

Thank you for your kindness and generosity❤️.

🙏❤️🥲

My campaign Gofund.me vetted and share by @mohammedalanqer

Link gfm vetted >>>

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scientia-rex · 10 months ago

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Seems unfair that I’ve been telling Machiavelli Dad stories for literal years and people still accused me of making him up. I ASSURE you I could not possibly create this man in fiction. He has an IQ in the 150s. He cares about IQ, so you know he’s a dick. He grew up in abject rural poverty and clawed his way through an associate’s degree in electrical engineering that no one wanted him to or thought he could get. He showed up to the final of one class drunk off his ass because his professor had said at the beginning, jokingly, that if anyone got their electrician’s license before the end of the class, they would have an automatic A, and of course he did. He met my mom when he parked in her spot at their apartment complex that did not, let me assure you, have assigned spots and she yelled at him. He read bedtime stories (mostly about trains and how electronics work) to me every night until I was at least like 8. His friend and roommate in that first apartment building tried to kill my mother’s Siamese cat (they owned at least like 6 over time) in a rage by shutting it in a cooler; it was freed in time. He got so mean by the time I was 12 that I remember one day he came home from work when me, my mom, and my sister were standing around the top of the stairs and without saying a word to each other we just scattered; he said, like he was angry-joking, “why is everybody running away?” And I said to him, “we’re scared of you.” I don’t remember what happened next. Dad didn’t beat us, but he’d threaten. He’d take off his belt and snap it as a threat. He once lived with a guy who made his own nitroglycerin as a hobby and threatened to detonate an entire dorm when his girlfriend left him. That friend once accidentally bought two boa constrictors. The reason Dad and I stopped talking was when I texted them that I had cancer and they left me on read. The reason I stopped talking to Dad was that I finally realized the word for what he did to all of us was abuse. He built a swing set in our back yard using two retired telephone poles he got from work. The ropes were so tall you could spin the swing up enough to unwind for like 4 straight minutes with zero effort. He thought about becoming a lineman once and practiced climbing on those swing set telephone poles. Hornets nested in there afterwards.

If I were going to create a fictional father, I would either love him more or love him less.

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shjsnjkj · 3 months ago

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The Boy Next Door ┊ p.js

kinktober day 3! -masterlist

warnings: MDNI, make out, anxiety, unprotected sex,

genre: Smut

taglist:@blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @moonpri @blushbunini

wc: 2,8k✧.*

☆ bnd!jay x reader ; Thunderstorms, no electricity, no key to your apartment. The only thing you could do was to stay for the night at your neighbor, Jay's apartment.

“Why aren’t you eating the dessert, darling?” -your mother asked you.

“Mom, I’m full. I can’t eat more” -you said while holding your stomach.

“Alright, then. I will put this one in a box as well and you can share it with your lover boy” -she smiled at you.

“Mom, please don’t refer to him like that. I already told you — he’s just my neighbor. On top of that, I’m not sharing this delicious cherry pie with anyone!”

You were sitting at the usual family dinner at your parent’s house. Even though you were always tired, reuniting with your siblings and parents after a long week apart felt so comforting. You didn’t have to make dinner for yourself and could relax all afternoon.

“However, it was a bit uncomfortable sometimes. The reason was all the questions you received from your mom and siblings. Even though you were the middle child they had high expectations for you. Since everyone had a boyfriend or a girlfriend and you didn’t they had to mention it again and again. You didn’t understand why they made such a fuss and care about your love life but you were busy focusing on your own goals at first. Then love could come into your life. You got the “It’s just a cliché” sentences but you ignored those comments and ate your food in silence.

The second thing was your so-called lover boy, Jay. Your neighbor. Not your lover as they say it.

Since you moved in next to Jay, everyone's been talking about him non-stop.

Bringing up the memories, of when he helped your father bring your packages into your home or when Jay helped you put your sofa and wardrobe together. You felt at ease around him and his smile made your heart melt for a second.

You admit he’s sweet and acts like a gentleman but you’re just not ready for a relationship now.

“Okay guys, I guess I’m going to head home. Thanks for the dinner again.”

“Y/n don’t you want to stay for the night? There's a big thunderstorm coming, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to be driving in it on your way home."

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to call you when I get home.”

“Okay, sweetie. Take care, I love you” -she hugged you.

“I love you too Mom”

After you said goodbye to your family you got inside the car. With chilly, jazzy music you started the engine and drove home.

The clouds were already starting to form a big shape getting darker and darker as time passed. To be honest, you’ve always been afraid of thunderstorms and really wanted to get home before the storm started. So you pressed the gas pedal harder to make it home in a few minutes.

When you got out of the car your hands were full of packed food and raindrops started pouring from the sky.

You arrived safely and were delighted to spend the evening watching a movie while enjoying a cup of hot cocoa, taking your mind off the thunderstorm.

As you searched for your apartment key you bumped into Jay who was seemed to be coming home from work. He smiled at you softly which you returned.

“Do you need any help? I can hold your boxes.”

“Oh, no thank you. I can do it myself. I'm having a bit of trouble finding my keys, and I'm starting to get a bit stressed. ” -you said in a worried tone.

“Okay, Y/n if you need anything just let me know. I’m gonna be up. Have a good night.”

“Thank you, Jay. Have a good night too”

He went inside and you still looking for that freaking key. The lightning flashed on your face and panic started to take over you. It felt like you were trapped in a box and breath didn’t come easily to you.

“Y/n take it easy. Everything’s gonna be okay!” -you started to tear up.

“Perhaps, I should give Mom a callIt's already late, though. Chances are they've gone to sleep. I guess I'm stuck here in the cold stairway for the time being. All, alone, in the thunderstorm.” -you started to accept your situation and slid down at your door to the ground feeling anxious and tired.

You cried until you heard the door open next to you.

"Y/n, come on in. You need to stop being like this." -you slowly looked to the side and gazed up, only to meet Jay's eyes- "Come on, I can't leave you here."

"Jay, you really don't have to," -you said. "Y/n, please." -he stepped closer, took the bags from your hands, and took them inside. You were still sitting on the floor, so Jay didn't hesitate and picked you up in a bridal pose.

“Jay, put me down. Wait!”

"I'm not waiting around any longer. You didn't stand up, so I'll take you inside my home.”

You made your way from the dark stairway into the light. As Jay stepped over the doorstep, you were hit by a subtle orange scent. Although, his woody scent filled your senses completely. Since your hands were on his neck, your body was pressed up against his, his hands were holding your back and legs as well. All you could do was smell him and get goosebumps afterward. You hate to admit that something switched in you once you felt his scent and body. He held you so gently that you didn't want him to let you go.

"You can let go of me now," -he said, looking at you.

"Oh, right. My apologies." -you finally stood up and fixed your dress.

Jay showed you around his place. Even though you lived in the same building, his apartment was bigger than yours. It was full of designer furniture and decor. It was a perfect match, and the scent in his home was so captivating that you wouldn't want to leave. You also noticed a few guitars across his bedroom, and you got really excited because you loved the sound of the guitar. It always helps you relax.

"Jay, can you play the guitar for me?" -you asked him.

"The guitar?" Sure, why not? It's getting late, though. Maybe we can do it another time."

"Please, that would help me calm down." -you grabbed his arm.

"Y/n, you should eat something and get some rest. I'll play some music if you're going to be in bed."

"I'm not that hungry, but we can share the cherry pie my mother made."

"She made cherry pie? I love cherries. They're my favorite fruit!"

"Really? Then I hope you'll like it," -you said, smiling at him.

Once you'd turned off the lights, you made your way to the kitchen and opened the food box. There it was, the delicious pie with fresh cherries right next to it. Jay brought two plates and forks so you could finally taste the dessert. You took a bite and looked at him, only to see him tasting the cherry. The red fruit's juice ran down his pink lips, making them blood red. The juice almost dripped to his white designer shirt, so you quickly moved your finger to his jaw to stop it. Jay just looked at you and you blushed a bit from embarrassment. "It almost painted your shirt," -you said, taking your finger into your mouth and licking the juice off.

"Oh, thank you, Y/n."

Jay really liked the pie, and so did you. He asked you to bring your mother over to bake this pie for him again. You said you'd do it, but you know how your mother is, so I don't think she'd be too happy about it. You offered to help with the dishes, but Jay said no. Instead, he insisted you take a shower.

You agreed and went to the bathroom with Jay after behind you. He gave you one of his t-shirt, which was long enough to cover you, and put a towel on the rack to dry yourself with.

After he left the room you were alone with your thoughts and the candles that he lit up for you. You took off all your clothes and stepped into the shower. There was quite a selection of bodywashes to choose from. Since the orange scent filled your nose in Jay’s home you decided to go with that one. It felt amazing to be under the hot water and just think about nothing. Nothing, I mean Jay. He popped into your mind continuously and you couldn’t do anything to stop this. He is just too perfect and kind to you always. He even let you stay over for the night. You couldn’t count the times when he helped you. You were deep in your thoughts when the power suddenly turned off. Only the candles gave you a little light but you still couldn’t see anything.

“Jay!” -you called out to him for help.

“I’m here, Y/n can I come in?”

“Yes, please” -he opened the door- “Please don’t look, I’m still in the shower.”

“Okay. I’ll give you my hand. Just hold it and I’ll help you get dressed.”

You extended your arm to meet his hands and he took yours in his gentle grasp. You took slow steps, and Jay handed you the towel, then the t-shirt.

“I’m done” -you turned him around.

It was still dark but you felt his gaze on you. It made you smile, and you couldn’t help but blush. Jay led you to his bedroom and made sure that you were all tucked in the blanket. He sat down next to you with something in his hands. The moment you heard the beautiful sound you knew that he was playing the guitar for you. It made you feel more sleepy but also calmer. You were thankful for Jay for keeping you safe from the loud lightning and thunderstorms outside. “Now, sleep well Y/n. I’m going to be outside if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Jay. Goodnight.”

You went to dreamland but only managed to stay asleep for half an hour. You tried to go back to sleep but the lightning couldn’t let you do that. “Maybe Jay’s still up. I should ask him to play something for me again?” On the other hand, you thought this might be a bit much at that hour. You opted for a cup of hot milk instead. When you opened the door you instantly saw Jay lying on the sofa and sleeping like a baby. You didn’t want to bother him with any voice so you tiptoed to the kitchen until you heard his voice.

“Y/n why aren’t you sleeping?” -he asked in a low husky voice.

"I couldn't sleep" -you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm outside- "The thunder... it's still bothering me." You hesitated for a moment, feeling a mix of vulnerability and comfort in Jay's presence. "I was just going to make some hot milk to help me relax."

Jay sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Let me help you with that," he said softly, rising from the sofa. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, guiding you towards the kitchen. "I know a trick that might help you sleep better than just hot milk," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm against the storm's chaos.

In the dim kitchen, illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning, Jay moved with practiced ease. He reached for a small pot, poured in some milk, and set it on the stove. As he worked, he explained in a low, comforting voice, "We'll add a pinch of cinnamon and a touch of honey. It's an old family recipe - always helps me sleep on stormy nights." The warm, spicy aroma soon filled the air, momentarily drowning out your anxiety about the thunder.

As Jay stirred the milk, you leaned against the counter, watching him work. The gentle clink of the spoon against the pot and Jay's calm presence began to ease your nerves. When the milk was ready, he poured it into two mugs, the steam rising in delicate wisps. "Here," he said, offering you a warm mug. "Let's go sit down and enjoy this together."

You followed Jay to the living room, both of you cradling your warm mugs. As you settled onto the sofa, the storm outside seemed to fade into the background. The spiced milk warmed you from the inside, and Jay's presence beside you provided a comforting shield against the night's terrors. You sipped in companionable silence, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with each passing moment.

"Jay?"

"Hm?"

"I don't mean to be forward, but would it be okay for me to sleep here with you?" -you asked with a voice that was a little shaky.

“Of course. I assumed you’re not a fan of thunderstorms that’s why I put my tiredness aside and played you the guitar too. I want you to feel good and comfortable. Now come here, let’s sleep.”

You waited until Jay was settled in before you made your way over to the couch. You somehow managed to get down next to him, but Jay was only a few centimeters away. His eyes were bright and he was looking at you, so you couldn't help but look back at him. Jay had a way of captivating you, and your mind couldn't quite process the feelings your heart was having when you were this close to him. Then, you felt a warm hand on your shoulder and realized that Jay had pulled you into a hug. You swallowed nervously but could easily melt into his body. His thumbs were rubbing circles into your sides, and before you knew it, Jay's hands reached your upper thigh.

That moment, you realized that you didn't have anything underneath your t-shirt, or to be more precise, Jay's t-shirt. He was well aware, and you gave in. You gave in because he was so infuriatingly handsome, and all the things he did were just another turn-on for you. Even if you wanted to deny it, your body was telling the truth.

You leaned in for a kiss and finally met Jay's lips, which were as sweet as honey. His lips were soft, and your kiss turned into a passionate makeout session shortly after. You loved feeling his soft moans in your kiss and being all over him. His hands explored your body while you kissed his face and neck. As you sat on Jay's thigh, he looked at you, a bit surprised at how wet you were. You could care more, but there was no time for that. You started moving up and down on him, while your hands paused at the growing bulge in his pants. To make the moment even more intense, you started rubbing him through his pants, making him cry out for more of your touch. You can't help but smile when you see Jay acting like this. You slowly pulled down his pants and took his length into your mouth. He was already leaking precum, but you sucked on him until he was trembling under your touch. Jay's moans encouraged you to keep going. He gulped as he felt his erection grow harder. You stopped at this point. You pulled up your shirt, eager to be stretched out by Jay. To moan his name and feel him deep inside you.

Jay lined himself up with your entrance, and you slid down on him as slowly as you could. Your eyes got teary from the pleasure. He's right inside you, fitting perfectly.

"Jay," you said, your breath coming in gasps.

"F-fuck, baby. You feel so good." -he closed his eyes, keeping his hand on your waist.

You moved up and down, bouncing on him, resting your hand on his toned abs for support. The two of you were on the edge. You hadn't felt this way in a long time, and he helped you forget all the things that were stressing you out. As he hit your G-spot again and again, you felt a familiar knot building up in your stomach. Hot breaths and incoherent moans filled the room.

"Mhm, fuck Jay," -you said, rolling your eyes back.

"I'm going to cum, baby." -then you felt his cum filling up your hole. Just a second later, you came as well. You let out a series of moans from your pretty lips.

You collapsed onto Jay, your body finally giving in for the day. Once again, you melted into a sensual kiss, and he helped you clean up. You moved closer to Jay, still wanting to feel his presence nearby. He gave you a hug, just enough to feel his heartbeat. Before you knew it, you were sleeping next to him, feeling all the love he gave to you.

You didn't want the night to end, but you knew this was just the start of your love story. Even though you didn't want to start anything with Jay, you made love with him and you didn't regret it. You'd do it again by the time he wakes up next to you this morning. After all, he might be more than just the boy next door.

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kawareo · 6 months ago

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Thank you lovely people for giving me a chance to ramble more about something (this is genuine, i mean no shade)

I find it really cool how every character has a parallel with Durge! In general every single romance pairing has reasons for why i think "yeah i could see them being good together", but I love those for Durge especially since I think about Durges way too much

Gale. Prodigy, Chosen of a God(ess) with a relationship that went far past god/Chosen, with him and Mystra being 'lovers' and Durge and Bhaal being 'family'. They were also both groomed to a degree to fulfill a role and have since fallen from grace of their gods.

Lae'zel. Raised in what is essentially a cult, having her entire world fall apart when she learns the truth about Vlaakith and Orpheus (while Durge's world falls apart when they learn about who they are in act 3). Cult has harsh and merciless punishments for those that disappoint, with death and beatings for githyanki and... Well. You know what, for Durge (looking at you, deleted bad ending).

Shadowheart. Having an equivalent of an electric collar on you that her God(ess) can punish her with (for Durge, that punishment isnt so immediate but Bhaal can literally stop their heart if he wants to). Amnesia. Having to choose between leading your cult or leaving everything you thought you knew and being an outcast. Depending on what you do with Shart, they also both kill their parents.

Karlach. Having your body changed without your consent, in drastic ways that you have no control over; the engine for Karlach, lobotomy + Slayer form for Durge (slayer in a more minor way but i will say that even in evil route you dont get a say whether or not you transform the first time). They both hurt people that get close to then without meaning to. They both have someone more powerful who sees them as property. Also, ties to Gortash.

Wyll. Daddy issues! And being rejected and outcast by your Father, wanting to prove yourself that you're still worthy. They were also both given shitty fucking names by their dads. They both at some point chose between power at the cost of freedom and freedom at the cost of literally everything; Wyll when he made a deal with Mizora, Durge at multiple points through the game when it comes to Bhaal. They both struggle with being tied to an evil, manipulative being that wants them isolated and weak and alone. Similar with Karlach, unwilling body modification, but specifically one that turns you into a 'monster'.

Astarion. 'Father'. 'Siblings' that you are in constant and brutal competition with, for momentary approval of your Creator who will never have enough of anything short but the world. Creator who's end goal very much includes you dying for him. Having no bodily autonomy as your Creator can literally violate your mind whenever. Sexual abuse. Struggling with bloodthirst! Your existence itself is violent, you can't live without hurting someone! (Bloodthirst for Ass, Urges for Durge)

Halsin. (Potential) guilt for something you have done, being pushed in a leadership position (Halsin at the grove, Durge with companions) that you may or may not be unsuited for. Being so, so alone, without anyone to care for your feelings. They both also have sides of them that they sometimes can't control, with the Bear and Urges, or more literally, the Slayer.

Minthara. A proud and efficent warrior that got one upped by a person they underestimated. Ties to Orin. Living as someone with the highest social status in a brutal, cruel society. Fanatic worship of an objectively evil god(ess) and then the betrayal that follows, waking up from quite literal brainwashing, seeing how your God(ess) turns against you.

And I could go on! Theyre all so good and interesting and depending on what path you decide to take, there is always something that Durge can relate to on with any companion! I tried to avoid repeating points or talking about my Durge specifically by just talking about what is set in canon for them, and there is still! So! Much!

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anqar-salem · 2 months ago

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🔥 Cry for Salvation: Salem and His Family in the Heart of Hell 💔🍉🕊🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/aa452f97

I am Salem, 27 years old, from Gaza. My life used to be simple, full of hope and ambition. After graduating from university, I dreamed of becoming an electrical engineer, but harsh circumstances forced me to migrate before the war broke out. 🏚️ My dreams were shattered under the fire of bombardment, and now I live far from my family, in a camp on the shores of Greece, facing darkness from every side. 🏝️

After graduation, I faced a harsh reality: the lack of job opportunities pushed me to find any way to earn a living, so I was forced to work in a sanitary ware factory. 🏭 This job was far from my dream, but I had to support my family. However, in a tragic moment, I suffered a severe injury to my leg, leaving me 85% disabled, and robbing me of the ability to work and provide for my family.

My family, whom I left behind, is now living a daily nightmare. After being displaced from northern Gaza, they were crowded into a school 🏫 turned into a shelter for the displaced, where five families are crammed into one classroom, after our home was completely destroyed under heavy bombing. No privacy, no hope, and with every passing moment, tension and fear grow. 🏘️

My mother, who suffers from diabetes and high blood pressure 💉, endures without treatment, and my father, who was once our support, has become immobile, unable to move. Whenever I speak to them, I see despair in their eyes, as if they are waiting for a tragic end.

I am here asking for your help, as I am unable to save them on my own. I migrated in search of treatment for myself and to help my family improve their circumstances, but the road remains difficult.

The goal of this campaign is to help them migrate from this nightmare to a place that offers them safety and dignity. 🇵🇸

Your donation is not just financial aid—it's a lifeline for my family, a chance to escape this hell. 🙏**

Don't wait for tomorrow. Donate now, because every passing second adds to their suffering. You are the hope that can save my family. 🚨 Every dirham, every dinar, every dollar means the difference between life and death.

https://gofund.me/aa452f97

Be the light in the darkness, donate now, and give my family a chance to live with dignity once again. 🕊️💔

@heritageposts @turtletoria @valtsv @anneemay @tamamita @annabelle--cane @schoolhatergirl

@prinnay @pregnantseinfeld @bigandgreedy @pcktknife @punkitt-is-here @paper-mario-wiki

@ot3 @tamamita @killy @4ft10tvlandfangirl @nabulsi @27moremoons @90-ghost @palms-upturned

@palipunk @komsomolka @comrademango @sabertoothwalrus @quasi-normalcy @3000s

@victoriawhimsey @irhen07 @irhabiya @davepeta @eternal-fractal @shencomix @miiilowo

@crapscicle @autisticmudkip @apollo

My campaign vetted by @gazavetters My number on the list is (20)

#free gaza #og #all eyes on palestine #free palestine #save palestine #palestinian genocide #i stand with palestine #gaza strip #gaza genocide #gaza #free gazze #palestine fundraiser

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abunabilfamily · 3 days ago

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A Cry from Beneath the Rubble🚨

My name is Mohammad Nabeel Al-Anqar, a father of three young children: Lama (10 years old), Nabeel (8 years old), and Amir (4 years old). I used to work as an aluminum technician, building a modest future for my small family in Gaza. We lived in a humble home, dreaming of a safe and stable life, until the bombing came and turned our lives into a nightmare. 💔

Our house was partially destroyed by the shelling. 🏚️ We tried to stay, but the cracked walls and collapsing ceilings made it uninhabitable. We had no choice but to flee, seeking a refuge to protect our children from this horror.

Now, we find ourselves in a shelter in the southern part of the Gaza Strip, a school under construction that lacks the most basic necessities of life. 🏫 There is no clean drinking water, no electricity, and no sewage system. The bitter cold haunts us day and night, and my children shiver every night under a single old blanket that barely covers them. ❄️

I lost my job and my source of income. 💼❌ I can no longer provide the basic needs for my family. My children have no school to attend. 📚 Lama’s dreams of becoming a doctor, Nabeel’s hopes of becoming an engineer, and even Amir’s innocent laughter have all faded into distant memories amidst the devastation.

Today, I write these words with tears of a father who feels powerless to provide his children with their simplest rights to live. 😢 I humbly ask for your help. 🙏 Every small donation, every share of my campaign, could be the lifeline that restores hope to my family.

Help me bring back the smiles to my children, who have known nothing but fear and destruction in this life. 🌟

You can see that they’re vetted by gazavetters here #11

Please donate here.

@tamamita @punkitt-is-here @2spirit-0spoons-deactivated2024 @paper-mario-wiki @omegaversereloaded @ko60192-newartblog-032h44 @nyancrimew @90-ghost @beserkerjewel @ot3 @prisonhannibal @aimasu @anneemay @dirhwangdaseul @neechees @memingursa @certifiedsexed @afro-elf @11thsense @sawasawako @girlinafairytalelovestory @spacebeards @skipppppy @3000s @dailyquests @evillesbianvillain @wolfertinger666 @taffybuns @valtsv @postanagramgenerator @crabussy @balaclava-trismegistus @elpeor @factsilike @carry-on-my-wayward-butt @tpwrtrmnky @c-53 @odddogs @darthteeth

“Hello, I hope this message finds you well 🌸. I kindly ask for your support by sharing my post. Every share can make a difference in saving my family and bringing hope back to my children who have lost everything due to the war. I deeply appreciate your kindness and humanity 🙏🌟.”

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musicfren · 4 months ago

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Help Mohammed Rebuild His Home And Complete His Education!

I have helped set up this GoFundMe on behalf of Mohammed M Siam, who is not on Tumblr but is vetted through a friend of mine. I don't know how else this is going to get traction, so I'm gonna try to boost it here. Mohammed is a 23 yo Palestinian IT student whose home was destroyed by an IOF attack. He is trying to raise funds to rebuild as much of his home as he can manage and cover basic survival needs. If we're able to meet this goal, he hopes to raise enough money to travel outside Gaza and continue his education. In Mohammed's own words:

Mohammed's Story: A Gazan's Journey Through War and Loss.

My name is Mohammed, a 23-year-old young man from the heart of Gaza, Khan Yunis. My story is one of resilience, loss, and a burning hope for the future.

The war ripped through our lives with a ferocity that left scars on our hearts and our city. We were forced to flee our homes, seeking refuge from the relentless bombing that turned our once vibrant streets into a landscape of dust and debris. The "Al-Arous Ice Cream Factory," a familiar landmark and a source of joy, was reduced to rubble, a symbol of the devastation that engulfed us.

The journey of displacement has been long and arduous, stretching over ten months. We have endured hunger, the constant threat of violence, and the agonizing lack of essential medications. This shortage has created a desperate situation, particularly for those with chronic illnesses who struggle to find the treatment they need.

Our home, a testament to the love and hard work of my family, was shattered beyond repair. My brother, who had only recently begun his life with his wife, lost everything – their home, belongings, even their dreams for a future together. My father's shop, the cornerstone of our family's livelihood, was also destroyed, leaving us with nothing but the painful memories of what we had lost.

I, too, was a victim of the war's destruction. My pursuit of knowledge at the Islamic University of Gaza, where I was excelling in Information Technology, was abruptly halted. The university, a beacon of hope for countless students, lay in ruins.

We are now left with nothing but the clothes on our backs and the unwavering spirit to rebuild. My plea is for assistance – any help, however small – to rebuild our homes, our lives, and to restore the future we have lost. I long to complete my education outside of Gaza, where I can pursue my dreams in safety and peace of mind.

I hope that my story will touch your heart and inspire you to offer a hand of support. Together, we can help rebuild Gaza and give hope to those who have suffered so much.

This is Mohammed's story, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable adversity.

أنا محمد، شاب في الـ 23 من العمر، من قلب غزة، خان يونس. قصتي هي قصة صمود وخسارة وأمل مشتعل بالمستقبل.

الحرب مزقت حياتنا بعنف ترك ندوبًا على قلوبنا ومدينتنا. اضطررنا للفرار من منازلنا، بحثًا عن ملجأ من القصف المتواصل الذي حول شوارعنا النابضة بالحياة إلى مشهد من الغبار والركام. مصنع "العروس للآيس كريم"، معلم مألوف ومصدر للفرح، تحول إلى ركام، رمزًا للدمار الذي اجتاحنا.

رحلة النزوح كانت طويلة وشاقة، امتدت لأكثر من عشرة أشهر. تحملنا الجوع، والتهديد المستمر بالعنف، ونقص الأدوية الأساسية المُؤلم. هذا النقص خلق وضعًا يائسًا، خاصةً بالنسبة لأولئك الذين يعانون من أمراض مزمنة ويصعب عليهم العثور على العلاج الذي يحتاجونه.

منزلنا، شهادة على حب وعمل عائلتي، تحطم بشكل لا يمكن إصلاحه. أخي، الذي بدأ حياته حديثًا مع زوجته، خسر كل شيء - منزله، ممتلكاته، حتى أحلامه لمستقبل مشترك. محل أبي، ركيزة رزق عائلتنا، دُمر أيضًا، تاركًا لنا ذكريات مؤلمة لما فقدناه.

أنا أيضًا كنت ضحية لدمار الحرب. طموحي في المعرفة بجامعة الإٍسلامية في غزة، حيث كنت أتميز في تكنولوجيا المعلومات، توقف فجأة. الجامعة، منارة أمل للعديد من الطلاب، تحولت إلى أنقاض.

لم يبق لنا الآن سوى الملابس على ظهورنا وعزيمة لا تتزعزع لإعادة البناء. مناشدتي هي المساعدة - أي مساعدة، مهما كانت صغيرة - لإعادة بناء منازلنا، وحياتنا، واستعادة المستقبل الذي فقدناه. أطمح لإكمال تعليمي خارج غزة، حيث يمكنني متابعة أحلامي بأمان وهدوء بال.

آمل أن تلامس قصتي قلبك وتلهمك لتقديم يد العون. معًا، يمكنكم المساعدة في إعادة بناء غزة وإعطاء الأمل لمن عانوا كثيرًا.

هذه قصتي، شهادة على صمود الروح البشرية في وجه محنة لا تُصدق.

Before the destruction:

After:

tagging below the cut

@dlxxv-vetted-donations @fairuzfan @nottesilhouette @ethanscrocs @newdog14 @funds4gaza

#palestine #free palestine #gaza

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mangocheesecakes · 7 months ago

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Hello

My name is Ahmed I'm from Gaza, i am engineer I created this link in order to save my elder parents and my brothers and sisters from the cruel horrors of war and take them to a safe place.

Our house and all our shops were completely destroyed, and we were displaced to an unlivable area in Rafah, and then we were displaced to a tent inside which we felt as if we were in a hot oven.

We suffer in our lives inside the tent. There is no water, electricity, or food, not even enough flour to make bread.

My father and mother's health condition is getting worse day by day due to the lack of food, medicine, and health care

I created this campaign so that I could travel to a safe place, as the cost of travel per person reaches $5,000.

My family and I will be very grateful for your help

https://gofund.me/815dac1e

Hello, Ahmed. I'm so very sorry for not being able to answer your ask for so long. I hope you and your parents are alright.

User @/nabulsi has vetted Ahmed's fundraiser here. Please do not hesitate to donate and keep sharing his posts and link.

Please consider putting together even just the equivalent of £5 in your currency and send it Ahmed's way. Encourage your friends and family to give some as well.

His fundraiser is only at £125 (!!) / £30,000 as of this post.

#palestine #free palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #mutual aid #ahmed-ziad

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earlycuntsets · 3 months ago

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"Wanted: 1979 Pontiac Trans Am

Tuesday March 24, 2009 | Posted by: Gerard

Some of you, who have seen my twitter about wanting a 1979 Pontiac Trans Am, may be asking yourselves, "Is this for real?"

And my answer to you is one-hundred percent MFR ("Mad Fucking Real" for short).

Some of you may be asking, "Why?" , so I provided this photograph to answer your questions, and if you need further persuasion-

Quite simply, I need the vehicle for "research and exploration". I will be researching the high-voltage hydra known as the 9th dimension , I will be exploring the barriers of speed and time, the history of heavy-metal haircuts, and the 24-Hr rest-stop cappuccino.

I will be chasing the "electric-manticore", and unlocking the riddle of "Muscle Mystery" in this muscle-machine, and it will most likely occur in the desert.

Now that I've assuaged your curiosity, here's what I'm looking for, more or less, and some might think I'm picky, but I think you should be picky when looking for such an important piece of scientific equipment.

***What I want*** First and foremost, I want a good car. It doesn't have to be great, it doesn't need to have been kept in an airtight garage for 30 years, but I would prefer something that's not a piece of shit. I would like it to be in California, close to or within the greater Los Angeles area. I would also like "the fast engine" to show you how much I know about cars, though I have friends with vast automotive knowledge, and my father was a mechanic when I was a child. I want it to run, run well, and have no rust. Oh and it needs to be an automatic, as I can't drive stick (suprise!).

***Colors and specifics*** Exteriors (in order of awesome): Silver, the color of steel, and the eye of the falcon. Faded, slightly shitty, or semi-bombed out looking Nocturne Blue. This color looks great with some age. Mad-Max Black. Shitty bombed-out Red/Orange

Obviously I am looking for something with a bit of character but I will settle for better shape for a better car.

I am open to other things but I absolutely do not want Gold, Brown, or that frigging Smokey and The Bandit car- that shit is whack.

Interiors (again in "awesome order") Red leather (combined with a silver exterior is an ideal car for me- like a fucking Mach-5 red-velvet cupcake with Terminator 2 frosting) Black leather (of course) Blue (cuz it's cool, but this limits what I can paint the exterior if I choose to do so) Interior material is not as much a deal breaker as a bad color.

I've seen the "Anniversary Edition" '79 Trans and I like it but something about the silver leather interior rubs me weird. Looks like pudding, and a light color will only stain when I shit my pants as I tear-ass through scorched earth.

T-Tops a BIG plus.

All of this stuff I am semi-flexible on, as I just want a great car, but I think I will know the right one when I see it.

***Important*** No scams or hustles. I won't have cash on me, and I'm not important enough to kidnap, but if you've got the right car and the right "vibe" I can find us someone important enough to kidnap together- IN-THE-CAR-YOU-JUST-SOLD-ME. Like, for example, the Jonas Brothers. I have been on T.V. and I have access.

You bring the 'bird- I'm bringing "British Steel" by Judas Priest.

xo g

PS- Thanks for everyone's help thus far- you guys are great. I will be looking in the twitter replies for leads. ***Update*** I have noticed that some people are wondering if I am having a mid-life crisis or asking why I am not buying a station wagon or something for a baby. Answers! Firstly, I am only 31, so I have a bit of time before that whole "crisis" thing, and secondly- I've run the numbers on car safety and have come to the conclusion that this IS the car for the baby. This thing is a tank. Usually, when people get into accidents while driving a Trans Am they usually ask "How is the other guy?". Trust me. I got this."

from gerards blog on mychemicalromance.com 03/24/2009

#gerards trans am search 2009 #omg he's hilarious in this #“this IS the car for the baby”#mad fucking real #(mfr)#my chemical romance #mcr #gerard way

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