#protest in Holland
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burn the village, feel the warmth // utrecht, netherlands // 2017 // ©
#my photos#original photographers#photographers on tumblr#travel#photography#europe#photooftheday#netherlands#the netherlands#holland#utrecht#amsterdam#art#public art#protest#london riots#night#low light#lights and shadows#neon
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#boycott israel#boycott divest sanction#European universities divest#putting their money where their mouth is#protests work#dont give up#apartheid#save palestine#israel is an apartheid state#ethnic cleansing#free palestine 🇵🇸#genocide#ghent#Helsinki#barcelona#spain#milan#italy#belgium#finland#Amsterdam#holland#ireland#dublin#trinity college#norway#brussels#solidarity#let your voice be heard#protest for palestine
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big gripe with florence that she never releases what are clearly the best songs on the album as singles. specifically mother from hbhbhb, 100 years from high as hope, and dream girl evil all from dance fever should have been singles.
#im pretty sure its her label not pushing them bc they dont have 'mainstream appeal'#songs about your mom and political protest ig cant be leading singles but cmon#actually w dance fever choreomania should also have been a single- like i would have picked choreomania over free without question#at minimum i think 100 years and dream girl evil were both supposed to be singles and the label nixed them#just bc of how she uses them in her concerts and live performances. haunted by the jools holland pre-release performance of 100 years
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#levan gelbakhiani#agnieszka holland#say#could there be better movie recommendation#than far-right groups protesting against it announcing ''I know it's a disgrace to our nation without even watching''#?#that's how it was with#და ჩვენ ვიცეკვეთ#and that's how it is now with#zielona granica#green border
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Protestant church in Oegstgeest, South Holland, Netherlands
Dutch vintage postcard, mailed in 1901 to Leiden
#netherlands#south holland#carte postale#postkarte#historic#postcard#oegstgeest#sepia#ansichtskarte#postkaart#tarjeta#holland#1901#dutch#south#leiden#briefkaart#ephemera#photography#protestant#church#mailed#vintage#postal#photo
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The tombs of a Catholic woman and her Protestant husband, Holland, 1888.
#Ancestors Alive!#What is Remembered Lives#Memory & Spirit of Place#tombs#Catholic#Protestant#Holland#those were the days#separation#love#religion
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it's astounding how pr & marketing people, people whose entire job & education revolves around knowing what people like & enjoy or how they think, so often have no fucking idea what people like & enjoy or how they think
#thinking back to our old president françois hollande who had this... gesture he did while saying his slogan ???#like he thought it would catch on as some kind of symbol for his ideology of milquetoast ineffective socialism#that people would be doing it at protests & meetings like they do the raised fist or peace symbol#and just. no ? no. nobody is going to ritualistically perform the little hand movement promoting One Particular Politician#it's just not what people do#the truth is any attempt to force virality is just doomed to fail#you can't carefully cook up something that everyone will get behind and prop up as the new trend#it either happens or it doesn't. it's arbitrary#y'know how people say ''god works in mysterious ways'' so do people's tastes
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Navigating Dutch Realities: 10 Key Insights into Culture, Education, and Politics (9)
This time we will dive into the issue of Dutch religious divide between Protestants and Catholics. The religious division, historically split between the Protestant north and the Catholic south, has deep roots dating back to the Spanish conquest of the region and the Reformation. Let’s dive into a bit of history so you will get to understand the cultural differances in Holland. Historical…
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The Algerian delegation has thrown flowers in the Seine where Algerians were drowned by the police after a peaceful protest against a racist curfew in the midst of their fight for their independence on 17 October 1961.
Other Algerians were beaten to death or shot. The number of deaths is estimated to be between 120 and 200.
The French government denied and hid the massacre for decades, their official version of the story being that only 3 people died because they had fought amongst themselves. The admission of responsibility from the French government only came in 2012 when then President François Hollande acknowledged that the violent repression had led to their deaths.
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Reuters Canada: Protesters storm Suriname's parliament as anti-austerity rally turns chaotic
PARAMARIBO, Feb 17 (Reuters) - Dozens of protesters forced their way into Suriname's parliament as hundreds more rampaged through the capital Paramaribo on Friday, clashing with police as demonstrations against the government descended into chaos.
Thousands took to the streets in initially peaceful demonstrations against government austerity measures, including the elimination of subsidies, against a backdrop of high inflation.
But the protests turned ugly when demonstrators throwing rocks and bottles at police stormed parliament's grounds, with some making their way into the building before being forced back, a Reuters witness said. Police fired tear gas in return.
Others started fires and looted shops, many of which had closed as a precaution amid the unrest.
The government of President Chan Santokhi condemned the violence, saying in a statement it had set up a task force to track down those responsible for attacking parliament.
Santokhi's office urged citizens to avoid downtown and busy locations, saying there had been 50 arrests "and this number will continue to rise."
Latest Updates
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Ecuador, Belgium sign deal to fight crime after mega cocaine bust
Spain to extend seasonal migrant workers programme to Senegal
The U.S embassy in Paramaribo condemned the attack on the National Assembly building and related violence in a statement, calling the incidents an "unacceptable assault on democracy."
Suriname's Ministry of Economy, Entrepreneurship and Technological Innovation advised businesses owners to shut their premises on Friday and Saturday, due to safety concerns.
Five business associations advised the community to remain closed until further notice, saying in a statement that "security forces were insufficiently prepared for the escalation" of violence.
Suriname, a former Dutch colony in northern South America with a population of 610,000, reported inflation of 54.6% for 2022.
The protests come in the same week that the smallest party in government left the ruling coalition, citing disagreements over poverty and social policies.
#Suriname#bird flu#holland#Protesters storm Suriname's parliament as anti-austerity rally turns chaotic
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Emily fox, on the pitch, (sarcastically) “aw baby I’m sorry did that hurt”
I’m thinking enemies to flirts to lovers
frenemies II e.fox
"well good morning sunshine!" lotte laughed as you sat down beside her with a huff, dropping your bag to the ground and rummaging through it with a hum.
"woke up on the wrong side of the bed did we?" the girl teased pulling on her boots as you sighed. "you have no idea. this is going to be a long day!" you warned as the girl squeezed your shoulder sympathetically, the pair of you falling into conversation.
you smelled her before you saw her, the familiar waft of perfume hitting you before the sound of her laugh did, glancing up to see her walk in with alessia, chirpy grin on her face as usual.
"now now, play nice today even if you are grumpy!" lotte warned with a grin as you knocked your knee against hers with a playful roll of your eyes. "its not me whose the problem lots, you know that better than most." you quipped tugging your socks up as emily sat down across the room.
catching her eye yours rolled again as she sent you a wink, tuning back into her conversation with alessia. "i know you're both as bad as each other, she's been here for months now. wave the white flag! be the bigger person." lotte cautioned gently.
"so you admit she's not the bigger person? so she is in fact, the problem?" you grinned gleefully as your friend sighed at the take. "theres that selective hearing. you might want the long sleeve, we're set for rain!" lotte warned as you groaned quietly and unzipped your bag again.
though as you pulled out the top you quickly realised the number on it was not yours and pushed it hastily back in. "i'll survive." you brushed off her concerns as lotte only shrugged. "come on miss holland, off we go." you teased pulling her beanie down over her eyes and standing.
"not again with the tom holland reference! i don't look like him at all." lotte groaned in annoyance as you only grinned. "no i think its more like one of the robbers from home alone." your smile dropped at the familiar voice, lotte shoving emily with a playful glare before walking off with alessia.
"fox." you greeted shortly, the pair of you following after the girls in front who'd fallen into their own conversation. "as if the english weather isn't cold enough, that tones gonna give me hypothermia." the american shuddered rubbing at her arms as you rolled your eyes.
"oh come on! that was funny, you're allowed to laugh!" emily protested as you strode ahead, hurrying after you. "maybe at you, never with you." you warned, holding back a smile as your boots touched grass and you were able to hurry off to another group of girls.
your mood didn't improve during training, in fact it only got worse as indeed lotte was right and the skies opened up, the rain pouring down the last fifteen or so minutes of training.
given it was the last one before the game this weekend you didn't let it stop you, pushing through at the management teams instructions, breaking off into smaller teams for a round robin of games and a cool down.
all morning emily had been trying to get on your last nerve, her own patience wearing thin as you ignored her time and time again taking lottes advice to be the bigger person albeit the white flag.
but as the rain became near torrential and suddenly you were taken down to the ground a lot harder than necessary considering you'd already given up the ball your tolerance grated.
again and again your back hit the turf with only one culprint taking your legs out each time, your training top coated with mud and bib soggy against your chest as beth whipped a goal into the top corner to end the game and the whistles to finish training finally blew.
right as you'd completed the pass to her again your legs were swept out, wincing as your ass thumped into the ground but you clapped at beths goal none the less not wanting to be a bad teammate.
"aw baby i'm sorry, did that hurt?" a smirk hovered over you accompanied by an american accent and a very punchable face as the girl held out her hand to help you up.
with a glowering scowl sent up at her you smacked her hand away, climbing to your own feet and storming away, hearing her follow after you as the rest of the girls sprinted back into the building to shower and change before media.
but right as you went to step foot into the locker room a hand grabbed yours, tugging you away into one of the recovery rooms as the door closed with a click.
you sighed deeply at the grin which shone back at you, crossing your arms and glaring at her when she refused to move out of the way of the door.
"come on stop the frowning. i said i was sorry!" the american laughed stepping closer as you shook your head. "that doesn't mean i have to accept your apology." you reminded firmly, unwavering as she rolled her eyes.
"no. but only one of us is currently wearing something with a collar and ah...the rain has not been kind to you." emily tutted her hand moving to settle on your shoulder and you hissed as her thumb pressed into a deep red mark on your neck and you smacked it away.
with a groan you moved toward a mirror in the corner, turning your head left and right inspecting the marks you'd covered this morning before leaving, the rain indeed having washed most of the concealer off.
"this is your fault fox!" you advanced toward her as she only smiled, meeting you chest to chest. "yeah. so?" she challenged with a quirk of her eyebrow, your mouth opening and closing trying to find a comeback.
"exactly. you weren't saying anything last night when they appeared!" emily grinned cheekily as you only huffed, shoving her and making a beeline for the door before her hand grabbed yours and twirled you so you wound up chest to chest with her again.
"kind of hard to with your tongue down my throat." you scoffed only widening her beaming grin, her face near split in half as tattooed fingers traced the hickies with a feather light touch.
"let me take you to dinner tonight." now that did catch you off guard, stepping away from her with a frown. ever since she'd signed the american had wedged her way under your skin, the pair of you clashing heads and forever arguing, broken up and told off by your teammates.
though it never translated to the pitch, the two of you working seamlessly together down the right side much to everyones shock given how you seemed to loathe one another in every other sense.
but little did they know it was due to the release you two had figured out helped your contempt for one another, and for weeks now the two of you had been sneaking around one anothers beds, always gone by the morning and never more than that.
so you'd hardly expected these words to come out of her mouth.
"what?" you managed out in shock, emily stepping closer with a nod. "dinner. at a nice restaurant, the two of us. tonight ideally!" the defender explained, sticking by her words.
"but thats not-thats not what we do." you declined with a shake of your head as she shrugged unfazed by the rejection.
"well there has to be some middle ground in this enemies to lovers pipeline, you think you hate me but really you don't even know me. i'd like to change that, to change whatever this is." emily confessed confidently again catching you off guard.
when you didn't reply the girl only grinned, pulling off her spray jacket and handing it to you to put on to cover the marks on your neck.
"great, i'll pick you up at seven then baby. wear something...dry! oh and i want that jacket back, since someone else stole my long sleeve." she winked teasingly, and just like that she was gone.
#woso#woso community#emily fox#emily fox x reader#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs
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𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭-𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
Parings → Tom Holland x Reader
Warnings → fluff
Summary → During a photoshoot, Tom teases Y/n about admiring him too much, leading to playful banter and a messy hug.
Ps: Had to write something with this photoshoot 🥵
The studio was buzzing with activity. Bright lights illuminated every corner of the large garage set where Tom was in the middle of his latest photoshoot. He stood in front of an old, beat-up car, his jeans low on his hips, his white tank top hanging off his shoulders, smudged with grease and dirt for the aesthetic. His body was toned and defined, every muscle a testament to the hours of work he’d put in at the gym.
From where you and Harry stood, leaning against a table piled with props, it was impossible not to stare. Tom looked incredible. He exuded confidence, casually wiping sweat and fake grease off his face with his tank. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and apparently, Harry noticed.
“You alright there, Y/n?” Harry asked, a hint of amusement lacing his tone.
“Hm?” You replied absentmindedly, still staring at Tom as he adjusted his stance for another shot.
Harry rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Earth to Y/n! You completely stopped listening to me two minutes ago. Don’t start drooling now.”
Your eyes snapped to Harry, and you flushed slightly. “I’m not drooling!” You shot back, a little too defensively.
Harry smirked, crossing his arms. “You were about to. I’m telling Tom.”
“Don’t you dare,” you warned, narrowing your eyes at him.
Before Harry could say anything else, the photographer called for a quick break, giving Tom a moment to relax. He grabbed a water bottle and headed your way, his eyes lighting up when he saw you.
“Hey, babe,” Tom greeted, his voice warm and teasing as he approached. His eyes scanned your face, and a sly grin appeared. “Why are you so red?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but Harry beat you to it. “Oh, she was enjoying the view a bit too much, mate.”
“Shut up, Harry!” You said, your cheeks heating even more.
Tom’s grin widened as he leaned against the table beside you, his sweat and grease making him look even more effortlessly charming. “Aw, come on, darling,” he teased, his voice dropping slightly, “it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“Ugh, gross,” Harry groaned, dramatically rolling his eyes. “Do you two ever turn this lovey dovey thing off?”
Tom ignored his brother, turning his full attention to you. His smirk softened into a playful pout. “You’re not gonna come give me a hug, love?”
Your nose scrunched up as you took a step back. “Absolutely not. Don’t come near me until you shower and scrub all that dirt off.”
“Aw, come on,” Tom whined, stepping toward you.
“Nope,” you said firmly, holding your hands up to stop him.
“Pleaseeeee,” he pleaded, dragging out the word.
“Nuh uh, not happening.”
“At least a kiss, please,” he pleaded, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes.
You bit your lip, trying to stay firm, but it was impossible to resist him when he looked at you like that. With a sigh, you relented. “Fine, but don’t touch me. Just bend down.”
Tom immediately obeyed, leaning down with a victorious grin. You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, but before you could pull back, his arms shot out and wrapped around you, pulling you against his dirty chest.
“Tom!” You yelped, squirming in his grip.
“Gotcha,” he said with a laugh, holding you tightly despite your protests.
“Let me go! You’re disgusting!”
“You love me,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Ugh, not right now, I really don’t,” you shot back, though you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.
Harry groaned loudly, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging it down in one go. “I’m suffocating in here. Can’t you guys wait until you’re alone?”
Tom laughed, finally releasing you, though he kept an arm around your waist. “You’re just jealous, mate.”
“Jealous? Of you two? No thanks,” Harry said, shoving Tom lightly. “Just don’t get your grossness on me.”
“Don’t worry, Baz,” Tom said with a wink. “All my grossness is reserved for my love.”
You rolled your eyes, wiping some of the dirt off your arm. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Holland.”
“I know,” he said smugly, leaning down to steal another quick kiss before you could stop him.
∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗
#tom holland#tomholland2013#thollandsgirl2013#tom holland spiderman#spider man#tom holland fanfiction#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker x reader#tom holland photoshoot#tom holland actor#tom holland x fem!reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x you#tom holland x reader#fanfiction
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By David de Bruijn
Many are shocked, wondering how this could happen in the Netherlands.
To me, their bafflement is what’s shocking.
I grew up in The Hague, where real and abundant antisemitism, from epithets in the street to physical threats to the community’s safety, was part of our daily life. As a young boy, I vividly recall how The Hague's football hooligans—viciously opposed to Ajax, Amsterdam’s “Jewish” team—walked the streets under a banner reading “We’re hunting for Jews.” (Indeed, for my entire life, football stadiums in my home country have been filled with lurid chants like “Hamas, Hamas, all the Jews on gas!” and “My dad was in the commandos, my mom was in the SS, we like to burn Jews, because Jews burn the best.”)
In high school, second- or third-generation Moroccan kids would point and hiss “Psst, psst, that’s a Jew, that’s a Jew!” as they passed by on their bikes.
But most impactful were the myriad security measures our community had to undertake. Seen from the front, The Hague synagogue is not recognizable, two thick green doors presenting a closed facade to the street. Behind these doors are glass doors that open only once additional permission is given. All the windows are made of bulletproof glass. A permanent police post guards the synagogue. In Amsterdam, the Jewish primary school has even more dystopian levels of protection, hidden behind several layers of metal spikes and fencing. From the outside, the view of the school is entirely closed off. (Even as I write this, I feel uncomfortably conscious of not revealing any sensitive security details.)
Self-protection was a constant—and to me, natural—part of Jewish life. Leading youngsters to a summer camp in northern Friesland meant bringing a dedicated security team and, when possible, keeping quiet the fact that it was Jewish children gathering here.
Violent, antisemitic assaults have become increasingly regular occurrences. In May, a student at the University of Amsterdam, a young man, was assaulted by a protester in a keffiyeh, struck in the head with a wooden plank. In August, a statue of Anne Frank was defaced—for the second time—with anti-Israel graffiti. Today, walking around with a kippah in the Netherlands is an act that requires bravery.
As the situation worsened over the years—motivating some, including me, to move, others to adjust, and so many to worry—one of the most painful aspects was the way the Jewish community was gaslit. Dutch society repeatedly told its post-Holocaust Jewish remnant—and itself—that “never again” was not merely a concrete promise, but a core concept of modern Dutch morality. However, the dominant culture of the country’s immigrant communities has proven manifestly hostile to that worldview—and to Jews.
For the North Africans living in Holland, the dominant Jewish story of the twentieth century is not Auschwitz, it is Israel, which in their distorted conception is an illegitimate, one-directional criminal enterprise directed at an innocent population. Nor—and this is crucial—is this merely an attitude about a conflict. They believe it is the crime of the twentieth century, conferring ultimate guilt on the Jewish people. “Palestine” is a phrase felt to carry the gravity of “Holocaust,” grotesquely inverting the perception of the Jewish experience.
For Holland’s Jewry, this reality has been palpable for decades. Yet nothing—no politician, no policy—has altered this reality. In the aftermath of every single violent attack—as will most likely be the case now—the political answer has been a room-temperature broth of subsidies, youth centers, dialogue forums, visits to Islamic pensioners clubs, and interfaith dialogue.
So it did not surprise me when international media outlets, like The Associated Press and The New York Times, covered this widespread attack as if it was the unfortunate, but perhaps expected, result of the Israeli fans’ conduct before and during the match, such as reportedly taunting Ajax fans with inappropriate slogans. Further, the AP wrote, the attack followed a Palestinian flag being “torn down from a building in Amsterdam on Wednesday,” and the rioters were angry because “authorities banned a pro-Palestinian demonstration near the stadium.” The Times originally pinned the attack on differences over sport and on taunts, as “violence tied to a match between Dutch and Israeli teams,” and reported that “the tensions in the hours leading up to the violence” was in part caused by “one man [being heard] saying in Hebrew, ‘The people of Israel live,’ while others shout[ed] anti-Palestinian chants using expletives.” (The Times has apparently stealth-edited its reporting numerous times since publication.)
In other words, if all you read were the initial reports, you might think that the Israelis started it, or at least had it coming.
What the reporters and media fail to understand is that this was an attack on Israeli football fans, but not one carried out by football hooligans. The Ajax team is itself Jewish friendly—fans of Amsterdam’s Ajax are affectionately (and sometimes not-so affectionately) referred to as “super Jews,” and Ajax is understood as the “Jewish team,” so it would make little sense that Ajax supporters would attack Jews or Israelis for their ethnicity—even if they are fans of an opposing team.
No, this was straightforward: According to the accounts of witnesses and victims, it was an attack by immigrant, Muslim communities against Israelis and Jews.
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instead of you [part forty-one] || l.mh
pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.
warnings: swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ ; mdni)
word count: 3.2k
a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!
additional smut warnings: semi-public messing around, oral - m+f receiving
The other resorts along the shore were nice, yes, but they were also crowded to all hell. There’s no way you would have been able to relax at any of them. Not just because crowds make you anxious, but because Minho probably wouldn’t be able to show his face anywhere. He’d have to wear a hoodie to the pool or swim with a baseball cap on, and even those weren’t guaranteed to be foolproof.
There were hardly any people occupying the outdoor spaces so late in the day so it was like you had the place to yourselves. You and Felix continued to play in the pool while Minho grilled steaks and Jisung worked upstairs. You offered to accompany Jisung while he cooked but he assured you that he was fine to do it himself. Sometimes you kept him company at home but you knew he liked to work alone as well.
The room that you and Jisung were staying in was a standard hotel room but Nikki and Dom had a suite with a kitchenette that he could use to prepare the side dishes.
You ate gathered around one of the fire pits as the sun sank beneath the waves in the distance. When it got too dark out, Dom lit the fire so that you could all see what you were eating. There were path lights littered around the resort but they weren’t bright enough to illuminate the adjacent sitting areas too.
“I wish we had marshmallows,” you sighed. “We could roast them and make s’mores.”
“I think the bar sells little kits,” Jisung piped up. “I remember seeing a sign posted on their menu.”
“How convenient!” Nikki exclaimed.
“Want me to grab some?” Minho offered, already standing from his seat.
You had once again put yourself on the spot. Everyone was looking at you, waiting for your answer.
“I-I’d feel bad. I’m the only one who wants them, so you don’t have to!”
“Don’t be silly, we’d all eat them,” Jisung assured you with a pat on your knee.
“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to try s’mores,” Felix agreed.
Your mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait, you’ve never had one?”
“They’re an American thing, babe.”
“Does that mean you’re the only other one here who has had a s’more?” you asked Jisung.
“I might have had one before,” Minho added thoughtfully.
“Might? You don’t remember?”
“Yeah, well, when we were on the first world tour we had a lot of bonfires and shit but I was pretty drunk at all of them so there could have been s’mores there, there could not have been. I dunno.”
“Anyway,” Nikki swooped in, averting the attention away from her eldest son’s anecdotes of underage drinking. “Minho, why don’t you go grab a few kits from the bar Ji mentioned? I think your father and I would like to try a s’more too.”
“How many do you think we need?” Minho asked.
“It depends on how many each serves. Why don’t we start with two and if we run out of supplies we can send Felix up to get more.”
Felix made a face. “What, me?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to send Minho up twice,” Dom explained.
“What about Jisung?”
“He cooked dinner.”
“I’ll be right back,” Minho interjected, cutting Felix off before he could protest any further. “Does anyone want anything to drink while I’m over there?”
He took everyone’s order and then disappeared in the direction of the bar.
“Do you think he’ll need help carrying stuff?” you whispered to Jisung after he left.
“Oh, shit, maybe.”
“Should I go help him? Would that be weird?”
Jisung looked back toward his parents to check that they weren’t paying attention before answering. “No, I don’t think so. No one suspected anything other than me. Do you want me to go with you, though?”
“No, you cooked,” you reminded him, “you should stay and relax. I’ll go help him.”
He nodded. “Okay. Oh, but kiss me before you go.”
-
Minho was still waiting when you joined him at the bar. It was almost as deserted as the rest of the pool area. Only a couple of people were occupying the stools and they seemed to be strangers to each other, drinking in silence apart from the waves crashing on the shore nearby and the occasional sound of the blender.
“Hey, stranger,” you said, grabbing Minho’s attention with an elbow to his side.
“Hey... did someone forget to ask for something?”
“No, I came to help you. We realized it’s a lot of stuff to carry all by yourself.”
He scoffed. “You doubted me?”
The bartender placed the drinks and s’mores kit down on the counter in front of Minho right at that moment, leaving both of you to size up all there was to bring back to the fire pit.
“You could have carried all that without spilling anything?”
“Fine, maybe it’s good that you came,” he grumbled.
“Maybe?”
He set his jaw and took a deep breath. “It is good that you came. Thank you for helping. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.”
You grabbed two of the drinks while Minho took the rest, holding the plastic bags of s’mores supplies between his teeth.
Nikki and Dom cheered when you reappeared with everything. The twins looked marginally happier. It was honestly as much as you could ask for from them.
You spent the rest of the evening teaching the Hans how to make, what was in your opinion, the perfect s’more. There were only a few skewers to go around so everyone had to take turns, but it was nice to be able to take your time with something and relax. There hadn’t been much time to do that on this trip. Jisung had warned you of that in the beginning but you were still way more exhausted than you expected to be at this point. At least it was almost over.
The thought of the trip ending was one that you had been pushing to the back of your mind for weeks now. Especially now that Jisung knew what had happened, you didn’t want to think about what would happen when you went back home. Would you grow apart? Would he distance himself once he was no longer in forced proximity with you? Would Minho break up with you? It wasn’t just something you could ignore now. There were only a matter of days left.
When it was over, you would go back to Seoul with the Hans until the summer ended officially. But that would be different too.
“You’re burning your marshmallow, love,” Nikki said softly, putting her hand on your shoulder to get your attention.
“Oh!” you exclaimed and pulled your skewer out of the heat. You blew the flame out and transferred it onto a graham cracker.
“Do you want a new one?” Dom asked.
“No, that’s okay! I like them burnt, actually. I just didn’t mean to leave it in the fire for so long. It could have made a mess.”
Jisung’s dad shrugged as if to say ‘suit yourself’ before taking the rod from you and reloading it with fresh marshmallows.
If it was woodburning, the fire would slowly start to dwindle as the kindling turned to ash. Since it wasn’t, it was still burning as brightly as it had been at the start of the evening when Dom finally turned the propane off. Nikki collected the empty cups and dirty skewers to return to the bar.
“Good night, kids. Don’t stay up too late.”
-
Felix was the first out of the four of you to go up to his room, leaving you with your best friend and... Minho.
The pool area was completely empty by then.
“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you two,” Jisung said and stood to leave.
You grabbed his hand to stop him. “Wait, no, you don’t have to go.”
“Yeah,” Minho agreed, a little less convincingly. “You should stay.”
Jisung shook his head. “No thanks, I’d rather not third-wheel.”
“Ji-”
“Take as much time as you need,” he said to you. “Just don’t get fucking caught by anyone else.”
You waited for him to leave before slumping forward and sighing into your hands.
“I thought you said he forgave you,” Minho whispered.
“He did. That doesn’t mean he’s okay with it,” you sighed.
Minho leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the loveseat, inviting you to sit with him. You crossed over to his side and joined him, allowing yourself to lean into his side. He wrapped his arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. It felt nice, to do something so domestic with him, even while sitting in complete silence. Still, you worried about someone seeing you.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“You.”
“What about me?”
“Just you.”
You didn’t want to give him the details and risk ruining the mood so you hoped he was content with that answer. Thankfully, he didn’t ask you to elaborate.
You shivered suddenly, unintentionally but thankfully changing the subject.
“Are you cold?” Minho asked.
“A little.”
“Should I turn the fire pit back on?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s so dark out now. It’ll only draw attention to us.”
“I don’t want you to be cold, though.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Minho didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t we get in the hot tub? You still have your bathing suit on, right?”
“Are we allowed to?”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
You followed Minho over to one of the many hot tubs on the property. It was tucked away behind the now-deserted tiki bar and also totally empty. Minho turned on the jets and ventured down into the water, holding his hand out for you to get in behind him.
You let out a sigh as you sank into the bubbling water, closing your eyes and resting your head against the pool’s edge.
“Better?”
“So much better.”
You looked over to see him smile. “Good.”
You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you were warm. The chill had seeped through your bathing suit too. You could feel it ebbing out of the fabric as well as your muscles the longer you sat in the water.
Minho settled next to you and put his hand on your thigh. It was comforting even though his hand was still cold.
“This is nice,” he said.
“It is nice,” you agreed. “I like being able to do just nothing with you.”
“We don’t get a lot of time to do that, do we?”
“No, not really.”
“Guess that just means we have to enjoy it while we have it.”
You sat up to look at him, wondering if he meant something more than what was implied when he said that. He met your gaze and gave you a questioning look.
“What?” You shook your head and sank further into the bubbles. You were reading way too much into everything. You needed to get a grip.
“What’s wrong?” Minho repeated. “Talk to me.”
“I’m scared to,” you finally admitted.
It wasn’t much, but you were finally being honest with Minho instead of skirting around his questions like you usually did. You could tell your answer hurt him but you were afraid that you’d hurt yourself even more if you told him everything. You had a feeling the conversation was going there anyway, though, and there was little you could do to stop it.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I don’t know... what we are?” You cringed as you said it. “And I don’t want to ruin things by asking, you know, because I like what we have going on and I don’t want it to go away but I also don’t want to get my hopes up by thinking we’re something that we’re not but sometimes you do things that make me think you want something more than... whatever it is we’re already doing but- mph!”
You were cut off with a kiss, like something out of a movie. It was brief, but enough to disrupt your train of thought. You stared at him incredulously, trying to read his expression.
His face was even but his eyes were warm. You wished you knew what he was thinking. Moonlight and the flickering flames of torches in the distance were just enough to illuminate his features. The quirk of his cupid’s bow, the flutter of his long eyelashes...
“What was that for?” you inquired, even though you knew what it was for.
“You were spiraling.”
You sighed, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t help it.”
“I know,” Minho said softly. “For what it’s worth though, I feel the same way.”
You lifted your head to look at him again, your vision slightly blurred by the water dripping down your face from your wet hands. “What?”
He hesitated. “I feel... what you said. I feel the same way.”
“I don’t even know what I said,” you laughed.
“Me either, but I got the general vibe of it and I’m in agreement.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I... I thought I was making it kind of obvious that I wanted something serious with you.”
“You never said anything outright, though!”
“Because I didn’t know what you wanted,” he explained. “You never said anything either.”
“Well, you’re the man!”
Minho raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re going there? The feminism just evaporates from your body the moment you’re faced with confrontation?”
“See, you get it.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you now, okay? I want you. In all the ways you’re willing to let me have you.”
You swallowed hard, eyes burning. You didn’t want to start crying and you didn’t want Minho to see you crying so you kissed him again, with more urgency this time. You couldn’t think, hell, you couldn’t breathe, until he pulled away, leaving you wishing and hoping for more.
When your lips met for the third time, he pulled you under with him, just long enough to shock your senses. You gasped for air when you surfaced, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes.
“You’re not supposed to do that!” you scolded, sputtering as you shoved him.
He stumbled backward onto the bench, falling seated again and pulling you on top of him.
“You believe that bullshit?” he scoffed.
“It’s not bullshit! It’s not good for you to put your head under the water in a hot tub!”
“I know people say that but why?”
“I... I don’t know why,” you admitted, “but I know you’re not supposed to.”
“See, you don’t even know!” You gave him a look. “Will you accept an ‘I’m sorry’ kiss?”
“That depends, are you actually sorry?”
He didn’t bother answering. Instead, he kissed you anyway, cradling the back of your head as he slipped his tongue past your lips. He tasted like s’mores and whiskey and chlorine, a combination so strange you couldn’t wrap your head around it.
One of his arms dropped to your waist, wrapping around your body and pulling you closer until your chests were pressed together. You could feel him through his swim trunks, growing harder by the second. You were tempted to take him right there, but you were in public and having sex in a hot tub couldn’t be good either, right? That sounded like an infection waiting to happen.
“Upstairs?” Minho asked breathlessly, lips only centimeters from yours. Not for the first time you wondered if he could read your mind.
You nodded. “Yeah, upstairs.”
-
You dripped your way back to his room, shivering despite the thick towel wrapped around your shoulders.
“Wanna hop in the shower?” Minho asked between kisses as he fumbled with the straps of your bikini.
“Yeah, don’t want to get your bed all wet,” you replied.
“That would happen whether or not we had just been in the pool,” he joked.
“Hilarious.”
“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he hissed. “Let’s get these off of you, they’re so cold.”
“Is that the only reason you want them off?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
You knew Minho was expecting to have sex in the shower but you kind of wanted to fuck on the bed so you sucked his dick while he washed your hair and then took turns rinsing off before moving to his bed. You put your hair up in a towel to avoid the aforementioned wetness and wrapped yourself up in one of the hotel’s robes even though you knew it’d be coming right off.
To your surprise, Minho left your robe on. He just undid the tie around your waist and let it fall open before shouldering himself between your legs. It was kind of like putting a towel down. He was killing two birds with one stone that way: protecting the sheets and keeping you warm.
It didn’t take long for you to cum in his mouth. Minho knew your body like the back of his hand by now. It had taken him a fraction of the time it took your past lovers to learn what made you tick and he used all of that knowledge to his advantage.
He kept going after you came the first time, eager to pull another from you, but you pulled him up by the hair to get his attention before he could get too into it.
“Too much?” he asked.
“Want you to fuck me,” you urged.
Thankfully, he was receptive to this and moved up so that he could position himself on top of you. He notched himself at your entrance and kissed you as he pushed himself inside, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before pulling away and wiping his face on your shoulder.
“Ew!” you cried and tried to push him away.
Minho looked offended. “What do you mean, ‘ew’? It’s you.”
“That doesn’t mean I want me all over what I’m wearing!”
“Since when?” he joked. “Seems like it’s always all over what you’re wearing when you’re around me.”
“Can we please talk about something else?” you begged, suddenly embarrassed and grossed out at the same time.
Minho laughed and pecked you on the cheek. “What would you rather talk about? The weather?”
You tightened around him as punishment, making him swear and bury his face in your neck. “Fucking hell, you succubus.”
You smiled politely and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Don’t people usually say that if she can talk at all, you’re doing it wrong?”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “I was just taking it easy on you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, this was for your benefit,” he continued. “Didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
“How gracious of you.”
He clenched his jaw as he started fucking you faster, muttering sarcastically, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was boring you.”
Ironically, you couldn’t respond right away, too caught up in the feeling of how deep he was inside of you to get any words out.
“I forgive you,” you choked out finally.
Your hands fell to his biceps, desperate for something to hold on to. You dug your nails into his skin, making him hiss through his teeth.
“Harder,” he urged. You squeezed harder and he gasped. “Fuck yes, keep doing that.”
“Like this?”
“Just like that, baby. That’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
#instead of you stray kids#instead of you skz#iou stray kids#iou skz#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#lee know smut#lee know x reader#lee know x female reader#lee know x bi!reader#lee know series#stray kids series#stray kids x female reader
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belly the holland lop
pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader
summary: it was good tara wasn't home, you were able to bring him home and spend the rest of the day with him however much you wanted behind closed doors, maybe some kisses.
word count: 1.6k+
a/n: this contains big amount of angst. just warning yall. ( theres none just the fluffiest story you'll see today!)
You opened the keys to your apartment, carefully sneaking in as you peeked through the hallways.
Silent. Good. Tara’s not home.
You snuck him in, telling him to shush as you led him to your room. You didn’t want to get caught by Tara. You loved him too much.
You opened the door and closed it, making a sigh of relief as you relaxed, kissing his forehead.
“Okay, I don’t think Tara will find you, well she’s not home yet but as long as you stay!” You emphasize on the stay as you look at him. His eyes were just like hers, you melted, making random motions with your hands, “Then you will be safe.”
The small holland lop bunny looked at you, his nose wobbling as you kept kissing him.
(Did I get you?)
“Great!” You say, bending down and picking Belly up. Or maybe you should call him Mabel. Green Beans? You’ll decide on that later.
You carefully use your hand and use your right to lift his stomach and the other to his bottom, then you bring him to your chest. It makes a small squeak of happiness as you bring him to your bed and it does a binky, doing zoomies on your bed as you giggle.
“No stop that, I don’t want my duvets to get all ruffled, I ironed them just yesterday!”
Belly, or Green Beans or Mabel looks at you, his cute brown eyes looking at you as it makes a small stomp of protest, grunting.
“Hey don’t grunt at me little boy!”
He stomps again as you sigh, “Okay fine a little more zoomies.”
Belly bounces off the pillows and circles around the room once, twice, four times, six times! before jumping on your bed and landing on your lap.
“Adorable,” you mumble, feeding him a small sliced apple and strawberry.
“Spoiled baby,” you chide playfully, “You’re just like Toffee, you don’t like carrots and want the sweet stuff.”
Belly crunches on the strawberry, his mouth turning red as you laugh, kissing his forehead again. After eating he claws softly at your chest and you feel his wet mouth press into your neck, then your white shirt.
“Hey! You’re lucky this isn’t outside clothes. Or else I would’ve taken your strawberries away tomorrow.”
You hear the door click as your brain immediately goes haywire.
“Oh shit. Belly, where the hell do I hide you?” You whisper scream, hearing Tara call your name as you look around, carrying him as his front is pressed up to your front, sniffing your clothes. Belly could run anywhere and Tara could see him as soon as he did another zoomie. You regret giving him those fruits, he’s going to get fruit energy!
“Baby!” Tara giggles, but it is dying down as she hears your footsteps, “Where are you? What are you doing?”
“Just a minute of love! I’m.. Redecorating, and trying on new stuff you know? Yeah.” You run around your room.
You panic, every way was closed, your guitar was covering your closet, if you moved it that would take too long.
“I’m coming,” she hums.
“Oh fuck it.” You say, grabbing a hoodie and putting it on, then placing Belly in your chest as you carried him under your hoodie.
Tara bursts into your door to see you sweating, the duvets ruffled, and the closet slightly opened, your guitar covering it.
Her eyes meet your figure as they narrow.
“Y/N.”
You gulp, nervously, there was a baby holland lop green bean mabel belly rabbit in your hoodie right now, “Yeah?..”
Tara’s mind fills with thoughts. The ruffled duvets that were always neatly folded, now sliding off the bed and your ruffled hair and glistening figure. She didn’t know what else it could be. She somehow didn't even focus on the way you looked pregnant with Belly on your belly. (see what I did there?)
She looked at you as she immediately saw a lipstick mark on your chest and red stains on your neck.
You look at her, she looked upset, almost angry, but she wanted to find out. She never gets mad at you.
“Tell me the truth,” she states, looking at your figure up and down as you look at her, what the hell was she going to say when she saw Belly? You felt him shift in your hoodie.
“Are you cheating on me?” She whispers, tears filling her eyes.
You looked at her with a, “what the hell?” look as you rushed up to her, still carrying Belly.
“Baby- of course I’m not!”
“You had a girl in here. Or a boy, I can see that lipstick stain on your damn oversized shirt that I gave you! Did you seriously fuck?”
Her eyes were wild as you looked down at your chest and immediately got where she got the assumption from. Before you could explain, Belly sniffles your chest and pops out of your hoodie head hole, making the room go quiet. Belly licks your neck and laps up the strawberry juice that he pressed with his lips a few minutes prior.
You squealed, his fluffy fur tickled you as you groaned in frustration, “I knew I should’ve cleaned that strawberry stain. You need to eat better! No licks after you eat juicy strawberries,” you scold at Belly, seeing how he was scratching his ear with his paw.
Tara immediately giggled, “Is that a bunny?” She laughs, sitting down next to you.
“Baby I thought you were cheating on me.”
You shook your head as soon as you heard her, “Baby I would never… Wait. Are you mad?”
“I was mad, I imagined you inviting someone over while I was gone, I would never think you would cheat on me but what I saw made me worried,” she says, her heart beating quickly from recovering from whatever she was worried about. “Oh my gosh you got a bunny! It’s so cute! I just want to squish it’s face and snuggle with it all night while we cuddle!”
You exhaled a sigh of relief as you immediately cuddled her, letting Belly nudge the bottom of his chin with your finger. You felt him licking it and nibbling it.
“Baby you scared me,” Tara laughed, picking up Belly and cradling him, he nudged his wet nose to her face, his still damp red mouth leaving a small strawberry stain on her face.
“Can we keep Belly? Please baby? Please please pleaseee?” You pout, Tara melted in your gaze. It wasn’t often you used your innocent, sparkly, drowning eyes. But when you did she would do anything.
“Belly?” Tara questioned, laughing, “You would choose that name.” She said, nuzzling your nose, “But you know I can’t say no. Just don’t let him pee or poop cocoa puffs on Sam. She’ll get angry and cook him for dinner,” she paused, seeing your horrified face. “I’m just joking sweetheart, she’ll probably stop giving him treats but then will give it to him less than 30 minutes later because look how cute he is!” She says, rubbing its soft fur. “He’s just as cute as Toffee. You really like holland loppies huh?”
“I LOVE holland loppies!” You say, kissing her neck and hearing her make a soft pleasured noise.
“I know you do, where did you find him?”
“I went to my friend's house today and she recently had a bunny, Mochi, give birth to holland lops! They were all so cute. But I liked Belly. He wouldn’t stop licking my hand and relaxing next to me. He was so cute! I love his brown fur!!”
She kisses you to shut you up in the nicest way possible, “If you think we can take care of him together, we can okay baby?”
“Okay,” you murmur against her chest. “We need a letter box, then a water bowl, some pellets, I think I have most of those at my parents house because of Toffee.” You say, you and Tara looking at Belly do binkies around the room.
-
An hour later you and Tara crouch down to Belly and pick him up, as Tara lifts her knees up and down and rocking Belly. You gave him a wide space to roam and every day you would let him roam around your house. Obviously you put some cages around cables and put away pillows. There were some water bowls, a bowl with bunny pellets, and some hay toys.
As Tara carried Belly, you wrapped a small hat you found at the store around his head and secured it around his neck, letting it be loose so it wouldn’t fall off but he could breathe well.
Belly’s nose twitched, a cute strawberry mushroom hat on him as his downward ears were being rubbed by you.
You and Tara giggled, taking pictures and selfies with Belly. After a while you’re cuddled up with Tara, nose buried into her chest.
“Maybe one day we can start a family,” you whisper, looking hopeful
“In the future baby, I promise. We’ll have as many puppies and children as you want,” she comforts.
“I love you.”
…
“I love you too.”
You snuggle as Belly does binkies and zoomies before resting beside you, with his little fluffy bed next to yours.
-
bonus: A few hours later, the door clicks.
“Tara, Y/N, sweethearts I’m home,” Sam’s voice echoes through the hallway, her hand full with two baby bunnies.
She enters your shared room to see you and Tara asleep on each other. And.. Another bunny?
“You have to be kidding me.” Sam says, looking shocked from how you now have 3 bunnies, a holland lop, netherland dwarf, and a lionhead now.
Her shock immediately melts, now you three have a household of 6. They are cute. Maybe she can handle 3. Sam walks closer to drape a blanket over you two and pets Belly before stepping away.
She opens the door and as soon as she does, she steps in a cocoa puff of poops, making her groan in disgust as she bounces with the other leg to grab a towel.
"Ew. No treats for you," she says, angrily, "Yuck."
-
A few minutes later she sneaks a small slice of banana next to Belly as he eats it, licking her finger.
#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x reader#vada cavell x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega imagine#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega x y/n#vada cavell x y/n#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x female reader#jenna ortega
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In 1888 Holland, the graves of a Catholic woman and her Protestant husband share a sad story. Colonel Jacobus Warnerus Constantinus van Gorkum, a member of the Dutch Cavalry, was laid to rest on the Protestant side of the Roermond Kapel cemetery in Limburg, Netherlands. In contrast, his wife, Lady Josephina Carlina Petronela Hubertina van Aefferden, found her final resting place on the Catholic side.
Despite this religious division, this devoted couple, who were married in 1842, managed to come together even in death. Their graves are marked by two clasped hands, symbolizing their enduring connection that transcended the religious divide.
Blog: https://artifactsmuseumhistory.blogspot.com/?m=1
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