T. Leeaves or just T. Lee | she/her | 18+ | writer | Art by Lorenzo Lanfranconi from ArtStation. | Old TSC blog @streettealee
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Hello, I am Tareq from Gaza Iam trying save my famliy from the genocide happening here. I ask for your help in spreading my story and donating if you can contribute anything, no matter how small.Please don,t forget to sharethe latest post from my page and follow my account to help spread the story to the world. Thank you.
htps://gofund.me/481656bc
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Save Mohammed ..
Dear Lesbians,
I am sending you this message because you are the kindest people in the world. Please Help Me – My Son May Die at Any Moment. I am in desperate need of your help. My son’s life is hanging by a thread, and he may not survive without urgent medical treatment This was after he was shot by an Israeli drone He was critically injured in his feet. Time is running out, and we are facing a critical situation. I am asking for your generosity to help us save him – either through a donation or by sharing this urgent plea with others
I beg you, i kiss your feet, to help my son. My son may die at any moment
Donate now:👇👇 gofundme.com
Thank you for your compassion and support during this critical time.
#free_palestine 21 🍉🇵🇸
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No blush can be entirely seen given Jin's mask, but I still catch the other telltale signs of widening eyes that turned heavy and that pretty little curve at his mouth that went from something shy to a soft smile. The temptation to drag him away from the ballroom right now so I can further indulge in this side of Jin is almost overwhelming. "No," I argue, just as soft, "you're much cuter."
It's muscle memory and good leading from Jin that keeps me seamlessly in time with the music when he looks at me like that, like I might as well be the only person in the room. Otherwise, I might have faltered. It takes me a moment to notice the heat in my own face. Hopefully, he didn't notice me blushing.
Oh, you beautiful liar. A waltz already situates partners rather close, but I cross into the space held between us to ghost my cheek next to Jin's. "You're full of shit, my love," I whisper, grinning wickedly.
Jin, you scheming bastard, was all I could think when I saw his entrance into the ballroom. He had sent me new dresses and masks along with the invite for this occasion. Now I know why he sent them in red instead of blue.
The Halo Effect. Jin once said it was a cognitive bias that occurs when one person's positive impression influences another's overall opinion, and those were the symptoms I was experiencing. He was wrong, of course, since he was running off a very unsatisfactory drunken confession of mine.
But I think I want to propose a new kind of halo effect. The kind where the air around the person you love seems to glow with their life and beauty.
And their stupidly heartwarming thoughtfulness.
A while ago, I gave Jin a half-bloomed red rose to wear. Flowers had become a tradition by that point, but when he wore one it was almost like a possessive little mark to say this one's mine. Even if he wasn't. "There. Red looks nice on you," I had said. And Jin's response? "Red? I think red is better suited for you, than I. Next time you attend a ball, I'll send you a selection of red gowns to choose from."
Jin Kamurai never missed a thing, apparently. And never forgot anything a person said in the past. Maybe that was why he had been so withdrawn before. The past is a heavy weight to carry in your mind.
All the gowns he sent were rather similar. In the end, I had chosen an off the shoulder piece, with a full bodice that belled out into ruffled skirts, all in the red of roses. But the detailing and silk flowers decorating the dress and the mask were gold and white. Apparently, I was supposed to be some sort of inverse to Jin's suit. From the white and gold mask dripped red beads on one side, almost like blood.
Luckily, I was not the only person dressed in such a statement piece. Everyone else gathered look grand in all their splendor. This ball really was the only thing people were talking about.
For the duration of Jin's performance, I made my rounds talking to other people I recognized--and some I didn't until they lifted their masks. My attention kept drifting back to the stage though. And when Jin had finished and I politely applauded with everyone else, I still waited some time before I approached.
"Could you please help me?" I ask, gently tapping Jin on the shoulder with my now healed arm, covered up to the elbow in white gloves. "I'm looking for a handsome gentleman by the name of Jin Kamurai. He's about your height with snow white hair and these beautiful glacial blue eyes--looks very good when paired with red." My smile is as cheeky as ever. "Have you seen him?"
Jin looks at you and smiles. A sight for sore eyes.
"Kamurai? Don't know him."
He takes your hand and spins you around. The gesture seems playful enough, though the intention is to admire the outfit on you in it's full scope. Jin takes your other hand as well when you're facing him again.
"You can come with me instead. He must be rather busy if he's ignoring you right now. I will make a sufficient substitute."
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The path ahead
(actually curves. The dark patch is an evergreen)
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I read an AITA post a few weeks back about a woman who liked having snacks in the bath when she's had a long day (a result of residual trauma iirc - the bath was her safe space). Her brand new husband of three weeks, a man twice her age who had no job, made her pay all of his bills and do all housework, and spent all day every day gaming because he wanted to make it as a Twitch streamer, had always been fine with this; but, on the day in question, had whisked her bath snacks out of her hands as she was on her way to the bathroom and tried to bin them, telling her it was time to 'break her of that filthy habit in his home'. She told him if he ever actually paid anything towards the house she owns outright he might get a say, took her snacks back, and had her lovely bath. He was since giving her the silent treatment.
(Obviously the judgement was an avalanche of 'NTA and also he's abusing you', which she agreed with, and decided to kick him out, so happy ending.)
Anyway I told my husband about this and he was outraged. "I would never do that!" he told me, furious. "I would find it adorable if you had bath snacks!"
Since then, every time I try to have a bath (which I only do as a rare treat) after about ten minutes there has been an anxious scrabbling at the bathroom door.
"Elanor!" he says. "Do you have bath snacks? Do you need anything?"
My answer is irrelevant. He brings me wine and poptarts. Now I have bath snacks. I'm a bath snacks person. Last time he was literally sleeping on the sofa when I went for the bath. Somehow this still happened. I now have an eager bathroom butler. How did this happen. I have never been so decadent yet bewildered.
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Is for me !!
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I love it when little kids look at what is clearly a demon and go 'I want that one'
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Oho. I support this message. Giving this day a bad me.
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