#conviction?

[shefightsforall]

[skipppppy]

This has to be an AU already right? I’ve never seen it. I’m doing it. My city now

The angst potential alone haunts me. How long do you think he waited for Ford?? When did it start to sink in that nobody was coming to save him, that nobody would miss him? Would anybody even want him back? How long did it take for his anger, his heartbreak, his grief to turn into acceptance and a belief that this was divine retribution? How long did he work, how many jobs did he take, how much wealth did he accrue, how many brushes with death did he have until he believed he’d “earned” the right to go home and see his brother?? Many such questions. I need to go deeper

[s-lycopersicum]

Thinking by Pas (paxiti), on July 16, 2018

Rethinking by Pas (paxiti), on July 29, 2020

[republicansaredomesticterrorists]

[pealingpetals]

a gentleman never surrenders 🫡

[lovemebutleavemewild]

Convict!Ghost and innocent!reader who signs up for a program to visit and write letters to convicts without friends or families on the outside. You believe in the program, believe you're acting as a way to anchor a man, who would otherwise be lost, to society.

Ghost pretends you're getting through to him, nods and smiles when you tell him you know he can do better, be better. Meanwhile, he's thinking of all the filthy, depraved things he wants to do to you when he's released, thinking of his friend Soap in the laundry whose specialty is smuggling contraband in and wondering if he can convince you to slip him a nice lil picture of yourself or maybe even a pair of your panties. Soap probably wouldn't even want his usual cut, so long as he can get a look too.

[my-midlife-crisis]

[bunny-jpeg]

honey, i'm home!!, convict!simon r.- you were a bleeding heart, a softie. maybe that was why you took a photo of the flyer taped against the glass wall of a bus stop. it was advertising a service for people on the outside to communicate with convicts in prison. those who didn't have family on the outside. it broke your heart as you thought about it on your commute to work.

these poor people, all alone with anyone to keep them tethered to outside. it must be so isolating, so cold. you knew the risks and when you put in your information on the website, you didn't pay too much mind to the possibilities. you were surprised when you got an email back saying that they had found you a inmate to be a pen pal with.

simon riley - five year sentence for assaulting a police officer. he had no living family and was allowed to join the program due to good behavior during his time in prison. the mugshot of him made your eyes go wide. blond, a smattering of moles and freckles, alluring brown eyes (even in the horrid mugshot light), a crooked nose from multiple breakages and scars on his face.

if your jaw dropped at the sight of his photo imagine the surprise on his face when they gave him all your information. no photo though. but enough about you to pull the convict in. oh, you were beautiful. at least on paper you were.

ideal wife-y material. that made simon chub up in his jumpsuit. he didn't care what you looked like, by the first letter he was already calling you his wife to the likes of johnny. calling you missus riley by the time he had been exchanging letters with you for a month. he learned so much about you, and you became more endearing. you told him your favourite movies, that some flowers made you allergies act up, your love of animals. you even told him about the stuffed animal you 'rescued' from a puddle, washed it up and named it tulip who now sits on your desk at home. it was sweet, you were sweet.

simon near killed a man in a botched robbery and you were talking to him like it was a first date. mind you, over letters but simon loved them. you were advised not to send anything in the mail, your address was obscured with the service's address so simon couldn't find you once he got out. but, with the right words and promises, he had your full name, the location of your job and the address of your home. you were even sweet enough let him put it as his main address once he left prison. already the sweetest thing since honey.

but simon was a greedy man, asked for a few photos of you. while you were shy, he said to you, "wanna know what my girl looks like. wanna know how she looks so when i come home, i'm able to recognize her in any crowd." and you sent a few photos, and to simon's surprise. a suggestive one.

he could see a peek of your breasts and he realized he wanted to get his paws all over them. he wanted to leave pretty bruises on that tender flesh. mark what was his, that was what he learned in prison. in order to keep something he had to keep a tight grip on it. not even johnny saw the photos, you were for his eyes only.

you were nice enough to print them on good quality photo paper, and after that there was an increase in simon's good behavior. he had to get out as soon as possible to sink his achy cock in his missus. and when the day finally came and you came to pick him up. he already felt tight in his jeans.

and not that you were so innocent either, you had your hand on his thigh while you drove home. months of dirty talk over letters, the time simon basically wrote poetry about how he wanted to taste between your legs was still a favourite to read while you were all alone in your apartment. your hand between your legs, imagining a man like simon pleasing you in a way that made orgasm come quick.

your self pleasure was nothing compared to the feeling of simon against your skin. you barely got his scarce belongings into your flat before he was pressed up against your behind. his large, rough hand on your hip, which made your stomach leap. your core got warmer.

he then said to you, "aw, doll. that's not a way to greet your husband. been away for too long, need to feel her." and then dropped his duffel bag in favour of having you pressed up against the door of your flat with your shorts soon around your ankles.

"simon! ah!" you said as he held you by the shoulders against the door while he got his belt off and his cock out. five years without a hole to call home, but he got out of the pit with a little (future) wife to happily make up for loss time.

when he sank into you, it was a religious experience, "oh honey, i'm home." before he got both hands on your hips and his hips hit up against your ass. there was little time to get familiar, it was a deep seated want. simon rutted against you like a feral dog and the pleasure made you mind race and your knees wobble.

you two couldn't even get to the bedroom, not that simon cared. he'd happily have you over the hood of his car. you knew he didn't have any satisfactions from the outside. you were being good and being his connection to the outside world. it was only fair that he thanked you with all the orgasms he could wring out of you. he'd make sure that the third round was in your soft bed. but his thrusts were heavy and desperate and the uneven pace made your brain become flooded with pleasure.

you tried to find some kind of leverage against the door, but you were simply stuck against him. you were fucked against the wood door with your hips in your convict lover's hands. he may have smudged a little bit of the details of his crimes, but it was alright. you were such a forgiving soul that you let him into your life, into your home, into your womb. he couldn't remember if you still took the pill, but it was too late for that. not while your slick cunt drooled all over his balls.

why complain about a slice of heaven when it was dropped into his lap. he eventually wrapped both arms around your middle and fucked into you feverishly. he felt the excitement in his body as he moved against you. you felt amazing, there was a certain beauty to you as you took his cock was cemented that you were his. you'll have a ring on your finger and a fat belly by christmas. the thought made him twitch.

been too long since he had a homecooked meal, and while having your cunt grasp his cock. he knew that he'd be spoiled with his wife's cooking. if it was as warm as you pussy, maybe it'll reform him more than prison ever did.

after so many years without a touch of a woman, it felt nice. it felt great to work his cock into you. have you squished up against the door as he worked himself into you. breaking in his home, breaking in his wife. what more could he want. even gave that stomach of yours a sweet little pat.

be a good girl and give him a chunky riley baby by new year.

when you climaxed, you basically were limp in his arms and he pressed you further against the door for leverage. he purred to you, "that's it, that's is, doll. you're doing so good, fuck. been wantin' this for ages. good girl, good cunt. all for me. not gettin' into trouble while i was in, right? keepin' yourself for me."

you nodded, cheek pressed against the door as he continued to fuck you. your head felt dizzy. you didn't bother dating after you started your correspondence with simon. no point, he kept your happy. simon knew that loyalty was rewarded, so he did so by shoving every inch of his length inside of you an finishing straight into the back of your womb.

he groaned and gave you a few more thrusts before he pulled out. he patted you on the behind and kissed the back of your neck, "happy to be home, doll. our home. now why don't you show me around." and chuckled when you could barely string together a sentence. he pulled you up against his chest and near leaned over you to kiss you on the cheek, "look alive, sunshine. gotta show your husband his new home. except i think it might be too small. especially when the twins come." and it went in one ear and out the other, you dumbly nodded and simon did the right thing and fucked you over the coffee table until you came a second and third time. it's alright, he'll get a tour of his home by fucking you over every available surface. <3

a/n: happy near year, my dear bunnies <3

[lydiaalin]

melisande valk, sanctioned psyker/ inquisitorial acolyte 🤙

[lost-carcosa]

[clumsypuppy]

who is your favorite AA character? 👁️👁️

ziska… I hope capcom brings her back someday

[bioethicists]

i'm just thinking abt how many providers i've had who heard my story abt psychiatric abuse + immediately individualized it. "oh, you're so smart + kind+ obviously sane! you didn't deserve that! i can't believe they gave you that diagnosis when you're obviously not like that! they shouldn't have treated u like that when all you did was xyz! they shouldn't have assumed you were crazy like that!"

there is always a third person haunting this interaction- the patient who does deserve that, who is "actually" that evilscary diagnosis, who did Have To be treated like that. if i want to soak up the affirmations of these providers, i must be careful to never become this third person. i must affirm myself by setting myself apart from her- i did not deserve to be treated like that because i am not like that.

i reject this. not only was i like that, she + everyone else like that deserve everything i deserve. they are my siblings + my friends + my lovers. i do not need to cut them out of me to believe i deserved better. i refuse to comfort myself through the lens of someone else's dehumanization. the tragedy is not that psychiatric violence was applied to someone who not insane enough to warrant it. the tragedy is the violence.

[socialjusticeinamerica]

[rillils]

but you know what really gets to me? how deeply and instinctively steve associates bucky with solace. with love. with mutual devotion.

he sees bucky again for the first time since 1945, standing on the business end of a gun, and through the pain and shock of this earth-shattering revelation, what does he say? what is the only thought he keeps coming back to? "even when i had nothing, i had bucky." which is such a powerful and, and intimate line, it knocks the breath out of you.

he has a moment to himself to gather his thoughts, and where does his mind travel to? to the lowest point of his life. the day he had to bury the only parent he had ever known, and found himself entirely alone in the world. yet the focus of that memory isn't so much on steve's grief, as you would expect; it's rather on bucky's comforting presence, his support, his unconditional affection. it's bucky offering to be steve's home, both literally and figuratively, and reminding steve that this, this thing between them, it's forever, no matter what.

there's just, this unspoken but very palpable tenderness between them, that steve keeps calling back to throughout the movie.

even when bucky's actively shooting at him, stabbing him, punching him with all the superhuman strength in his arm, steve doesn't see a heartless killing machine that must be stopped. even beaten to a pulp and on his way to bleeding to death, when steve looks up at bucky, he only ever sees the boy who loved him. the boy he has loved his whole life.

and now, now bucky's the one who has nothing. bucky's been stripped of everything: his name, his humanity, his sense of self, his freedom, his past. his entire life. for the past 70 years, he has been nothing but a weapon passed from hand to hand, used and brutalized without remorse.

and steve walks into that helicarrier determined to show him that what bucky told him that day, all those years ago? it goes both ways. that even now that bucky's got nothing, he still has steve, even if bucky doesn't remember that yet.

steve takes his helmet off, and lets go of his shield, and lays himself bare to bucky's rage - makes himself vulnerable in every way he possibly can - to show bucky that no matter what, there is one person in this world who loves him, and always will. that he's not alone, not anymore. steve will never let that happen again, even if it costs him his own life.

like god, if that isn't tenderness, i don't know what is.

[lesmotsquinousmanqueny]

Shoutouts to Slovakians, they were 100k this Friday rallying against their pro-russian PM.

Shoutouts to Serbian students, they have been leading the largest student movement in decades, protesting to denounce and to end systematic corruption.

Shoutouts to Georgian citizens, they have been protesting for more than 70 days now against their government's pro-russian turn, facing criminal policemen.

And finally shoutouts to German citizens rallying nationwide in protest of Merz's political hand to the AfD.