#but now I have to mourn my future too

[scorndotexe]

"i just want you to be who i know you can be" well what if i'm never like i once was. what if i can't get out bed one day. what if i'll never be as "smart" as i was when i was younger. what if my maximum possible effort turns into what my minimum possible effort was a few years ago. what if i just get worse and worse and worse. what if i can't get a job because of this. what if none of the solutions work. would you still care for me. would you still love me. would you understand that i'm disabled. would you understand that this is in fact a chronic illness that can't be cured easily or at all. would you understand that it all depends on luck. and i haven't been lucky. would you understand that i'll never be who i once was. who you thought i could be.

[dramarants]

going through the 20th century girl tag to move on and appreciate all the great moments only to find out ppl would rather yijin died than not end up with heedo

[trashbatistrash]

,

[yeslordmyking]

I'm so lonely and bored, but the company I want and the hobbies I want to engage in aren't holy, and I don't want to have to repent for doing what I like. I hope the changes my heart need to make come soon and with as little pain as possible.

Put on the new self. Even if you have no idea how not to be the old self anymore..

[tvxcue]

no one gets peggy and steve like i do and no one should be able to talk abt them outside of tfa and tws, especially not marvel writers, fuck marvel writers you don’t understand them.

[boredymcbored]

SO She

Can't do it. Notice how it wasn't "didn't like at all", or "a misunderstanding" or, my favorite, *silence*. It was "can't return those affections." Which makes me feel better in a way.

Not even cope. I felt so gaslit those other times when someone felt affection but didn't feel as into it as me. Cause I know I wasn't tripping. And in this case, I know I wasn't again. There were clear signs of ~something~ being there. But ultimately, she couldn't. Which is understandable. And I can speculate why. I'm leaning towards her not being as available as I thought. But I honestly can't hang myself up on it. My entire 20s I've had to prove how loveable I was to my object of affection. Honestly, to pretty much every single person I've ever even crushed on. And the question is... why? I'm smart, I'm fun, I'm funny, I'm cute allegedly (lol a bit tongue in cheek), I have a cool life I'm carving out, I'm a good listener, I'm great at emotionally supporting someone and I'm just an interesting person. I'm worth while. I'm a catch. Why should I pine for another person that can't, for whatever reason, like me?? Even with the truly loves, and the drunken call at night and the tiktok afterwards and insistence on hanging out initially and the mutual attraction? It doesn't really matter if they can't give themselves to you. Cause you can prove and prove again and they still will say no or fall out of interest since it's not what they wanted. And you deserve to be wanted baby girl.

Which is why I don't think I'm as hurt as I thought I'd be. Cause I felt her pulling away lately. Cause I've chased and I'm tired of doing that. Cause I anticipated the 'no' more and more.

Don't get me wrong, it still stings. It actually hurts more right now than a couple minutes after I got the no. I really liked her and wanted the more I saw. Wlw minds run so fast, I put a lot of stock when I probably shouldn't have; over the move talks and *dreams*. But I still get to hang out. And be goofy. And free the vulvy. Yeah, I know the visit up north to cuddle post snow day vision won't come true. But you still get to be around in a non strained relationship. Not the first time I liked a friend and the it could only be just friends.

And oh my fucking god, I don't feel gaslit with the way she answered, I cannot stress that enough.

Sometimes you lose out and that was me today. And in the love sector, it's been me a while lmaoo. But I'll find a way and a person, whenever. At least I don't have to stress as much anymore. Crushes are exhausting. This is a big win for my rejection sensitivity though. I've been taking risks speaking on things that I want like more pay or this. And I got a couple wins. And some compromises. So an L was coming. But it wasn't nearly as bad as it could be or has been. My head reality hurt much worse than actual reality.

[winterzsurprise]

A New Beginning || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: You tell Miguel that you're ready to have a child with him.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick Miguel, creampie, vaginal fingering, brief blowjob scene, soft sex that turned rough later on, Miguel kinda whimpered lol.

Period is gone and came the asexual lil shit who can't write smut anymore lmaooo. I have two other plots just waiting to be finished (something about being paralyzed by his venom and needy sex after a death scare) but aaaaaaaaaaa. This is so shit, I apologize lmao.

mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi cielo- my sky (correct me on this please)

“I think I’m ready.”

Miguel didn’t respond for the longest time, focused on frying the vegetables. Clearing your throat you tried again.

“Miguel? I think I’m ready.”

“For what exactly? What trouble are you brewing up again?”

Sensing his dedication towards completing his task, you grew doubtful of your decision of dropping the news to him. 

Miguel, always tuned in to your moods even without seeing you, immediately turned off the stove and turned to face you with crossed arms at your prolonged silence.

“Alright, what is it?”

Now seeing the permanent frown in his face, you wondered if he’s even as ready as you are. Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider society and a chronic over-worker, you could see him putting his job first as the protector of spider people since he sometimes does it with you.

But you’ve seen how his eyes lingered a little too long on Mayday and Peter B whenever they visited. You’ve seen him replay clips of a future that doesn’t belong to him and watched him mourn over a child that never existed in this universe.

Having a kid with both of your features…

It doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.

“I’m just… thinking about kids you know?”

The twitch in his eyebrow betrayed his uninterested expression. “Oh? What about them?”

“I think I’m ready for one.”

Tensed silence immediately filled the room, locking your throat close as you waited for a change in his stance with bated breath. You saw the surprise flash in his eyes but he made no move to indicate his interest in the subject. 

If it wasn’t for Mayday, you wouldn’t have thought about bringing a child into a world where she'd have parents from two separate dimensions, both superhuman and known as saviors of the world. Not to mention, while being an active crime fighter in your own universes which is not an ideal occupation for a pregnant woman.

Even then, you had your IUD removed a few days ago when you returned to your world for a visit and only today did you guys had the time to bond.

As you linger in the silence, regret starts to crawl up your throat. Maybe it's a stupid decision after all...

His sigh sliced through the thick atmosphere before his voice did. “Are you sure?”

Miguel, no matter how unsure his voice sounded, had a hungry look in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about it for so long and... I think I’m ready now.”

You swear you could hear the clock from the living room tick beside you as you wait in anticipation. 

tik!

tok!

tik!

tok!

tik!

Miguel reached behind to remove his apron, crumpling them like a paper ball and tossing them to the side before crossing the distance between the two of you with one large step, hands surging to cup your cheeks to pull you in for a deep kiss.

You melted in the soft plushies of his lips, hands rising to tangle themselves into his hair. 

His hands wandered down to your rear, tapping it rapidly and you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist before proceeding to walk blindly to the bedroom, relying solely on muscle memory.

Miguel’s lips melded with yours smoothly with years of experience, his taste familiar in your tongue. Your fingers combed through his hair, tugging him closer as the door opened behind you.

It didn't take long before you hit the softness of your bed. His body dwarfs yours in every way and the realization never fails to send jolts of pleasure down your spine.

There's greed and desperation in Miguel's hands as he tore through your shirt and bra, freeing your breasts that pebbled with goosebumps from the cold air. Despite the hunger and rush in his movements, his touch is the softest it has been in a long, long time since the needy sex from months ago after a death scare.

His fingers found your stiff nubs and pinched them, sending sparks crawling over your body, stirring your nerve endings awake. Miguel's lips parts from yours to pepper kisses down your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.

You quickly made work of his top, pushing it over his head before he latched onto your skin once more like a bloodsucker.

"You're so pretty, mi cielo." He groaned, kneading your mounds together. "I lose my mind just thinking about your tits growing full with milk for our kid." 

You couldn't suppress the shudder racking your body at the mention of having your own child, together. A low moan left your lips and Miguel's hand wandered lower to tug on the bands of your shorts and underwear.

"You don't mind this one, yeah?"

"Rip it off."

He didn't need to hear it twice, the sound of fabrics tearing off into two echoed in the room and plant both your legs on either side of him, leaving you bare for him to see. Sitting back on his heels, he admired his work as he caressed your inner thighs with small circles, a promise of what to come.

"As much as I want to eat you up, I want to see you falling apart my dick more."

You nod feverishly, sighing as deft fingers found your clit to roll in tight circles, occasionally scooping down to spread your wetness around your folds. Heat explodes from your abdomen, spreading across your body as pleasure slowly ricochets inside you.

His finger enters you, curling up to caress the spongy part of your walls and you moan. Miguel spared no time adding another digit inside you, picking up a fast pace and your body arched, hips twisting to follow his ministrations.

But before the pressure in your abdomen builds up, he pulls away to your distaste.

"Fuck…" You whined.

"Stop whining and get on top of me. I wanna see you bounce."

He slipped off of his pants and boxers, tossing it to the side before switching positions with you. You reached down to his hardened length, pumping him leisurely while he ran his calloused hands up and down the meat of your thighs.

You eyed the clear pre-cum erupting from his tip with every pump with fascination. Miguel's hands tensed on your thighs as a warning yet you bent down to lick off it off. A salty taste explodes in your mouth and Miguel grunts, nails digging into your flesh.

"Mi vida..."

"You're such a mood killer." You said, earning yourself a pinch in your thigh and you giggled.

You positioned his intimidatingly huge dick directly under you and with a deep breath, you let the tip sink into you. It's barely in and you're struggling with his girth stretching you wide open. Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel rubbed circles on your hips.

"You can do it, baby. You know you can take me in."

With the slight pushing from Miguel, you eased him in with a mewl. He feels deeper and fuller this way and you gasped at him, nudging more of him inside.

"Fuck..! You're so deep..! I c-can't—"

"You can and you will. I'll make sure you do."

"P-please... Ah!"

Surrendering your control to him momentarily, he gladly took up the mantle. Your mind grew fuzzy at how full he makes you feel and it pleased Miguel to no end to see you drunk on his cock. Reaching up to your neck, he pulls you down for a dizzying kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as he gained some speed, nudging the roof of your uterus, keeping your mouth hang ajar, spouting gibberish and noises of absolute ecstasy. His hands roamed your body with the greed of an explorer in a new land yet tender as if handling a feather whilst you tugged hard on his locks.

"You feel so tight around me. God, you feel heavenly." He grunts as he drives himself in your heat.

Your body grew feverish as your heart grew fuller from the softness of his touches and kisses. The knots in your abdomen twisted tighter, your impending climax arriving a little early.

"I-I'm close…"

"Give it to me, come all over my dick. I want it all."

Picking up speed, you cried onto his shoulders as he plummets into you hard. Your hips grew erratic as you followed the intensity of his thrusts, his hands grabbing the globes of your ass to guide your heat onto his. 

"Come for me, cariño."

Your whimpered whispers of his name filled the room as you tip closer to the edge.

The knots in your abdomen unfurl and you come, trembling on top of him with a shout. He grunts as the tightness brought by your end, hugged his girth firmly. His hot pants fanned your ears as your climax encouraged him closer, the sound of his pleasure sent sparks throughout your body and swells your chest with pride.

"Take all of me, baby. You want it yeah? Want me to fill you up real bad? Want me to breed and knock you up?"

"Yes yes yes…! I want it please please please!"

Miguel protectively wrapped his arms around you as he came, exploding and painting your insides white with a deep groan. His arms only tightened around you, forbidding you from leaving.

Flipping you both, he sits up to stare at where you both connected with lust clouded eyes. Pulling out, you groaned at the feeling of his seed pulse out of you and Miguel clicked his tongue.

"You're wasting them."

Scooping them up, he plunged them into you and your thighs twitched from the intrusion. You let your eye close as your soul slowly settles back into your body, exhaustion weighing your eyelids shut.

The sound of wet squelch of his fluids mixed with yours burned your cheeks and you forced yourself to focus on the feeling of his fingers plunging his seed back in, pleasurable albeit a little painful.

Miguel halts, only to bring your legs up to your shoulders, stirring you awake from your momentary rest to meet the wicked gleam in his dilated eyes as he pinned your thighs down and loomed over you.

"Don't even think of sleeping tonight or tomorrow. We haven't even started."

[liliennacht]

.

[tender-rosiey]

mourn and want — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: angst version of gojo coming back so don’t say I didn’t warn y’a; also him saying my wife makes me giggle like HEHEEHE

satoru’s vision is blurry. he can’t see anyone except kenjaku and sukuna, though his thoughts immediately drift to you.

he can feel your cursed energy somewhere, but it’s so faint. it worries him so he quickly teleports to shoko and his students. his eyes strain as they frantically search for you, “where is y/n?”

most of them stay silent and he immediately jumps to the worst conclusion, but shoko doesn’t let him dwell on it for too long.

she lets out a sigh and it’s followed by a mutter, “follow me.”

she starts walking towards an abandoned building, probably a hospital, and satoru wordlessly walks after her. their footsteps echo throughout the deserted hallways, along with the sounds of water droplets hitting the ground every few seconds.

they finally arrive at a room and its door is noticeably cleaner than the rest. satoru speaks up, for the first time since they started walking, “is she here?”

shoko nods, and her face is solemn, “yeah, but…” she looks away from the moment, “she won’t make it. she will probably die in an hour or something.”

“can’t you do something? anything?”

“satoru, I tried, but whoever attacked her did irreversible damage,” she takes a deep breath, “the healing won’t even work so—I suggest you talk to her and get your moments. she has been asking for you ever she came out of that attack.”

with nothing else to add, shoko left, but not without patting satoru’s shoulder lightly.

he hums quietly then his hand reaches for the doorknob. he takes a deep breath and braces himself for what he will see. satoru is no stranger to death. in fact, he met it personally.

for some reason, though, he feels like yours will be the hardest to face and endure.

the door clicks and he pushes it lightly. his eyes fall on your resting figure, if resting could be used as a word with how in pain you look.

you’re breathing heavily and your hand is clutching your side. he closes the door behind him, a small grin on his face, “hey, pretty? missed me?”

your eyes peak open and you glance towards the door. a small smile appears on your face at the sight of your husband, “satoru…”

he chuckles and gets settled right beside you, “the one and only…how’re you feeling?”

a wheeze escapes your lips as you try to sit up, but satoru quickly—and gently—pulls you into his embrace.

now, you’re both on the ground with you cradled in his arms. you look up, “I feel like shit.”

“figured,” he smiles while caressing your cheek, “you look the part.”

after your small laugh, the both of you fall into silence. your hand is holding onto satoru’s. you take a moment to breathe then you mumble, “I don’t have much time left.”

his arms around you tighten just a bit, “don’t say that.”

“but it’s true.”

he bites on his lips to hold back his tears, “no, no, it’s not—you can’t do this to me,” a shaky breath escapes his lips, “we still have a future together, a daughter to raise.”

you weakly reach put for his face and make him look at you. even with his teary eyes, he manages to compose himself quickly. you sigh in content, “at least, she will have you, her strong papa.”

“why can’t she have her mom as well? why are you giving up so easily?”

“I tried a lot, but it wasn’t and will never be enough—everyone tried!”

the tears you’ve tried to suppress are falling freely, “but it hurts so much, ‘toru! I can’t go on living with this pain!”

satoru is stunned to his core before he swiftly recovers and pulls you closer, doing his best to comfort you, “shh, I am sorry,” he kisses your temple, “I didn’t mean it,” your cheeks, “I am sorry.”

your arms weakly wrap around his shoulder as you sob into his chest, “I don’t want to die! I want to be with you! I wa—want to wake up to you by my side!”you’re cut off by your sob, “I want to raise our daughter together! I want to hear her sweet giggles every day—satoru, I don’t want to go yet!”

“I know,” he buries his face in your hair, “I don’t want you to go either.”

his hand is rubbing your back while you cry and wail. he presses feather-like kisses to your head, before he speaks, “I—…I want to hear you scold me more. I want to see your messy hair every morning. I want to see you team up on me with our daughter. I want to feel your love and give you mine every—every single day.”

you pull away slightly and you lock eyes. he isn’t crying, but he can’t deny the lump in his throat nor the pit in his stomach. you peck his lips gently and rest your forehead on his, “promise me that you will take care of her.”

his thumbs wipe at your tears before he nods, “yeah,” then whispers, “I promise.”

his face is still so close to your own as your body relaxes slightly in his hold. with a small sigh, you murmur against his lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too—I love you so much,” he croaked.

“you better,” you smile before closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

your body goes limp, and satoru immediately hugs you closer, tighter. your face is buried in his chest while he repeatedly and frantically kisses the top of your head, tears of his own dripping to the ground.

his body envelopes your own like he’s fearful of the fact that something will take you away, yet again.

he doesn’t hear the door open at first.

his blood-shot eyes eventually travel to the person who entered, shoko. her voice is shaky as she speaks her name before she sighs, “I need to take her—“

“no.”

his eyes focus on your face once again, “I didn’t get to mourn all who passed—and I will be damned if I don’t mourn for my own wife.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[shanastoryteller]

happy valentine’s day! could i get something pjo or hades?

a continuation of 1

Sally doesn't understand. "But where's my son?"

His face crumples before smoothing back out.

"Not that you're not my son!" she says hurriedly. Gods, he's going to grow up to look so much like his father. He's going to grow up powerful, which is something Poseidon had warned her about and she thought she'd taken it seriously, but now her almost adult son is in front of her and there's a presence to him that she'd clocked as his father's just as much as his hair and the breadth of his shoulders. "But. My son. When you go back to the future, he'll come back, right?"

"Mom," he starts, then presses his lips together. "I don't know."

She slowly lowers herself onto Percy's bed. Onto her Percy's bed. "Where is he now?"

"If he's still here, he's probably in the underworld," he says.

If. If. Her eyes burn. She'd just been wishing that Percy wasn't seven anymore, but she hadn't meant this.

"I have to go," he says, clearly trying to speak gently to her. "I'll try and find out, okay? I'll send you an Iris message."

"But," she starts, looking up at him. What's she supposed to do? Her son's gone. Her son's right in front of her, but he's leaving too.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead like he's the parent. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm really sorry."

~

Percy thinks he might have killed himself.

He tries not to think about it as he dive into the Atlantic, the water surging over and around him as it propel him exactly where he wants to go.

This is a mission that he's not going to survive. He'd known that from the beginning. Persephone had warned him that his life would be forfeit before he'd done it.

He should have listened. He should have taken a single second to think it through before he'd accepted, even if he would have done it anyway, even if it felt like the only option left.

When he'd sat across from Persephone, her clothes black with mourning and a crown she didn't want on her head, he'd already been dead. So it couldn't be his life that was the cost. It had already been paid.

Now his mom is going to have to mourn him twice over. Maybe even three times over, when he dies here too. He's such a terrible kid. She deserves better. Estelle wouldn't do this to her.

Why the hell had she had a kid with a god? They all die young.

He sneaks through the patrol of Atlantis with ease. He knows the schedules and the patterns and nothing is really meant to keep him out anyway.

The armory, the most guarded part of the kingdom, opens at his first touch.

He's a loyal son of Poseidon. Nothing here is forbidden to him.

Granted, that's because they don't know to ward against him specifically, because he's supposed to be ignorant and seven and demigod children don't typically just go strolling into their parents domain.

Riptide is currently with Charon and ironically he'd have a much harder time stealing from him than his father. He walks the length of the armory, eyeing the tridents but moving on. If he wants to keep his parentage a secret, then that's definitely not the way to go.

He goes through about a dozen swords before finding one that feels loose and easy in his hands. It's a bit flashier than Riptide, emeralds along the hilt and interlocking silver patter worked in alongside the bronze.

Paper doesn't do so well underwater, so he scrapes in an IOU into the place the sword had been. Someone's going to notice it missing pretty quickly either way. His dad if he's lucky, Triton if he isn't, but he doesn't have the time to worry about it.

There are three kids out there who are going to need some help getting to Camp Half-Blood in one piece.

[midnight-in-town]

Ao no Exorcist is a Shonen series written by a woman and it shows

Since the latest chapter, I've been thinking about how several usual Shonen tropes are written rather differently under Kato-sensei's pen. No judgement or anything, it's just cool to observe. Some examples :

1) Rin's mentor is a woman

2) Rin's secret, despite being the MC, was revealed in ch13 to the entire cast, meanwhile Shiemi, The Main Girl, who was introduced to be so helpless is only starting to be explained.

3) Also, the Mysterious plot-relevant Shonen Parent is actually the twins' mother. (Of course Shiro is super plot-relevant too, but Satan is still angsting over Yuri and she's a huge part of the reason why he's the big bad)

4) Rin also changed his view about his future throughout the story: from dropping out of school, passing by hoping to become the Order's Paladin (probably to cope with Shiro's death and also to antagonize Arthur), to finally showing way more interest and potential in the (less epic and heroic in appearance) field of talismanic cooking.

5) When it comes to arcs, mental illness is a valid reason to build a character arc around...

6) And so is making an arc about girls being "cursed" to basically "get married and have children before they hit 30, the age where their beauty fade thus they become useless" :

7) ANE is a story about women becoming traitors to protect their loved ones, like Mamushi

or becoming overwhelmed because men toyed with their feelings like Tamamo

8) Older women can be absolute badasses like Shiemi's grandma

or Lucy.

9) Complicated mother-daughter relationship and girl friendships are given as much focus as complicated father-son relationships and sweet bro friendships (like Bon and his dad during the Kyoto arc, as well as the complicated but deep bond between the Kyoto Trio)

10) And one of my favorites: full time single dad, asking for help to do the job as well as he can and finding his true purpose in life by doing so :D

Hmm and now that I think about it, the only other Shonen series written by a woman I've been as invested in is Kuroshitsuji, by Yana Toboso, and similar examples can be found in it too, namely:

1) If Ciel ever finally admits needing a mentor, his aunt Frances will probably play that role

2) Girls can be super strong & skilled (Elizabeth, Mey Rin) and clever (Sieglinde)

3) (one part of) the Big Bad is a woman (Queen Victoria)

4) maybe Ciel's entire revenge stems from a conflict between Queen Victoria and Ciel's maternal grandmother, Claudia.

5) the Undertaker has been a continuously freaking pain in the ass because he probably fell in love with that same maternal grandmother and couldn't mourn properly

TL;DR we love our boys and their spectacular growth and development under women's pens a.k.a shonen series written by ladies are hella fun to read. :D

[barblaz-arts]

I haven’t sent any of the other messages, and this is the first time I’m even seeing your opinions on this matter as I’ve followed you for your Wenclair art.

I’m an Israeli citizen. On October 7th thousands of Hamas terrorists went into Israeli villages (on Israel’s territory) and raped, shot, beheaded, burned alive and murdered 1400 CIVILIANS. They kidnapped 230 more citizens into the Gaza Strip, including babies and the elderly (no idea if they are alive, as Hamas didn’t let the Red Cross or anyone else see them and REFUSED any deal to release them, despite all the lies they are spreading). Hamas uploaded videos of them doing these deeds, they were proud of them. We are still not done counting our dead, 3 weeks later, because of the state they were left in. We identify people by DNA pulled from pieces of skull tissue, by CT scans of burned masses of flesh showing parents hugging their children as they were burned alive.

A little bit of history. In 2005 Israel completely pulled out of Gaza, and handed it over to the Palestinians. In 2007 Hamas was elected to lead the Gaza Strip. This is an organization that in its charter says loud and clear they want to murder Jews. It’s not hidden, there is no question about it. They are proud of it. And since 2007 they have not allowed for an election in Gaza, they have stolen international aid money to build terror infrastructure and embedded themselves deep within their civilian population (just a few days ago evidence was provided that Hamas built their HQ under a hospital, specifically because they knew Israel wouldn’t bomb it).

The truth is, the pictures from Gaza are heartbreaking. The civilians are suffering and it’s making me sick. But how is Israel supposed to respond to the massacre of October 7th? Just pretend it didn’t happen? No country would. Israel isn’t targeting the civilian population though, unlike Hamas. I’m not saying innocent civilians aren’t killed, they very sadly are because war is horrible. But it’s always an accident, they are never the targets. Hamas is the target.

Israel has its part in creating Hamas just like the USA had its part in creating ISIS and Taliban. Still doesn’t excuse terrorism. Israel didn’t deserve the October 7th massacre anymore than the USA deserved 9/11. I hope that you can appreciate that.

The truth is, there are innocent civilians on both sides here that are suffering. Things aren’t black and white, and they never were with this conflict. And if you want to have a discussion I’ll happily talk to you privately, answer questions as best as I can. But only if we come from a place of mutual respect. If you want to block me, that’s fine too.

I do want to let you know while I can that your art is beautiful and made me smile on multiple occasions. I hope you continue it. And I wish you luck with everything and hope that we all have peaceful days in the future.

First of all. Gaza was not given to Palestine. Israel put them there and had Gaza serve as an open air prison.

You can't go around saying "Israel has its part in creating Hamas but it still doesn't excuse terrorism" then go around saying that this genocide is justified because "What else are we supposed to do after what happened in Oct 7?" What a double standard. You do not get to say that what happened to them makes you feel bad but say that you were left with no other choice. You dont get to say that Hamas being born from 70+ of brutality is still not an excuse to kill but also say Israel doing the same thing is justified.

Now, of course this does not mean that I side with Hamas. Never have, never will. I side with Palestinians, something so many Zionists cannot seem to comprehend, because they see killing them as one and the same.

Listing off those atrocities, though heartbreaking, as I will always mourn the innocent, still does not change my stance or how I feel. I feel like a broken recorder, constantly having to repeat that the civilians in Gaza did not do those and in turn did not deserve any of this. The hostages don't either of course, and the families of the ones still held captive are furious with their government for choosing to bomb them along with Hamas like some sort of sacrifice, like what you are implying the civilian deaths to be. Just unfortunate casualties for the greater good.

You can go ahead and say that only Hamas were meant to be targeted all you want, but they did not need to cut off their water so they're not even able to clean and defecate. They did not need to cut off power and render hospitals useless. And NO they did not need to bomb those same hospitals, even IF it were true that it was a Hamas base. And they did not need to use phosphorus bombs to do it. This has, and always will be about Israel's hatred of arabs and Muslims, as it was 70 years ago before Hamas even existed, as it still is now.

Tell me, if the past two or so weeks was really about Hamas, then why are these people mocking the civilians that are mourning their families' death as they starve?

None of this should have happened. Hell, you shouldn't even be living where you are in the first place. No one has any right to colonize. Whatever white supremacists or religious reason anyone says.

Of course this does not mean that I believe all jews or Israeli are as evil as the pieces of shit in that tiktok compilation or the powerful pile of dung that rule your country. There are Isreali and Jews protesting for Palestine as well, and I deeply admire them for their bravery and to feel compassion for the other side and act on it.

It's baffling how you're aware that Israel is responsible for Hamas creation but still, maybe not want it, but think all you can do is reluctantly accept the unavoidable. Because this was definitely avoidable. But your government actively wants this, and frankly I dont think it cares about you. It does not care about the soldiers they send out and the people that died and the hostages that were taken. They are using you as an excuse for more death and money.

"Those thinking of revenge should be ashamed," said by one of the survivors of Oct 7. And she is right. You are demanding the wrong things of your government.

And no, I will not be talking to anyone about this in my direct messages. Talking about it privately makes it feel like some debate to be won, when this shouldn't be a debate at all. The reason why I answer these kinds of asks is to make people aware of what is happening. I'm just some girl, I cannot fight for Palestine in any way that can directly save a life and I dont have the financial capability to donate, but I can do this. We can make those sick excuses of humans on top know that we know of their stink and we will not give it any excuse.

[yanderestarangel]

⸺:･ﾟ✧ CRYBABY | BI HAN X AFAB READER

TW: unreliable narrator, mourning, blood, death, smut, mentioned death, hallucination, angst.

Everyone in the Lin Kuei wondered if Grand Master Bi Han ever had any type of feeling, besides hatred, anger and a sadistic and morbid pleasure in power. And the answer was yes, but no one would ever know, no one could see the hard, well-built shell he had made of himself for so long.

But, one person knew and that person was you... Or better said, it was you.

The fog of the cold winter corroded anyone's bones, but Bi Han felt nothing, being with you there, beneath him, making hot and passionate love with bodies drawn in a divine brush and venerated by mortals. Bi Han shed some tears, as always, he was a crybaby but only you knew that. The emotions so guarded and engrained for so many years, all the rapturous encounters of lust stood out.

"-Why are you crying, Bi Han?" -You asked in a soft voice, bringing one of your hands to meet the smooth skin of the man's face above you, staring at the brown immensity of his iris, while more tears fell from his eyes, eyelashes stained by salty drops as he whispered "sorry" softly moving his hips again, moans were heard, echoing through the dark and freezing night of a dark winter.

"-I'm alone, without anyone... Without anything, you're my last hope, you know me like no one else (Y/N)... I want this to last forever I-" -Bi Han spoke with a voice weak and vulnerable, it was one of the few moments that he allowed himself to be himself, when he was with you, he didn't have a cold and cruel heart, he was just angry with the future and present, the present was painful with the death of his mother , with the guilt of having let his father die for the greater good with the fear of the future, losing you... You.

Bi Han continued moving, skin on skin, the wet sound resonating through the walls, a touch of love and possession and fear, the feeling that gnawed at the man's already shaken heart and soul, he groaned as he felt your warm touch on his cold skin. Of him, he couldn't tell you how much he loved you, how afraid he was of losing you, he wanted to be the perfect man for you but he knew he was just an assembled reflection of what he once was.

"-You're a crybaby, Bi Han..."

You smiled, that smile that always warmed him, drying the tears that still insisted on falling more and more, making him place a chaste kiss on your forehead, while placing his lips to yours, whispering more and more uncertain promises that were lost by the wind that now let the requiem play, purifying your soul, distilled by a man who once loved you.

He still kept his wedding clothes, locked in a box in his room. Bi Han always arrived in the room after training, picking up the fine fabrics with a little dust, but even that didn't stop him from bringing the clothes up to his nose, feeling your perfume already spreading in the air while he felt his heart beat and ache, the Longing rotted him inside. His brothers always saw Bi Han reciting his wedding promises and vows to himself as he walked around the house, a daily habit that no one dared question.

Everything was so fast that night, but Bi Han remembered it well... After all, he was the one who killed you, he knew it was an accident, but that would never cancel out the guilt of having your blood on his hands, not even in the worst hellish nightmares drawn By the worst devils, he would think about killing you, but he did.

He remembers... The poorly lit night, with only the blessing of the moon's rays guiding the way to one of the villages that was being attacked by some beings from the outer world, you insisted on going with him, after all, you were a Lin Kuei ninja too and he blames himself for letting you convince him so easily. He was distracted for just a few seconds, which led you to try to stop some invaders alone, but it didn't work, you were cornered and killed.

Killed because of him, a cruel and fateful accident.

He remembered the screams of agony and pain of the villagers, but everything had become silent from the moment Bi Han found his body, bleeding, with cold blood in the middle of the snow, he fell to his knees, breathing and feeling the world. He fell when he saw your lifeless eyes, the smell of blood entered his nose, while he picked you up, he wanted you to wake up again, tell him that everything was a bad joke and that he was a "crybaby" as you always called him, but now, your voice was mute, quiet, empty, there was no longer you in existence, just a pile of flesh, of what you once were, a lifeless piece, of what Bi Han once loved , a dead doctrine.

It was his fault, he shouldn't have given in, he shouldn't have let you go, he needed to be colder and stronger... But at what cost?

The shadows now haunted Bi Han, the quiet stillness, cut by the sound of running water that the man used to wash his own hands, he still smelled his blood, he felt dirty, he felt guilty, he wanted When that stopped, he couldn't even cry anymore, yours echoed in his mind, disturbed by endless mourning and punished by some mocking divine being. The grand master always returned to the same blizzard that your body was in, he looked at the ground, now clean and covered by a new layer of clean ice covering the sad reality that he saw on that red and unhappy night, he heard your voice, he saw your shadow, or something that his mind designed to be you.

"-It's okay... I can be real for you Bi Han."

"-Real to me...? You... Not real... Angels call (Y/N), return your night, go, don't stay in my chaste shelter, my chest is already sore... Go in the infernal storm that threw you here..." -Bi Han whispered, making the shadow disappear, a malicious joke from the man's own mind, death, grief, guilt and cold consumed him, the great master, was ultimately,a crybaby, but the little humanity he had left with you.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[verahella]

✧˖°. THE SUMMER OF 2007

“are we in heaven?”

you would have agreed with shoko. with the white sun glaring into your retina and the chirping of crickets, it definitely seemed like it.

but then you remember that your friend group consisted of a cigarette addicted alcoholic, a handsome guy who wanted to committed genocide a year ago and the worst of all, gojo satoru.

so, no. you doubt you had access to heaven.

you shift on the field in a futile attempt to get away from the sun, “if i die, tell them that i haven’t decided what poetic thing to put on my grave yet.”

shoko hums in acknowledgment, closing her eyes. orange spots still dance around her vision and she sighs as she hears the footsteps rushing closer.

“no need to worry, your saviour is here!” you jerk awake when ice touches your forehead.

gojo hovers over you, peering at you from over his glasses. “oh, my poor baby.” he pulls you in for a hug, patting your head with an aggressiveness you didn’t need, “i should be the only one who makes you flush red like that.”

“remember it’s out of embarrassment, not infatuation.” suguru drawls, drawing snickers from you both. he tosses a can to shoko before taking a seat next to her, the grass tickling his palms when he leans back on his hands.

the sun’s glares have reduced you all to nothing but a melting pool of sweat and it’s all too hot to be hugging right now but when has mere weather ever stopped gojo satoru from indulging in his desires? still, he reluctantly pulls away when your clawing at his arms starts to hurt a little.

“i got you this.” you practically see his tail wagging as he grins, eager for appreciation. you reach to take the can of soda he offers but gojo clicks his tongue, pulling it away. he taps his cheek, “i need payment first.”

you roll your eyes and his grin widens when you lean forward. he shifts at the last minute, leaving the red shine of your lipgloss to imprint on his lips.

the way your face heats up is always endearing. “you’re the worst.” you snatch the soda can from him and he lets you, leaning back with a smug little smirk on his face.

“can you believe we’ve only got three more months left?” shoko pipes up to distract herself before she vomits at you both. she’s right though.

the year seems to be so long yet went by so fast. you won’t realise it now but maybe a few years later, when you’re older and have settled down, you’ll reminisce about those good old days in high school. maybe, despite going your separate ways, you and shoko will meet up every weekend and gossip about those days and suguru will squint behind his glasses as he tries to recollects this exact moment and capture that joy onto a painting and—

your gaze flits to gojo. it’s a dangerous thought but maybe, just maybe, gojo will be there, criticising suguru about how he couldn’t capture satoru’s handsomeness on the canvas. and you both will get an apartment and you’ll feel the warmth of his hand (and the metal of his ring) around yours every morning.

but that’s too optimistic of a future for jujutsu sorcerers and you know it.

it’s weird, mourning a life you’ve never lived.

your eyes stray to satoru again unconsciously and you find him looking at suguru. you squeeze his hand, like you do every night as he spills all his worries about the past and mostly the future.

gojo meets your eyes and he pushes his glasses up higher, moving closer to you.

shoko clears her throat, if only to stop herself from spiralling as well, “we’ve only got three more months left and i still don’t understand how gojo graduated kindergarten.”

geto smiles faintly at gojo’s indignant huff. there he goes, slipping into character again, so seamlessly. “suguru, tell her that some of us have both beauty and brains.”

geto shakes his head yet the smile doesn’t disappear just yet, “well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. but maybe if you dig through that ego, you can find some semblance of a brain.”

satoru’s face morphs into betrayal, “how could you? after everything we’ve been through?”

geto simply shrugs and you laugh. gojo sighs, standing up slowly and nudging his glasses back up. he stares at suguru with his arms crossed menacingly for about three seconds and you think he might actually tackle him (because that’s definitely not the first time he’s done it) before he shoots off in the direction of the beach, a blur in the distance.

the three of you share looks of confusion before satoru’s faint cry is heard.

“first one there can cut suguru’s bangs!”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemicrofic April challenge.

All Alone

April Prompt: Fool | Word Count: 454 | Rating: T | CW: Fear of Mortality, Prior Parental Loss, Prior (Unnamed) Health Problem, Anxiety | Tags: Eddie POV, Established Relationship, Long-Term Relationship, Steve Harrington and His High EQ, Beloved Wayne Munson, Everybody Lives, Happy Ending

The overhead light in the bedroom flickers on, and Eddie buries his head deeper into the pile of pillows on the bed. 

He's not getting up. 

"Eddie," Steve says, gently. Quietly. 

"I'm fine," Eddie mutters from under the linens, but he's sure he's not very convincing. 

"The hospital called," Steve says, and Eddie's whole body tenses with blinding, overwhelming fear. "Wayne can go home tomorrow. After lunch." 

And it's good news. Something to celebrate. But something catches in his throat and he chokes out a sound, somewhere between a whine and a cry. 

He's a grown man, unable to get out of bed, and he feels like a fool. 

"He's fine," Steve says softly, sitting down on the bed, rubbing Eddie's back. 

Sure, Wayne's fine. For now. But someday he won't be. Someday Eddie will be all alone, and the weight of that knowledge suffocates him. The fear of it. The inevitability. 

His mom is dead. His dad is dead. He has no siblings. Grandparents, all dead. He has Wayne. That's it. That's all that's left of his family. Wayne, the only connection left to his childhood. 

Wayne, keeper of the memories, answerer of the questions. 

"Hey, remember when…"

And Wayne will remember. 

"And what was…?"

And Wayne will know. 

But Wayne will go someday, and he'll take those secrets with him. 

Then, Eddie will have no family left. 

"Eddie," Steve says, "talk to me." 

And he can't. 

He can't tell Steve, the love of his goddamn life, his family, this. Steve is his family. He is. They've chosen each other. Over and over, year after year. 

Steve's his future.

But he's not his past. Not his beginnings, even as fucking rough as they might have been, more often than not. 

"Honey, he's okay. I promise," Steve says gently. 

It's foolish, this preemptive mourning. This wallowing. 

"Wayne's gonna die someday, and I'll be all alone," Eddie chokes out, and he hopes Steve doesn't take it the wrong way. 

He doesn't. 

"I know how scary that is," Steve says, and Eddie relaxes. Steve probably does know. He's an only child, too. With only his mom left, now. It's scary.

Maybe they can be scared together.

A week later, Wayne's on the couch, recovering, and Eddie is buzzing around the room.

Steve's sitting right next to Wayne, notebook in hand. Taking extensive notes. An oral history. 

Steve won't ever have been there, but he'll have Wayne's own words to reference. 

"...and the little fool thought he could drive my car. Couldn't even reach the pedals. Rolled it right into the shed," Wayne says, and Steve laughs.

Eddie had forgotten that. 

And Eddie smiles, standing in the kitchen, listening to his past share secrets with his future.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️

[stickyspeckledlight]

Despite Everything, You Still Exist [Yan!Aventurine x Reader]

The short moments when the world remembers you. Hypothetical HSR voice lines based on Sunrise, Sunset, My Destroyed Body In the Onset. Can be read as standalone, though.

Notes: Lol I had some thoughts and doing this right now will mitigate my uncontrollable hype for when 2.1 is out later tonight. (From the future: lol 2.1 is out now ahaha)

Ao3

The air rings with the sound of cranking slots, spinning roulette, fallen chips, and spilled cards. Some visit for reasons outside the sound; the bar's happy hour, a good meal at the buffet, and the venue where musicians of middling to great renown play. They merely chatter amongst themselves, occasionally sparing a look to the many games at play, perhaps spending a few credits if they want to test their luck. But the ones of note are always the ones playing the game. For some, the sound of a shuffling deck of cards is as familiar as the back of their hand, and they cannot stand to be away from it for more than a day lest they live with the emptiness of their soul. Some have already accomplished much, do not know what they want anymore, and are just here to pass the time. Some are fools, believing they can strike a fortune and climb to the heavens. They feel the most, celebrating triumph and wallowing in despair alike.

But those who stand out most are those who decide to test their luck knowing of destiny's inherent unjustness.

Chat: Limits

"Most people do all they can to live within their limits. Whether it be maintaining their mundane routine, keeping to themselves, or turning away from things that pose too much risk to them. When most reach their limit, they tend to completely shut down, and give up—they dread that risk. What most people don’t realize though is that in breaking limits, you go beyond them. My friend, if you ever see someone reach their limit...pushing them past it will yield something truly special or, if you’re lucky, a destructive yet breathtaking beauty."

Chat: Lovely Things

“What do I like? Trying to gauge my weaknesses now are we? …oh? You just want to get me something out of the sheer goodness of your heart? Aw, you’re too sweet; my friend, we’ve already established such a great bond, you and I, so there is no need to exchange gifts between us! And, gift giving always does bring about jealousy; you wouldn’t want to incite that, would you? Besides, I doubt you could gift me anything lovelier than I already have.

Chat: Change

“Change is a wonderful thing! It keeps things from getting stale and predictable and is the prime ingredient for anything unexpected. Change doesn’t necessarily mean massive shifts like how most people envision, and I wholeheartedly believe one’s own self can remain consistent even with change. Speaking of changes to one’s self…heh, no matter how happy they may be as and with their changed self, a part of them will always mourn the person they used to be…even if the person of old runs counter to their changed self. Hm? A distant look in my eye? Nonsense, my friend! Just think of this as some helpful advice, free of charge. I do hope you’ll be able to put it to practice—I think we’d both hate if I were disappointed, after all.”

Casinos are ultimately reprieve, but eventually, one must return to their obligations. One can’t gamble without money, and money must be made from working. Work comes in many different forms—some work aims to increase other’s gains, some to increase its own, others to retrieve the money which is owed. These individuals are not so hard to find at the casino—like moths to a flame they aim to win with the wealth accrued by another, only to find themselves stripped of it unwittingly. It is easy to rig the game when the opponent believes they are the master. Chat: Interesting People

“My work takes me all over the place, so I get a lot of opportunities to meet all sorts of people! Granted, it’s my work that also causes a lot of meetings to not be on especially amicable terms too. And some of the people I have to deal with are…well, there’s a reason I keep a pistol with me. The best meetings though are when you’re off the clock and free to just wander about! Souvenir shopping, trying out local cuisines and experiencing its culture can be pretty nice, and it’s when me and Numby are just out and about where we meet many. I’m sure you Astral Expressers can relate to that. But, as with all things, some particularly stand out even when you don’t expect. Like, a little while ago, I finally finished a project—a big one that had some of us Stonehearts coming together—and I met this rather pleasant individual. Nice, polite, and their sense of humor wasn’t half bad; even gave me some pastries they made! A short but sweet conversation. But…there was just something…off, about them. My instincts are pretty good when it comes to these sort of things; it’s like…they were keeping themselves at a weird distance. Even though I deal with that a ton during negotiations, this time it just felt odd in a particular way, yet quite uncomfortably familiar. But it was after we said our goodbyes and I saw them again. I don’t know what happened, but then I saw the expression on their face, and…I know what that odd feeling is now. Maybe I should reach out, that guy isn’t exactly…o-oh, sorry! I got a little carried away, didn’t I? And I did sort of lead you on with starting things so lightheartedly…here, why don’t I make it up to you? A few Aetherium Wars booster packs, maybe?”

How do people lose money like this, though? Many go into the casino with the belief it is fair and just, not understanding just how rigged the game is. “Shed any and all illusions of outwitting the system,” one is told, left with nothing when they could not draw an ace of spades.

They are here because for many reasons: circumstance, unfortunate luck and their own hubris. And in that last reason lies the penultimate behind their misfortune: ignorance.

Chat: Willful Ignorance

“Ignorance is a horrid malady, but like all forms of malaise there are multiple variations. The most common is unwillful—what most think of when thinking of ignorance. Cures differ from individual to individual of course, but they tend to be the most simple affair; simple pedagogy does wonders in establishing a baseline knowledge, and for matters of great specificity or those already with baseline knowledge, a few thorough lectures are the ultimate vaccine. Willful ignorance, however, is a much different matter. Its cause is not rooted in the absence of knowledge, but of cognitive dissonance—you find it especially amongst those who have aged, already set in their ways and unwilling to engage with anything to broaden their horizons. For this, treatment must be thorough and harsh; it cannot be absolved without stripping down a patient’s worldview, lens, and grip of reality. But this is not the most vexing form. The hardest ignorance to cure is the one taken on fully aware, knowing it is false and knowing of its folly but nevertheless live by it; you look confused, so I’ll put it in simpler terms: a patient who isn’t ignorant, far from it even, but still lives their life as if they were. Curing this places patients in a rather volatile state. This ignorance is often the patient’s way of coping with a situation, when they’ve exhausted all other forms of protection. …But, I am a scholar. Advancements are not made by talking, it is through action, and eventually, I will be the one to make it. …I simply hope I can make it in time.”

But nothing lasts forever. The patrons return home, drunk or penniless, and the sound drowns out. Staff emerge from their shadows and silently do their part in crafting the honey trap, but even they must leave, and the lights are shut.