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#millions now living will never die
rastronomicals · 2 months
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3:45 PM EDT April 13, 2024:
Tortoise - "Along The Banks Of Rivers" From the album Millions Now Living Will Never Die (January 30, 1996)
Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm
File under: Post-rock
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knightofleo · 2 years
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Tortoise | Djed
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mikimeiko · 2 months
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Albums I listened to in 2024
Millions Now Living Will Never Die - Tortoise (1996)
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the-trans-dragon · 2 years
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#sorenhoots#soren rambles lol#I am really pretty tired of my current existence! not in a sad way—almost in an exciting way? like. I am at least learning I’m not happy#here!!! which is better than not knowing I guess#my job is really pointless and meaningless but at least I don’t feel tied to it. yknow except because money#I don’t fit here :( new hires make friends in a week that I haven’t made in 11 months#it feels like everything I do is wrong#and yknow maybe that’s just part of being an autistic person in a work environment#but like. dang if my jobs gonna be miserable and if my landlord is being so cruel??? I’d never let anyone else talk to me that way#and every day i have little bits of happiness from hanging out with my polycule and that’s honestly it#so like :/ why am I living in this city if there isn’t a scrap of joy?#I don’t know how to move :/ I don’t know how to leave family behind or rent a uhaul or take such a big chance with such a high risk of#failure: not finding a job; not having family to fall back on; not knowing anyone; not being able to see my mom; not being able to find a#good apartment…. it scares me so much#to think about all the things I could do to change my life because they’re all so HARD#but I… I… I don’t want the life I have right now if I could trade it for a better one#I just want to grow old and die knowing I did my best to be happy and make my loved ones happy and not make the world any worse#but every single day is a million decisions about how to do that#and I’m quite afraid of everything#I’m as aftaid of actions as I am nonactions#I’m afraid of moving but I’m afraid of staying stuck#the world is such a deadly place and I am scared if I leave my little safety zone I’ll never find another#but god is it suffocating in here#😥
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soon-palestine · 3 months
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Hostages tortured to death. Parents executed in front of their children. Doctors beaten. Babies murdered. Sexual assault weaponised. No, not Hamas crimes. This is part of an ever-growing list of documented atrocities committed by Israel in the five months since 7 October – quite separate from the carpet bombing of 2.3 million Palestinians in Gaza and a famine induced by Israel’s obstruction of aid. And yet while the western establishment media has been chock full of the most lurid allegations of savagery directed against Hamas, sometimes with little or no supporting evidence, Israeli atrocities are excused or quickly forgotten. Accusations against Hamas are endlessly reheated to paint a picture of a supremely dangerous and bestial militant group, in turn rationalising the slaughter and starvation of Gaza’s population to “eradicate” it as a terrorist organisation. But equally barbarous atrocities committed by Israel – not in the heat of battle, but in cold blood – are treated as unfortunate, isolated incidents that cannot be connected, that paint no picture, that reveal nothing of import about the military that carried them out. If Hamas’ crimes were so savage and sadistic they still need to be reported months after they took place, why does the establishment media never feel the need to express equal horror and indignation at equivalent or worse acts of cruelty and sadism being inflicted by Israel on Gaza – not five months ago, but right now? Israel's torture of doctors, its sexual assaults of Palestinian women, it's leaving premature babies to die after its forces stormed a hospital. Where is the outrage? This is part of a pattern of behaviour by the western media that leads to only one possible deduction: Israel’s five-month-long attack on Gaza is not being reported. Rather, it is being selectively narrated – and for the most obscene of purposes. Through consistent and glaring failures in their coverage, establishment media – including supposedly liberal outlets, from the BBC and CNN to the Guardian and New York Times – have smoothed the way for Israel to carry out mass slaughter in Gaza, what the World Court has assessed as plausibly a genocide. The role of the media has not been to keep us, their audiences, informed about one of the greatest crimes in living memory. It has been to buy time for US President Joe Biden to keep arming his most useful of client states in the oil-rich Middle East, and to do so without damaging his prospects for re-election in November’s US presidential vote. If Russian President Vladimir Putin was a madman and a barbarous war criminal for invading Ukraine, as every western media outlet agrees, what does that make Israeli officials, when every one of them supports far worse atrocities in Gaza, directed overwhelmingly at civilians? And more to the point, what does that make Biden and the US political class for materially backing Israel to the hilt: sending bombs, vetoing demands for a ceasefire at the United Nations, and freezing desperately needed aid? Worrying about the optics, the president expresses his discomfort, but he carries on helping Israel regardless. While western politicians and commentators worry about some imaginary existential threat those brief events of five months ago pose to the nuclear-armed state of Israel, Israel is quite literally wiping Gaza off the map day by day, quite undisturbed.
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ujuro · 3 months
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I like the f#a#infinity way more than lift yr skinny fists like antennas to heaven….
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esyra · 8 months
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Haven't heard from family in days. I feel like it's time to accept they're gone. I know in my heart Palestine will, one day, be free, but it wasn't supposed to be like this.
We feared another Nakba, and it happened. 700,000 pushed out of their homes in 1948 to 1 million being forced to leave their homes in 2023.
We thought it couldn't get worse or more deadly than the Israeli invasion in 2014, and it happened. We lost 2,251 people in 50 days then. Now we're past 2,300 in one week.
What I heard most from my grandmother the first days it's that "this time is different". And I feel like a rock is crushing my heart in pieces because i've been hoping that speaking out, teaching people about the historical oppresion of Palestine would help but it's not helping. Nothing is changing.
I feel like I'm screaming into a void. There's some sympathy from people online, until I see content documenting Palestinian oppresion being flagged as 'hate speech' or check the comments of any updates on Gaza and it's: "blame it on hamas", "tell them to give up hamas", "the hamas asked for it". They're not even among civilians!!!!!
My heart feels full seeing the manifestations in favor of Palestine, then I see police forces breaking protests apart and remember that the people that can actually save Gaza don't care.
If there's nothing left to do but to watch the extermination of my people, then I'm going to beg for anyone reading this to please don't forget. Please.
Israel is hiding behind Judaism to commit genocide against Gaza. Netanyahu supported the Hamas militant group to prevent the establishment of the Palestine State, and now he's using them to justify his agenda of ethnic cleansing. He abandoned Israelis and left them to die because he cares more about seeing Gazans dead!
Every single person and institution supporting and financing Israel is complicit. I hope the deaths of every Palestinian haunts you for the rest of your lives and that you never find an ounce of forgiveness, for you do not deserve it.
Just as in the Iraq War, the US government is financing and cheering for the slaughter of millions of innocent Arab lives. The media is complicit by engaging in biased propaganda and other nuclear powers, such as the UK and Germany, are complicit too. You are fascists and war criminals and every drop of Palestinian blood is in your hands. I hope every single day, for the rest of your lives, you look in the mirror and see nothing but the blood you've helped spill.
This serves as yet another proof that not a single Western in a position of power, be it in the media or in government, sees Arabs as humans beings.
For decades, the US has comitted terrorism and crimes against humanity in the Middle East and has NEVER been held accountable. Over one million in Iraq; over 150,000 in Afghanistan; and now they'll turn Gaza into a graveyard. Punishing selected soldiers over the years does not erase the fact that the American military and its government validates their crimes during execution and are never punished for it.
Please never forget: Joe Biden is a genocidal terrorist, Rishi Sunak is a genocidal terrorist, the American Democrat Party and UK's Labour Party are led by genocidal terrorists, the European Union is led by genocidal terrorists, fuckass Walt Disney Company is led by genocidal terrorists; every celebrity that called for Palestinian death or stood by silently while ignoring our suffering is a genocidal terrorist.
May Allah protect the people in Palestine and grant the martyrs the highest level of Jannah. Wallah what keeps me here is knowing that the Akhirah is theirs. May Almighty Allah grant us imaan and Taqwa as high as the people of Gaza. Ameen.
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chillyfeetsteak · 5 months
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I first became fascinated with it a few years ago when I noticed it out an airplane window on a flight from Texas to Southern California. In an expanse of endless desert, suddenly, a vast body of water. When I got home, I immediately looked it up on a map. The Salton Sea.
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It’s the largest landlocked body of water in California. It sits right on top of the San Andreas Fault at over 200 feet below sea level. It is more than twice as salty as the Pacific Ocean. It is completely toxic. And I had never heard of it before then.
(photo essay under the cut)
In the early 1900s the Colorado River was diverted through a series of irrigation canals in order to provide water for the farmlands of Imperial Valley. One of the head-gates broke during a flood, and the desert basin filled with water for 2 years before it was fixed. The unexpected lake soon became a popular vacation destination; it was stocked with fish, and resorts and hotels popped up along its shores. It became known as a great place for sport fishing, waterskiing, and yacht parties. Big name celebrities visited. At one point, it had more annual visitors than Yosemite.
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Salton Sea has no outlet, and is only filled via agricultural runoff. As the water evaporated in the hot desert sun, the lake became more and more saline. Chemicals began to build up from the run off causing toxic algae blooms, and mass die-offs of fish and birds started in the 80s. By the 90s, the beaches were littered with fish gills and bird bones and the resorts were abandoned. The lake began to dry up as irrigation run-off was diverted away. The exposed lake bed is also toxic, and the high desert winds kick up the dust, making the air poisonous. 
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Despite the unpleasant odor, the noxious air and the summer temperatures regularly reaching 120°, a renaissance of sorts began in the early 2010s. Artist and nomad colonies began to spring up around Salton Sea. Bombay Beach, once a popular resort destination, is now mostly a ghost town, but the folks who remain have turned the ruins on the shores into an outdoor art installation gallery where the found-art sculptures are cyclically destroyed by the elements and then replaced with new ones. Many of the houses and RVs in town are themselves art pieces.
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In nearby Slab City, a settlement of off-the-grid lifestylers, you can find even more folk art. Salvation Mountain is a manmade hill painted with bright colors and bible verses and maintained by a community of volunteers. East Jesus is a sculpture garden and art installation. 
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This past weekend my partner and I finally made the pilgrimage to the Sea. California has the benefit of being home to a huge array of biomes. In just a couple of hours you can travel from snowy mountain peaks to lush oases to endless sand dunes. Driving the hour or so south from Palm Springs towards Salton Sea is like driving towards the end of the world.
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Bombay Beach especially enamored me. The beach is crusted with salt and millions of tiny shells and bones. It smells awful, like sewage and chemicals and low-tide and rotting fish. You drive out onto the beach and park anywhere amongst the sculptures and deteriorating resort ruins. The art feels raw in a way I haven’t experienced before. It reminds me of seeing paleolithic cave art. Humans made this, with no motivation other than to create something intriguing or beautiful or sad. Not much can live out here, but what you find fills me with a great adoration for humanity. Despite the asphyxiation of the natural world, the human spirit persists.
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phantomrose96 · 1 year
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I've mentioned this thing in tags before but I've decided fuck it, it should be its own post.
I've seen this sentiment lumped into Eat the Rich posts which goes like "if you're worth more than $1 million I think you should die" and I think tumblr users need to know this is not the Eat the Rich statement they think it is.
Someone being worth $1 million doesn't mean what you think it means.
A 71-year-old widow who bought a single-family 2,000 sqft home in Somerville Massachusetts with her husband 40 years ago to raise their family in, who now lives in this home all alone because her children are grown and her husband is dead, is--without a shadow of a doubt--worth more than $1 million. Maybe even $1.5 or $2 million. And it's because of her home equity, because that's what single family homes go for these days in that area.
The 71-year-old widow may be living pension check to pension check, because her millionaire status can only be dipped into if she's removed from her home and sells it. And if it's the home she's loved for 40 years, where she simply wants to live out the rest of her time peacefully in, I wouldn't put her to the guillotine for that.
Maybe that comes off as an extreme example, like that's just an outlier of the "we hate millionaires" agenda. But I don't think it truly is. I'll scale back and tell you the median U.S. home price right now is about $430,000. And that's just median. Half of them are more expensive than that.
The statement "I think people should be able to afford to buy and own the homes they live in" is, I would desperately hope, not a radical statement to anyone on Tumblr. I think that's a pretty well-received idea. So someone who's done that, who's bought their home and worked many years to pay off the mortgage and now owns it fully, is worth close to half a million dollars on average. Many of them more than that, as many areas rapidly gentrify and drive up housing worth.
Statement 2: "I think people deserve to have a retirement fund which would comfortably support them through end of life." Too radical for anyone? I hope not. And I won't pretend to be an expert on how much retirement money is ideal. I'm sure it varies with cost of living in places. But considering this is money which, ideally, should support someone for the remaining 10-20 years of life (money which may be necessary to cover the absolutely crippling medical costs of end-of-life treatment) I'd bet it's well into the many hundreds of thousands. Even if someone was simply living off $30k/year of take home money and just making that work, then 15 years of retirement, costing $30k/year, plus maybe $50k+ of end-of-life medical costs... That's at least $500k.
Which is all to say, if you show me someone approaching retirement age who's "worth" $1 million dollars, my hope would be that their house is paid off and their retirement fund is comfortable. I'd be happy for them. I would want this for them.
Even that may not be true, though. Someone "worth" $1 million maybe owns a paid-off house which has rapidly appreciated to being worth $900k, and their $100k in retirement is something they're trying to stretch through end of life. Maybe someone worth $1 million owns a house which has ballooned to $1.1 million, and they're in fact $100k in debt.
And the fact that SO many Americans will never even meet this bar is significantly more appalling to me than the existence of people worth more than $1 million. "I own my home and can retire comfortably" is a bar we want every American to meet. I want more millionaires who are millionaires because they meet these criteria.
If Nana Somerville's house burns down tomorrow, she'll have lost everything. If a billionaire were to similarly lose $1 million of worth, he would not feel it. That's a fickle day at the stock market. That's Tuesday. That's the rich which desperately needs to be eaten.
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frmisnow · 2 days
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✧˖ ?! — TAKE CARE OF YOU! (SMUTTY)
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summary. picking you up from your yoga class, for your weekly little weekend get-together (which mostly just consists of sex at his apartment), kook notices just how sore and exhausted you've been from this week, so what's left to do then to take care of his baby?
notes. ladys and gentlemen and they/thems of the universe... welcome to the iltly verse!!!! inspired by my last fic I LOVE TO LOVE YOU, the demand to see more of this couple/dynamic was most deff. there so here it is!!! 𐙚˙⋆.˚ i hope u enjoy!!!
warnings/includes. bf bf non idol? jungkook x f! reader, established relationship (they just don't live together), fluff, very SUGGESTIVE (masturbation mentioned, undressing, kissing yappa yappa), oc is HORNY & rly tired, bath-thub time together,
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"you're real tired, aren't you?"
jungkooks voice cuts through the comfortable silence that has formed in the car and sure- if it weren't for his hand running tiny circles and patterns on your thigh you would've probably fallen asleep by now..
all you managed to do was nod, intertwining your hand with his, earning a small pleased smile from his side as he returned to ask, "how was yoga?"
you stayed silent for a bit, in a mix of trying to think about his question while your brain already felt so mushy, after a few more seconds of silence he squeezed your hand, "it's alright you don't have to think anymore," the tone almost mocking- in his usual loving way.
"no-" you protested almost like trying to prove you could talk and form thoughts properly, "at the end of the class we were thinking of what we are grateful for and..." your thoughts once again trailed of but this time to all of your previous weekends together, "i missed you"
"you can't just say things like that," he pulled your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing yours incredibly gently, "it makes me feel things- things that make me want to crash this car into the nearest tree," his voice almost sounding like a threat.
you don't know if it was your barerly functioning brain or the general effects that horniness mixed with exhaustion caused, that pulled you to mumble the following words, "y'know- i've been touching myself to the thought of you since monday"
the sudden loud squeack noise of him hitting the brakes filled the car- barerly managing to stop at the red light but jungkook himself seemed oddly calm for the words that were about to follow (& the fact that you almost ended up in a car crash), "you're actually gonna make me kill us, we're gonna die- and i wouldn't even have fucked you beforewards, i'm telling you- that's not gonna happen."
his tone dead serious as you grinned at his words, honestly you should be a lot more scared at the fact that you almost just both died but for right now all you could think about where his large veiny hands on the steering wheel and all the other places where they could've been in this very moment, barerly surpassing a noise at your own sick and twisted mind.
he groaned out your name, taking another sharp turn, "i swear keep it together, we'll get home and i'm gonna take such good care of you, i promise," squezzing your thigh to highlight his point.
he said home, home. you swore you were close to jumping out of this car and killing yourself, "home sounds so good when you say it" you confessed as his hand continued to scroll up and down your clothed skin.
he stayed quiet but you were sure you had seen him smile from the side.
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"when are you getting in? i miss youuuuu," you yelled through the bathroom, hoping it'll be heard till the kitchen where jungkook was answering one of his work calls.
jungkook had spent the past ten minutes undressing you carefully, peeling off one clothing at a time, with each one gone kissing the following skin that got exposed, so delicately that you would never in a million years would've thought this was the same man who almost lost his shit and crashed a car at the slight mention of your masturbation.
as he entered the bathroom again, placing the phone on the counter, he admired the view ahead of him as you pouted, reaching your hands out to pull him in, failing to do so while he muttered, "you're so sexy" under his breath.
"you can't even see my body yet," you answered to which: "your face is enough" followed. he quickly undressed himself while you were tempted at just the naked sight of him, all for you.
god- you felt like a horny teenager, you silently begged your mind to behave and not act like a animal the second he entered the bath thub.
so there you were, getting massaged by the one and only jeon jungkook while you struggled to surprass moans, leaning your head back onto his shoulder, little 'tsk tsk's coming from his direction, "you got so much tension, how did you even survive this week?"
you know you would've asked him if he had been a massager in his past life but the way he was kissing all the spots on your back, you wouldn't think that was to professional.
"you're so good to me," you mumbeled, practically melting into his hands as he shook his head, "there's nobody i'd rather be massaging then you" for a while he continued his relentless but very pleasant moves on your back till returning to speak, "you don't have to surprass all the pretty little sounds too, i like em"
you chuckled at the words, faking a sarcastic pornstar-like moan, "what's next you gon massage my tits or ass cause i have a whole lot of tensi-"
you didn't expect him to instantly give in, his hands immediately wandering to your tits, kneading painfully slow while you actually did let out a real groan at the way his hands always managed to be so rough yet gentle in the way they loved your body.
"what did you think about while you touched yourself?"
you closed your eyes to solely focus on his touch and voice noticing that it sounded almost breathless, "thought about your hands, your face, your voice, your dick, your tong-"
he turned you around to face him in one swift motion causing some of the water to overflow and spill, resulting in little waves around you both, kissing you instantly. "nobody gets me like this, how do you do it?" the closer he got to you, the more did you lean over to the sharp end of the baththub that was most likely gonna result in a mark on your body but you did not care not at all, not when he was practically towering over you.
there were two possibilties and ways he could go about this: either he fucks you nice and slow just how you deserve since you had such a tiring week or he roughly fucks your brain out because of how bratty you've been this whole night.
"fuck me," you leaned forward just a little, to show your body just a bit better, tiny bits of soap on your bare tits, "please"
he seemed practically hipnotized while you took his hand, leading it to run over your upper body to your belly almost ending up at your core, "touch me, love me, i need you," the last words practically breathed out.
"i'm gonna love you how you deserve, in our bed" he stood up, getting out for towels to wrap you in.
there it was again, the way he had been talking the whole night: our bed, our home. you wondered if he was doing it on purpose but you were to scared to ask him.
so all you felt that you could do was hug his broad back, resting your head on it, sudden sleepiness washing over you as you yawned, he intertwined your hands that were resting on his stomach with his once again, looking into the mirror ahead.
"you make me all horny and then yawn like it's nothing," he grumbeled, turning around to look at your face, your eyes almost closed now, "let's get you to bed, missy"
"but-" he squezzed your hand, politely shutting you off, "you need sleep and we can always have sex... just when you wake up"
as you went up the stairs all you managed to mumble was a tiny, "sorry, i feel like i lead you on for nothing"
but all jungkook did was kiss the top of your head, resting his arm around your shoulder, pulling up the towel as to warm you up, "you don't own me anything, never- especially sex"
you fell asleep in his arms later that night, happier then ever to have somebody like him to call your own.
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rastronomicals · 8 days
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5:24 PM EDT June 1, 2024:
Tortoise - "Restless Water" From the album Millions Now Living Will Never Die (January 30, 1996)
Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm
File under: Post-rock
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lewisvinga · 2 months
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million dollar man | lance stroll x fem! reader
summary; in the world of her million dollar man, y/n can’t help but feel like a lost puppy and stick out like a sore thumb leading to mess of jumbled feelings.
warnings; insecurities esp around money, reader is mentioned to be a healthcare worker/nurse
word count; 1.2k
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; i can’t tell yall the amount of times i’ve thought of this fic ever since i started the born to die series 😭😭😭😭 but i rlly let out my obsession w these luxuries out here 🫣🫣
‘born to die’ series masterlist.
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Why don’t you wear your new necklace? The one that your fiancé got you.”
Y/n could hear the smile in Lance’s voice as she stood in the bathroom adding the finishing touches to her makeup. “Yeah, because a Serpent around my neck would match the floral look.” She snorted, referring to the Bulgari necklace he had gotten her the week prior.
“I mean, you haven’t worn it yet. Where else would you showcase it for the first time other than your own engagement party?”
“Because it doesn’t match.”
What she said was partially the truth. The serpent necklace didn’t match her 3 thousand-dollar Oscar De La Renta dress.
It didn’t match with the gold Rolex on her left wrist or the diamond-encrusted Cartier love bangle, Juste un Clou, and the Van Cleef bracelet on her right wrist. Nor did it match the giant diamond engagement ring adorning her ring finger.
It didn’t match her white Louboutin heels nor did it go with the 20-motif Van Cleef Alhambra necklace.
It didn’t match her and that was her issue.
Y/n never even dreamt of the lifestyle she had been living ever since dating Lance. It was something so unattainable. The expensive bags, jewelry, cars, and private jets, she never even dared to dream of.
She grew up middle class, her parents having enough to be able to put food on the table, and have decent clothes, but not enough to earn them all the luxuries she has now. Sure, her nursing job earned her a decent amount of money, but the necklace her boyfriend had gotten her cost more than her yearly salary and that said enough.
She remembered the look on the faces of Lance’s extended family when they found out she did not come from another rich family and was just a regular pediatric nurse. They immediately assumed she was just with him for money. They talked and talked.
The gossip would become worse whenever Y/n would show up with a new bag or bracelet. She hated it.
She remembered when Lance decided to throw her a huge birthday party. He paid for most of it even if she protested. Not to mention, he gifted her not one but two Hermes mini Kelly’s. She remembered the looks on his aunt's face as she held a rare picnic mini Kelly.
“One for the money, two for the show, right?” He joked, chuckling at her shocked face, and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I love you, honey.”
“You’re unbelievable, Lance. I love you.”
The same picnic Kelly bag he gifted her was the one she decided to wear with her floral dress. A springtime engagement called for a floral theme engagement party, hence the dress.
Y/n stares at herself in the mirror after applying her Dior lipgloss. She looked like a million-dollar man. She looked so strange like she was unrecognizable. She had the dream life of so many but had no idea why she felt so upset or heartbroken.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize Lance had been calling her. “Honey, what’s the matter?” He asked, concern in his voice as he walked into the bathroom all dressed in an expensive suit.
“I hope you’re not getting cold feet before our engagement part.” He joked but his smile immediately fell at her silence. “Are you?”
“No! No!” Y/n quickly exclaimed, turning around and settling her hand on his shoulder. “I’m not getting cold feet, Lance. I want to marry you and I will marry you. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” He mumbled, grasping her hands. His dark eyes were filled with concern as his thick brows furrowed up. She still seemed hesitant to tell him what was on her mind. “Hey, I won’t judge you for what’s on your mind.”
Y/n sighed again as Lance gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “You know I didn’t grow up with this. All of these luxuries, expensive jewelry, even more expensive cars and bags. My nursing job can only cover so much. It can’t cover a quarter of what you give me.”
“And I don’t care!” He exclaimed, “You’re my fiancée. I want to spoil you. It’s my duty to spoil you. I don’t care what they think, I-”
“But I’ve seen the way your aunts stare at me.” She mumbled, looking down at her Louboutins. “I’ve heard their whispers. They just think I’m a gold digger who is only marrying you to have this lifestyle but I couldn’t give two shits about all of this! We could be struggling with money and I’d still want to be with you.”
She sighed as she let go of his hands. She turned around to look at herself through the mirror. “I see a stranger when I’m dressed up like this. I stick out whenever I’m with your family and they all know it. They never try to hide their whispers and they’re right. I don’t fit into this world, Lance. I look like a million dollar man but why does my heart still feel broken?”
“Y’know what I see?” Lance asked as he took a step closer to her, placing his hand on her waist. “I see the most gorgeous woman. Someone so unique and special that she’s like an exotic flower.” He chuckled, running his finger over the strap of her floral dress.
“I see someone who is so brilliant she used her brain to study to help children in need. I see someone with a heart so big, that she works extra shifts just to spend time with her patients no matter how tiring the week has been.” He continued, gently fixing a strand of her hair which made her let out a soft chuckle. “I see my fiancée, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with despite not growing up in ‘my world’.”
Lance leaned over and kissed Y/n’s cheek. “I see the woman who has always been by my side. I see the woman who will be the mother of my children. I see the woman who has stolen my heart from the day I bumped into her in that cafe.”
He spun her around so she was facing him. She rested her hands on his shoulder once again for stability as his hands held onto her waist. “I don’t see someone strange. I see you.”
She takes a deep breath, her pink lips curled into a smile as her eyes fill with tears. “You always know how to take a girl's breath away, don’t you?”
“Just yours.”
Y/n leaned up and pulled him close to kiss him, not caring if they were going to be made to their own engagement party. “I love you so much, Lance.”
“I love you so much, Y/n. More than anything else in this world.”
She leaned back down with a wide smile on her lips. She takes a deep breath and quickly glances in the mirror to ensure her makeup is still intact.
“Well, we can’t be late to our own engagement party.” Y/n chuckled, grabbing her bag and turning back to Lance. “Shall we go, my million dollar man?”
He kisses the top of her head as a smile matching hers appears on his lips. “Let’s go, my honey.”
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⌗︙・⚠︎ nanook snatching you away and "destroying" you ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝
To catch the gaze of an Aeon was something like a one-in-a-million chance—hell, it was practically an impossible task that even the likes of Herta would have difficulty completing. You're not sure if her Simulated Universe really counts, but given the number of times that Caelus had informed you of the Aeons he'd encountered, you guess that counts for something.
But when the gaze of Nanook swept over you, you felt anything but happy. It does not feel good, it feels wrong. Just seeing their molten gold eyes in all of their destructiveness focus solely on you made you feel things. Words like fear or dread were not enough to fully encapsulate what you felt at that very moment. You try to convince yourself that it's simply because Nanook is the infamous being of destruction that has made it their goal to eradicate all life within the universe. It's natural to be wary of the very being that wants to snuff out you and everything you have ever known.
But with the lasting impression that their eyes alone had left on you, it's pathetic to think that they had glanced at you with anything good in mind. Especially when they had not so graciously kidnapped you, vision filled with nothing glowing gold and black as it surrounds you——
——
————
——————
————————
————————————————————————————ah—.
You don't know why Nanook had taken such a liking to you, nor why they had taken you away from everything you had ever known and into the silent void of the universe. Hell, you don't even know how you're even alive and breathing in a place where that shouldn't even be possible, and yet here you are. Their once imposing and near galactic-sized body has shrunken down to what you can assume is their attempt at forming a mortal body, but they still tower over you. Even when they have made the attempt to look somewhat normal, they are still intimidating, and their very presence makes your skin crawl.
You don't want to look them in the eyes. But of course, Nanook grips your chin and forces you to look them in the eyes, not even a word leaving their lips. Behind those cold eyes, burns an infatuation that a human like you could never possibly fathom.
When they embrace you, it is awkward and cold, and you try to squirm out of their grip and push them away, but Nanook does not take well to rejection. Their already less-than-amicable expression bleeds into something even more unpleasant as their hands squeeze your wrists so tight you can nearly feel your bones shatter from the pressure. Your cries and pleas fall upon deaf ears, and they only let go when they are seemingly satisfied. When they try again, you do not resist their advances, fearing that they may not be so lenient the next time you were to be defiant.
So when they force their lips upon yours, destructive hands sliding up to come and grasp onto your neck, all you can do is close your eyes and hope that whatever their planning will all go by quickly.
Nanook truly lives up to their name as the Aeon of Destruction, that much you can say for sure. They've destroyed your happiness, isolating you within the very confines of an empty and expansive part of the universe for only their eyes to see. They've destroyed any hope and chance of possible escape, making it very clear when they forced you to watch as they destroyed yet another planet like it was nothing and making it clear they could very well do the same to you if you resisted again.
They're destroying your body, rebuilding it into something that desires them just as much as they desire you. Nanook repeatedly embraces you in this strange mortal body of theirs, seemingly viewing frequent copulation as the only possible way they could ever make you, a puny and ignorant human, understand their twisted infatuation. Their huge muscular body completely dwarfs you; you've never felt as weak and small as you do now.
Nanook is destroying your resolve to escape—
"N-no.. not there, s'too much, 'm gonna die—ughk..!" It's becoming harder and harder to breathe and stay focused, no thanks to Nanook's hands squeezing your throat from behind relentlessly. Their hips snap aggressively into yours, cock reaching places that trigger nerves that make your head spin and vision fade in and out. They're too big, too heavy—they fill up your lower belly with their cock, with barely any spare room left for anything else except for the copious amounts of their cum that they pump into you. They have to fill you with them—over and over again—until your mind can just barely grasp and comprehend their overwhelming love for you.
They're utterly ruthless, fucking you through orgasm after orgasm and never stopping to give you any breaks in between. Even when you've passed out because of how intensely they've fucked you, they still continues. Nanook only stops when they wants to, your pleas and cries for them to at least slow down, falling upon deaf ears. But sometimes if they're in a generous mood, they'll comply. Their stoic expression hardly ever changes, save for when they spill their seed inside you and lets out a few grunts and hisses. You're left gaping open, creamy white oozing out from your ruined hole as you try to piece together your pleasure-shattered mind.
Nanook is destroying your resolve to escape—
"Nanooknanooknanookna—" All you can fathom to do is cry out their name, the only plausible thing in your foggy brain. There is nothing around you to hold onto, nothing to at least stabilize yourself while Nanook blows out your backside and ruins whatever coherency you have left. But you can't even cry out their name, as you feel the grip on your throat move to your chin, letting you gasp for a brief moment before even that is destroyed. They're kissing you, drooling into your mouth as they grind their hips up into your ruined hole and groan against your lips as you squeeze and pulse rapidly around them.
Must feel nice, to copulate with and embrace such a destructive and cosmic being like them so frequently. No longer having to worry about mundane troubles anymore, like whether your next paycheck would be enough to support you for the rest of the month or whether the groceries you had just bought were about to expire the day after you bought them. All you have to worry about now is whether or not you'd pass out in the middle of sex because it's all too much or if your gaping hole would be oozing Nanook's seed and they'd have to scoop it all back in. You just have to be a pretty little thing and accept their affection in all of its palpable forms.
Nanook has destroyed your resolve to escape—
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© latimeriafellfromheaven
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ebenelephant · 2 months
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look i've been partaking in fandom for a number of years now but nothing so far has affected me quite so much as ninejackrose, and doctorjackrose in general. i feel nauseous just thinking about them.
because you have the obvious angle; they seem so in love, then jack is abandoned and waits for the doctor for 150 years only to find that rose is gone and the doctor a) has a new face and b) has moved on. after they left him, after all that sincerity and affection, they just carry on as normal as though he'd never been there to begin with. but also, rose clearly doesn't know about jack's immortality, so we have to ask, what does she think happened to him? what did the doctor tell her? how do you even begin to untangle the fucked up ethics of that one?
rose made this man immortal because she couldn't bear to think of him as dead, and no one even told her he'd died in the first place. she was nineteen. the doctor was over nine hundred. jack was in his thirties. she made him into essentially a perfect companion; somebody who the doctor loves, and who he cannot outlive. a reminder of rose's boundless capacity for love, and ten can barely even bring himself to look him in the eyes.
by the time ten meets him for a second time, when the daleks invade, jack is already older than him. jack is more than a thousand years older than him, in fact, because he was buried alive in 27ad and was forced to live for a millennia as a prisoner to the earth and to his own brother. jack finds a new family, finds somebody to love, and they all die. rose gets an imitation of the doctor to love in a world that isn't really her own; their lives will be a blink that the others won't get to see. the doctor also finds love and a family, and also loses them - every version of them.
they meet in a prison millions of lightyears away from where they first met – thousands of years after, depending on who you ask – because jack heard that the doctor needed help. he's barely aged; the doctor has had two faces between this one and last time. she recognises him immediately, though he mistakes someone else for her.
they still remember rose.
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bananami · 5 months
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and just like that i’m back on my nanami bs. i hope this helps you all heal from the trauma that was season 2 of jjk <3 (cw: pure fluff, dad!nanami, wife!reader, sex is alluded to a number of times, nanami is just desperate for his wife ok)
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“he just passed out, he usually naps for a good 30 minutes. i can do it in 20.”
you can’t help but laugh at your husband. ever since adopting yuuji the two of you have been adapting to your lives with a toddler. that included very limited one on one time, and it was taking a toll on nanami.
“i have to fold the laundry,” you’re tone is apologetic but your face tells him you find this amusing.
“you’re the greatest multitasker i know.”
you feel his arms wrap around you as you continue to fold yuuji’s t-shirts. the kid was so messy sometimes, it caused him to go through his entire closet in a weeks time. “we need to seriously go shopping and get him more things to wear.” you spun around to wrap your arms around his waist. “your child is a dirty little gremlin.”
“your husband is trying to be one too but you won’t let him act on it.”
“you are not gonna be 20 minutes, you say that but you’re not quick with it anymore old man.”
“who are you calling old man? i’m spry for my age.”
“see, you even sound like an old man.”
“an old man who just wants to show his wife how much he still loves her.” his hands slide up and down your back, holding you to him and bringing his lips to yours. “i love you. i miss you.”
“i miss you too kento,” you let him take his time kissing you. “ok, what if-“
“i love where this is going already.”
“i haven’t even told you.”
“the prospect of things makes me excited. really gets me going.”
you giggle, “so repressed.”
“you have no idea, it’s taking everything in me not to turn you around and accost you right here on the dining room table.” he leans his face down to nuzzle and kiss at your neck.
“accost?”
“accost. respectfully.”
you tighten your arms around his waist, satisfied with the heavy affection he’s showing you. “what if i call up gojo-“
“and just like that i’m soft.”
“kento!” you smack him in the back but can’t help the smile that sneaks onto your face. he’s so easy to rile up.
“you know the emotions his name invokes in me. i can’t stand him.”
“i was going to say, what if i called him up to see if yuuji can spend the weekend at his and geto’s place with megumi, and then you and i can have the entire weekend together. just the two of us.”
“i love him.”
“wow, wait until i tell him you said that.”
“i’ll never admit to it.” nanami takes your face into his hands, kissing at your lips over and over until a giggling voice breaks the moment.
“eeeeew!!” yuuji runs forward from the other side of the hallway, jumping up and down at nanami’s feet. “up, up, up!!” and when he does the pink haired little boy leans over to give you a kiss on the nose.
“thank you, yuuji,” you give his nose a kiss in return.
“thank you, mama!!”
nanami narrows his eyes and scratches at the boy’s belly, sending yuuji into another round of giggles at being tickled. “guess who’s house your gonna sleepover at this weekend.”
you send a look toward your husband. “he hasn’t agreed yet, i still have to call him.”
“he’ll agree. because if he doesn’t,” he presses a million little kisses all over yuuji’s face, “i might actually die. and then who will he have to annoy at work?”
“he does like to annoy you.”
“i’m well aware.”
“i’ll call him now.”
nanami sets yuuji down, sending him into the kitchen. before following him, he leans over to give you one last lingering kiss on the lips. “i love you,” his smile lifts into a tiny smirk, “and it is for that reason exactly that i say, with all of the love i can muster, i am going to ruin you this weekend.”
“ruin me?”
“ruin you. respectfully.”
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shanieveh · 10 months
Text
“ forget me not... ”
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synopsis: neuvillette, too late to confess his love to you, is drowning from the suffering and regret that came along with it, especially after knowing that you felt the same all along.
tags: gn!reader x neuvillette, depression and low self-esteem, bittersweet ending, mentions of freminet, lynette and melusines, heavily implied reader death and neuvillette also kinda wanting to die
a/n: people want this and i have came to deliver (hopefully) enjoy~ this is my first long fic that i published
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How can this be….?
Neuvillette sat in the corner of his office, all your letters in his right hand. How can you say you loved him… how dare you describe the love, the passion, everything you felt for him when he can't even say it back.
How can you love someone so unlovable?
His silent cries can't match up to the violent outbursts of the skies outside. Days went by when he first found out, the melusines were scared to death about who would report it to him. The way you dissolved into water, not even seeing you for the last time—not having the privilege to have a proper funeral.
He failed you… the monsieur wasn't too sure on many things but this one was certain.
Reading your diaries, knowing your thoughts and hopes for the future. It was an invasion of privacy but also in a way… the last remnants of your existence. One such entry was that of three years ago where you first met.
Encountering this, a profuse blush colored his face. The adjectives being used "handsome", "tall" and "kind" for your first meetingwith the chief justice. Far from the truth really, although Neuvillette knew you meant every word.
You always did.
You always were an honest person.
The very first day his lavender eyes met yours, to the very last. There was never a trace of impurity or a hint of a liar. Of course, the verdict went in your favor, because to him a precious rose like you can never steal and the plaintiffs were wrong.
Reading it now, not even a slightly negative comment was made to those who wrongly accused you.
"Maybe they had their reasons, after all, I was also in need of money at that time." you wrote. Adding on that you defended the "Monsieur Neuvillette" when people called "such a man of honor and kindness" a "merciless and arrogant man".
A man of honor and kindness? Your words became running thoughts in the hydro dragon's head. That day was one of the only days he didn't cry after a trial. Neuvillette was just happy that such a person of integrity was cleared of their name.
He turned through the pages of the diary, how you taught him to socialize and even mend his relationship with the hydro archon.
"Monsieur Neuvillette was too adorable! Being with a person of lowly status and treating me with such respect and humility, he truly is the epitome of mercy and loveliness."
How can you be so blind? Anyone with eyes will know that it's a privilege to be with someone so beautiful, especially to be with someone like Neuvillette. A cold and repulsive soul. You make him sound like a good person, when in fact he isn't both good and human.
He was a monster… these words of humanity you always used to describe a monster. Why do they sound so genuine? Why do they look so real? Maybe only you can make him like that, you and only you.
A few pages later he finally saw the words…
Words that should've made him scream in euphoria… tore him to a million pieces. Because even before this he already loved you… because you had so much time to confess but never did… and never will.
"I think I'm in love with the chief Justice."
And after that, he couldn't even get himself to read, he couldn't. His eyes got so blurry to see, his heart became too heavy to feel. Why were you… why you? In a world filled with monsters, they chose an angel. They chose a soul that still wanted to live, love and give. Those demons… despicable.
Remembering his shortcomings, maybe in some way he could've avoided all of this. Neuvillette shouldn't have given you his blessing to investigate the serial disappearance case.
But that glint of adventure in your eyes… he was too soft to reject you.
It was all his fault.
Wiping his tears he looked at the last entry of the diary… Oh.
Oh.
"After this investigation, I'll finally confess to him… I surely hope Neuvillette feels the same way, I even planted some forget-me-nots to give him in the backyard so that he'll know when it rains and he weeps. I will always be here."
The chief justice didn't know what was coming to him but he started running… and only then can he see the state of Fontaine. Many flowers have wilted and only a few people were outside. What had he become..?
"What's up with this weather? It isn't even the rainy season yet?!" A shop owner complained.
"I know! My crops have been drowning these days, at this rate if it doesn't stop we'll have a famine!"
It was all his fault, his running turned to a slow walk taking in all that he had done. This was all because of him. The lonely streets, the lowered morale. This was all because—
"Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, please don't cry!"
He turned to the voice and saw a young boy in the distance. Neuvillette remembered now, his name was Freminet. That child on which you doted extremely, giving him sweets and hushing his tears. The chief justice quickly let go of his gaze and continued to walk.
"You see Freminet, it didn't work... let's go inside."
The response was that of a stoic young woman, but he just continued his legs even if they wanted to rest all to see the last thing you cared for… those flowers. And when he finally was at the destination he saw it immediately outside.
It was in the bushes, he couldn't miss it. Every corner of your house was haunted, every tiny thing was a memory. The chairs you painted, the drawings pinned in the cabinet of you and him with the melusines. It was precious. All of it. Just as you are.
He finally saw them, most were almost to bloom and some were wilted. Picking one he unconsciously kissed it, perhaps mistaking it for you. These flowers were made to remind him he was never alone, but now he is.
More alone than he can ever be in one lifetime. Your scent still filled every corner, a remembrance of the biggest "what if" in his life. Your will stated that every single thing of yours is his just as you were always his. Bittersweet was he when reading it.
Neuvillete forgot that too included your house, maybe he was too consumed with your thoughts to visit this place. He was twisting the poor flower that looked so tiny compared to his hand. Perhaps that's what it's like to be with him. It's a curse…
He continues to caress the flowers, to treat them as if they were you. You were wrong on one thing about this, even if there were no flowers he will never forget you. Never, no way! The love he has for you can destroy nations and can cause millions of sacrifices. Just to keep you, to see your smile again.
But he can't even do that, you didn't give him the privilege to do something for you. If only he knew, he would've… done everything for you. The love that can create the strongest of floods failed to protect the one person he was supposed to protect.
At that moment, he felt the waters, the ocean, his home… you. It made his crying bearable, somewhat. Grief that could surpass a lifetime, wasn't enough. Nothing he can do will ever be enough to have you again. Perhaps he should also leave this world to stop being a burden to the people… and maybe to see you again.
"Neuvillette…"
Now he was even imagining your voice, or was he? Maybe he was delusional but he still followed your voice even if it took him to an unknown path. But the end was in a small pond, where you used to keep the fish, all of which were alive and well.
"Neuvillette…?"
At this he didn't even care if was going insane, your voice sounded like a melody even if it uttered his name. It sounded like a rare jewel, a myth, a prophecy too good to be true.
"Darling?" He replied in a hopeful tone. He looked through his surroundings, no longer was he in a pond but a terrain of boundless water. In the middle was a flying Oceanid, a spirit. Was it—could it be?
"Even I could feel the heavy pouring of rain, monsieur… don't be sad."
It was indeed your spirit, a part of you that remained before that bastard—he'll make whoever did this pay. It wasn't for justice anymore, this one is for revenge.
"How can I not? When I have failed you over and over again, I couldn't even get to say…"
"That you love me?"
His eyes widened, looking at you. Even if it didn't look like you, he knew… he always did. A nod soon followed after that, it was barely noticeable even at this rate the chief justice was a bit shy saying it.
"I just don't know why you could ever say you love me, how you could even think of me so kindly. Why? How? How can you love me back?" He was clueless to what you mean.
"How can I not?"
The reply you uttered was one of a teary-eyed person. Even to this moment you still haven't accepted you had died, not when he was still alone needing you.
"Just as you said… how can I not? You out of all people my dear… know of the sacrifices we make for the person we love."
It was that moment where you took your normal form, you looked beautiful as the day he lost you. As beautiful as the day you met. And as you walked towards him, the clock ticking until your final goodbye, it was time.
"I love you Neuvillette, i always had and continue to do so." For the last time, you cupped his cheek and kissed him.
"I love you, darling from the very beginning and every single lifetime to come." He let go of the kiss and hugged you tight, closing his eyes, until you disappeared not knowing he was hugging his own.
Opening his eyes, the rain was long gone, and what remained were the flowers in the bushes, the ponds, the fish, and him. Maybe… just maybe he will bring you and the other victims to light.
Until then, this one last encounter and goodbye will make him content. He was sure… that finally his love will be at rest.
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