#don't strip the link and claim it as yours

[mercedesaria]

#boy meets world #jonathan turner #shawn hunter #anthony tyler quinn #bmw #rider strong #mr turner #pod meets world #angela moore #will friedle #eric matthews #trina mcgee #don't strip the link and claim it as yours #instagram #credit og source if you use

[acapelladitty]

Cooper gives big sub energy if you open your eyes wide enough, don't you think ditty?

A/N: Maybe not sub energy but please enjoy this little thing where Cooper is forced to eat his partner out for being an ass. (1.7k words)

(tw: face sitting, orgasm, oral sex, dirty talk, threat of violence, biting, come marking, playful snark, mild violence)

Call Out Loud For You

Link to AO3 series

Fic Masterlist

Standing at the foot of the large cot which you had both decided to claim as 'home' for the night, your hands felt heavy on your hip as you held your ground against the smug ghoul who lounged against the threadbare sheets.

It had been a rough day. A bounty hunt very quickly went sideways as an isolated raider turned out to be very non-isolated indeed. And his friends weren't willing to give him up without a fight. But, as always, when the dripping blood finally settled and the missing limbs had been counted, it was Cooper and yourself who emerged the victors.

But still.

He had been a prick about it.

"Apologise." You demanded, wounded pride making you determined to get at least that out of him.

Sucking his lips in to unleash a short whistle, Cooper was unrepentant.

"Ain't got nothing to apologise for, so I won't be wasting the words."

His arm is raised overhead, nude body laying out utterly shameless and reddened against the pale sheets. A rogue chain had caught him across the outer thigh and the marks there would take days to heal. Your efforts to help with the injury had been swiftly rebuffed as he realised you were still looking for an apology and he had instead elected to strip off and drop to the cot, claiming it as his own.

For someone who was so vilified and hated due to his appearance, it sure didn't seem to bother him when it suited his mood.

Deprived of your own clothes due to the sweltering heat of the approaching night, you stood before him with equal pride - refusing to back down.

He knew he was in the wrong.

Those little affectionate brushes against your back and casual grabs at your body that had punctuated throughout the day after the doomed raid had screamed his unspoken guilt. But his stubbornness was maddening.

As was how horny his little games had made you.

Fuck it.

You were getting yours, one way or another.

"You always told me that the only thing we get in the world is what we're willing to take."

Proclaiming the sage words from a scowling face, you throw the advice back at him like a horse kicking up dirt.

"That I did."

"Then lie your stupid ass flat out on that cot. Arms by your sides and legs straightened out."

Surprise crosses his face for only a moment before being swiped away by something lecherous as his right hand drops to cup at his cock, the thick length laying half-hard against his upper thigh.

"I don't see how riding this old stallion is going to get your point across but I ain't complaining."

Shaking your head as you climb into the cot, your body slithers up his own like a serpent coiling in the desert heat until you can straddle his waist - making a point to ignore his cock as you sit above it.

"I'm gonna sit on your face and you're gonna eat me out until I forget that I'm mad at you. You're going to treat my cunt like it's your last supper before they execute your stubborn ass."

Narrowing his brow, the missing hole where his nose should be flaring as he inhaled, Cooper shook his head with a somewhat playful defiance; most of his fire having been extinguished by your soft body atop his as his hands immediately flew to your hips and groped at the flesh there.

"The hell I am. That sounds like a sorry to me, darli-"

Your hand makes a resounding crack as it collides with his hollowed cheek. On a regular man, it would leave a livid mark, but on Cooper - his skin already a darker shade than anything you could accomplish - it is truly undetectable.

What is slightly more detectable is the sly smirk which curls at the corners of his ragged lips and the way his pupils seem to dilate as he inhales sharply once more.

"Oh, it's like that is it."

"Damn right." Running your thumb across the ridge of his cheek, neatly atop the area which you had just slapped, you enjoy the rough sensation of his skin against your own as his hands increase their grip of you. "And if I hear any more backtalk then I'll just smother you. End of all my problems."

A thoughtful hum rumbles past his throat, and you feel it through your palm as you spread your fingers across his chest.

"Not the worst way I've died." Cooper admits. "Alright, darlin', hop on. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Shuffling forward, your inner thighs burn as they swipe across his collarbone in their efforts to position yourself so that his face - eyes burning in the shadows of their sockets - was in a prime position to service your eager sex.

"Might be the last meal you get, handsome." Sighing out the words, you spread your knees wide as you take the time to ensure your own comfort. "So don't waste it."

His response is too low for you to pick up properly, the syllables more a growl than anything else, but you can hear the bitchy quality to his tone as he dutifully pushes his mouth up to brush along your cunt.

He immediately sets out to punish you for that earlier slap, sucking at your folds with his lips and teasing the skin with blunted teeth. It's a lot and your fingers curl against the wall which the head of the cot sits against as you resist the urge to press down harshly on his face.

He seems to be enjoying himself though, his tongue licking a sordid line from your hole to your clit in one solid stripe.

"Fuck, Cooper-" You whine, legs tightening around his shoulders as his tongue grazes your clit; a sensation which sends lightning up your spine as your body tenses involuntarily.

Knowing he hit a good spot, he repeats the feat. His roughened lips add a cruel intensity to his movements as he suckles at your most sensitive nerves. It's hot and intense and too fucking much-

Grinding your cunt down onto his face, you momentarily mourn his lack of nose as an amusing image of being able to swipe yourself across it for extra stimulation flits through your mind.

His tongue would do though and you press your cunt against his mouth with vigour, forcing him to abandon your clit and refocus his attention on your hole. You're already painfully wet, his tongue lapping up more moisture than it was providing, and you feel him growl against your sex as he tastes you properly.

A vicious cry slips free of your throat as he disobeys your earlier demands and his calloused hands wrap around your inner thighs, pulling your lips apart to allow him easier access to his apology. His skin is hot as hell, the leathered texture as delightful as ever as his mouth messily latches on to your skin - sucking, biting, licking, and teasing every possible inch of you until your words are broken and incomprehensible.

A sharp pain makes you cry out and you feel the full ache of a bite radiating from your inner thigh, the skin unbroken but no doubt soon to bruise due to the hard treatment. The dual sensation makes your head swim as the pressure of arousal builds in your cunt.

Discomfort and pleasure.

Ecstacy and pain.

Pure Cooper in his most concentrated form.

Nearing completion, you can't help the bucking of your hips as he struggles to hold you into place - your cunt grinding on his mouth and chin as you chase that high.

"Fuck, Cooper. Just so- so fucking good. Need to do this- FUCK- do this more. Put that mouth to good, ugh, use."

It's a babble and a mess. Words stuttering and pitching as his lips find your clit once more and his tongue flicks against the engorged nub, sending you careening over the edge of the abyss.

Hands scrambling against the wall as your orgasm hits, the hot pleasure cascades through your body in waves - tensing and relaxing your frame in sync as you press down on his face. Without much choice, he swallows everything, his busy tongue refusing to let up its devouring of your cunt as your thighs clench around his skull.

Earlier musings blown to the side, you take a moment to appreciate that his nose was missing as your frantic jerking across his face would have probably broken it in several places. You ride your orgasm out against him, allowing him time to breathe when he earns it as his face skilfully tilts to the side to pull in sharp intakes of air.

Eventually the tension in your legs dies out and your cunt grows too overstimulated to be fully enjoyable and you push your hands off the wall, forcing your cum-soaked thighs to slip along his chest once more as you collapse to the side of him.

His face is a sight. The raw-looking skin glistened in the low light as his mouth and chin remain covered by your mess. His eyes were bright, piercing through your relaxed features as you wrap your leg around his own - marvelling at the temperature difference.

"Not bad, old timer."

Blissed out by his efforts, your attitude was much more amicable and to show your forgiveness, you lazily grip at his cock; the length rock hard and visible leaking pre-cum due to his own untouched arousal.

Deciding that maybe he did deserve a treat as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his scarred hand - bringing the collected mess to his mouth for a final taste - you run the pad of your thumb across the flared head of his livid cock in a playful tease.

"Let's see if we can do something about this little problem here."

"Little?"

Cooper's voice came roughly, his own aggression mellowed out by how visibly pleased you were with his efforts.

Still, he couldn't resist the bait.

"Not that little, I gotta say." You reply. "In fact, maybe I should return the favour and-"

Trailing off, you wetten your lips with your tongue and make a lurid sucking noise, something obscene and nasty, as your thighs press together gently.

It's not really that much of a surprise when his hand moves like lightning, snaring around your neck and pushing your head towards his cock while a faint yet familiar smirk sits on the corners of his lips.

It was your turn after all.

#amazon fallout #fallout #fallout 2024 #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #walton goggins #fallout tv #fallout prime

[covetyou]

baubles

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: ball fucking, ball sucking, balls, wall to wall all ball, BIV (ball in vagina), sex toys (the balldo [link to website] is real and it has haunted my dreams for 6 months - pic in this ask), there's some PIV too I guess. word count: too many and they're all balls 4.4k summary: Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.

A/N: I am NOT sorry. Not now, not ever. And, yes, I watched the instructional video on how to put it on, purely for Research Purposes. We don't talk about how long I've spent thinking about balls.

Happy Ball-idays, don't say I never got you anythin' nice.

...

Santa Joel-y, slip your ballsack right into me, oh gee.

I've been a fuckin' good girl,

Santa Joel-y, so stuff 'em up my chimney tonight.

...

It was your first Christmas in Texas and your first Christmas in a place that felt unseasonably warm for the time of year. That's what you tell yourself every night as you strip off completely before slinking into bed, at least.

Except, this night is different.

It's Christmas Eve.

And someone is in your house. You're sure of it.

A click of a button and you're on your feet, creeping to your bedroom door to listen out for the intruder. You almost didn't hear it, too preoccupied to be on the lookout for burglars on Christmas Eve.

There's a tell tale rustle, the stomp of feet. Whoever it is, they're not even trying to be quiet. You'd respect the brazenness of it all if someone hadn't broken into your damn house. You toy with calling the cops, maybe a neighbor, but you know it'll be too late by the time anyone gets here to do anything, so you make the stupid decision to head downstairs and confront the intruder alone.

Wrapping your flimsy bath robe around yourself, you grab the nearest makeshift weapon you can find (a broken umbrella you still hadn't thrown away) and click the door open, slinking out into the hallway and down the stairs.

If he hears you before you get down the stairs, he doesn't let on. But there, right in front of your Christmas tree is the unmistakable figure of a man. A big man. He's tall, and broad, and his silhouette is wrapped in something fluffy, making it look like there's a giant teddy bear standing in your living room.

You flick the light on, startling him, making him drop a heavy bag undoubtedly filled with your things onto the floor with a heavy thud.

"Oh, shit."

A single ornament rolls out of the bag and across the floor. You both stand frozen and silent, watching it move until it knocks against your bare toes. Only when it's stopped do you drag your eyes back up to look at the man who broke into your house.

Your umbrella clatters to the floor.

"What the...?"

The man before you is dressed as Santa, hat and all.

Only this man was not as old as you would expect for someone claiming to be Santa Claus. His beard is patchy, the scruff around his chin only speckled with gray. He has lines around his eyes, crinkled divots in his skin from so many years of laughter. The red coat pulled around his form is unbelted, falling open at the middle to reveal a white vest and the soft swell of his belly.

"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" you yell.

"Shh, quit your fuckin' hollerin'."

He takes a step toward you and you back into the wall, trying to keep your distance from the very Texan man who had broken into your house dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve.

And that's when you see behind him, to the glittering lights of your Christmas tree, and the branches covered in ornaments. Ornaments that did not belong to you. You'd bought the thing on sale at the grocery store just a week ago. When you put it up and plugged it in, grateful for the existence of pre-lit trees, you settled on the fact you wouldn't decorate it this year. Even so, it was beautiful as it was, and you enjoyed the soft glow of the lights in the evenings as you wound down after work. Now, that soft glow was accompanied by the twinkling reflections of the many ornaments hanging on it.

"Did you... did you decorate my tree?"

He looks at you like you're mad, and maybe you are. Maybe you came so hard on your vibrator upstairs that you passed out, and this is all a dream. A very vivid dream where you can smell the warm oaky scent of the man in front of you and feel the heat of him as he crowds you against the wall.

"What else do you think I've been doin'?" he says, as if it should be entirely obvious that he's been here decorating your tree all along.

"I don't know, maybe stealing my shit?"

He, once again, looks at you like you're stupid and gestures to his suit, red and velvety, draped around his body. It looks good on him, and does nothing to help the thick syrupy feeling still coursing through your veins. Having a man like him break into your house felt like one of lifes great injustices, but having him break in when you were mid-jerk off was purely inhumane. Other than point to the door and tell him to get out, there was nothing you could do but gape at him and hope he didn't notice you curl your toes as he looked at you.

He takes a step closer, heavy boot falling with a thud in front of you, and shrugs. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."

Up this close, the smell of him goes straight to your head, your body seemingly ready and rearing to go at the slightest hint of something masculine in your presence. Your tongue suddenly feels too big and clumsy so, not trusting a single word that would come out of your mouth, you shake your head. You would actually, really, very much like the decorations to stay and the man who put them there.

Texas always felt hot to you, but something about this room was now super heating. You're keenly aware of the stickiness pooling between your thighs, and even more aware of the visible sheen of sweat on your head and the warmth in your cheeks. If he looked closely, he'd even be able to see glistening on your fingers, making you look glitter coated in the twinkle of the Christmas lights. You shift, trying to mask the buzzing in your veins at his eyes as they drag down your body.

You hadn't noticed the silky tie of your robe slowly loosen as you wiggled and fidgeted. You were too warm to notice when the fabric parted, gaping over your chest and giving him a perfect view of your tits. You were too busy staring into his deep brown eyes to notice him raise his hand.

You did, however, feel the moment his finger stroked a slow trail down the swell of your breast, puckering your nipple and making a shudder run through your spine.

"You're all unwrapped, darlin'," he whispers, just as you remember to breathe again. "S'gettin' a bit warm in here, huh?"

He absentmindedly discards his hat as his finger traces down your body, flicking the light back off behind you once his hat hits the floor. You know where he, and this, is heading, and you're not keen to stop it any time soon.

When his fingers stroke across your mound, you gasp. Your vibrator had made you sensitive, but you'd never had chance to finish the job, and now here he was threatening you with a good time. He cups you, completely engulfing your pussy in his broad hand, and slides it between your legs.

By now it's no secret you're already wet, your upper thighs already sticky with it. His fingers slide through with ease, the quirk of his eyebrow visible now his hat has been thrown to the side.

"Here I was thinkin' you were on the nice list. But this little thing right here tells me you're naughty as they come, darlin'. What you been doin' to yourself all alone up there in the dark?"

You're staring at him opened mouthed as he works is thick fingers over you, dragging slick over your already sensitive clit. You'd been moments away from coming when the noise from downstairs pulled you out of it, and now here he was working you back up and quickly.

"It's my house," you stutter. "Can do what I want." And right now you want to collapse into a heap on the floor with his fingers between your legs.

"That you can. You wanna go back up there and finish yourself off?"

Logically, you know your pre-orgasm desperation is clouding your judgement, that you should take him up on his offer to leave and put a stop to this, but there's something too enticing about him. You don't want to stop.

"Or do you maybe want a hand with your... Little problem?"

"Yeah," you're nodding, eyes so heavy now you want them to snap shut, but you can't resist looking at him in the glow of your Christmas lights. Red really suits him, and you swear you can see his cheeks get rosy in the dim lighting.

"S'good. Got some little problems here myself. But, seein' as you're already halfway there, seems only fair to get me to your level before we start anythin', don't you think?"

Biting your lip, you nod, taking a step closer to him. Tentatively, you reach out a hand and caress the front of his pants. They feel velvety soft, and you have no fucking clue how he doesn't look as sweaty as you feel.

"That's right. You feel that?"

You feel something grow beneath your palm. Big, thick, and heavy. You look down in stunned silence, seeing only the odd shadows cast by the Christmas tree lights sparkling over the front of his pants.

"Get on your knees and close your eyes."

You obey, wanting very much to stay on the nice list now that you know exactly what you want for Christmas. His belt jingles as he undoes the buckle, pulling it from his waist and discarding it on top of his bag. He can't resist giving his dick a quick squeeze over the fabric of his pants at the sight of your bare chest heaving in the twinkling light, before unzipping them and letting them fall down to his ankles. The fabric is so loose he can step out of them, easily tugging his booted feet from the legs.

It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend the entire time eyes closed, listening attentively, and gently rocking your hips, discreetly humping the air in a desperate attempt to find any kind of relief.

"Tsk, got an impatient one on our hands."

The same hand he'd been stroking your pussy with wraps around his cock, slowly dragging his sticky fingers up and down his rapidly hardening length. He wishes he'd told you to strip, or left the light on so he could see you more clearly, but something about your skin under the sparkling lights and the shadows cast between your legs is making him harder more quickly than ever. When his dick twitches in his hand at your deep sigh, he finally stops staring and speaks.

"Open your eyes."

You snap them open, eager to see what he has for you, and your eyes immediately turn the size of dinner plates.

His cock gorgeous, and even in the grip of his large hand it looks big. He's long, thick with a slight upward curve and a smattering of salt and pepper hair at the base. You're fairly certain he trims it, keeping it well groomed and flush to his skin, making his cock appear even larger as it juts out infront of him.

But, despite the gloriousness of this mans cock, what you can't get over are his balls. They're heavy, and full, and getting tighter and tighter as his cock hardens under your gaze. You flick your eyes up to his face and he has a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

"Fuck," you say as you look back down at it, at them, and let out a shaky breath.

His whole body shakes with a laugh, jingling his bells, as you take in his length. Hand never leaving his cock, his gentle strokes become firmer, and he's guiding the tip toward your face a moment later.

"What should I call you?" you ask, realizing you don't even know his name yet, just as his tip touches to your lips. Exhilarating as it was to fuck a man who had broke into your house, you still wanted to know his name, and not even to press charges - you wanted to know what to scream when you came.

"Santa works just fine."

Pulling back, you scoff, "You want me to call you Santa Claus?"

"Fuck no! Do I look like a Claus to you? S'Joel."

"Santa Joel?"

"Fuck yeah darlin', now open up."

You stick out your tongue, waiting for his cock to slide along the spit slicked muscle. He drags his tip across it, letting you lick at his head before you capture his cock in your mouth, sucking it in and flicking your tongue lightly on his frenulum. The salty sweet taste of him makes you crave more, so you draw him further into your mouth, sliding up and down his cock as he stares down at you with an open mouth.

Dragging your hands up his bare thighs, you grab the base of his cock with one, steadying him as you suck. You tickle the other across his balls, looking up at him as he pulls in a sharp breath, before grabbing them and massaging them. His balls feel entirely smooth to the touch, and you have an irresistible urge to put them in your mouth.

Dragging your lips back from his cock, you lick broadly up the length of it again and again until you're dragging your tongue across his ballsack, slowly trailing up his cock to his tip, watching him all the while. Then you kiss his balls, humming in satisfaction as you finally press your lips to the soft skin.

The sight of you on your knees, making out with his balls is sending him stupid, and all he can do is stare down at you with a look of deep concentration on his face. If he's not careful, he's going to blow his load early, coming in your hand before he even gets to fuck you.

He watches you lightly drag your teeth over his delicate ball skin. He swears he sees your eyes flicker with something deserving of the naughty list when you hear his intake of breath, but he's too preoccupied by your tongue lathing across them to take much notice. You take it in turns with them, sucking each ball into your mouth as you slowly pump his cock in your fist, before releasing and working on the other. By the time you've had enough, his cock is dripping, smearing pre-cum over your hand as you jerk him.

Licking the drippy mess off of your hand, you look up at him, savouring the taste of his cum in your mouth.

"Please tell me you want to fuck me," you say, biting down on your swollen lips. You don't know what you'll do if he says no now, you know going back upstairs to your vibrator just won't cut it, even if you now have the fantasy of kissing Santa's balls to get off to.

"You kiddin' me, darlin'? Get up here."

Relief and desperation wash through you, and you climb off your aching knees, letting your robe fall from your arms.

"Couch?" you say, keeping a firm grip on his cock as you stroke up his chest. He pulls you toward him, holding the back of your neck as he kisses you, tasting his cum and balls on your tongue. His lips are impossibly soft, just like his balls, a stark contrast to the scratch of his beard.

Moving to the couch, you bend over, wiggling your bare ass for him. He chuckles, stepping closer to you and marvelling at the lights dancing over your jiggling backside. He shucks off his own coat now, leaving him in just his vest and boots, and hones in on the peek of your pussy from between your legs.

Sliding his length up and down your slit he groans, gripping your hip in his massive hand just as he notches at your entrance.

"Well, shit, that's nice," he says, sliding his tip into you.

You're inclined to agree - it had been a long time since anyone other than yourself had fucked you, and the red hot feeling of his hard cock in you felt better than you remembered. He rocks his hips a little, drenching his cock in you bit by bit until he's fully sheathed inside your eager pussy. The solid beat of your heart throbs through your veins and straight to your core, making you clench around him as he begins to fuck you.

"You're gonna yank my dick clean off if you keep that up."

"Can't help it," you moan, "Feels so good." You let your eyes close, succumbing to the slow, steady, pleasure building in you.

Snapping his hips more firmly, he bottoms out in you over and over, pushing deep inside you with each thrust. You can feel his wet balls slap against you, rhythmically whacking into your clit, but it's not enough. You're so desperate to come you lick your fingers and reach between your legs, swiping your digits over your clit. His balls instead slap against your fingers and you can't resist trying to stroke them again.

The noises you're making are going straight to Joel's dick, and he knows he's going to blow his snowy load way before he's ready if you don't stop, so he pulls away from you. You protest as his cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and still desperate to come.

"Got a present for you," he pants from behind you.

"The ornaments?"

"Yeah. Got some real pretty baubles for you, darlin'. You'll like 'em. I promise."

He goes to his bag, long forgotten on the floor, and bends over it. You watch his soft ass and the swing of his dick and balls as he rummages around inside the sack, pulling out two things before standing up. When he doesn't immediately turn back around, clearly playing with his own cock, you start to worry that you're not satisfying him. But then he rounds on you and you see his cock and balls glisten wetly in the twinkling Christmas lights just as he throws a bottle at you. Lube.

Catching him opening another box, you gasp and draw your hand to your chest in mock shock.

"Is that not my present to open?" you say coyly, now trickling lube over your own pussy. You don't need it, but whatever he has in mind clearly calls for it.

"Good things come to those who wait."

"I'm still waiting for the coming part."

He shoots you a admonishing look and you raise your hands in surrender, before snaking one back down to keep rubbing at your clit. You're about to go mad if you don't come soon, your clit is so sensitive, a firm nub between your legs now, and your pussy so puffy from so much stimulation. It's a wonder you have any blood left in your brain at all.

The object in the box is revealed, and you can do nothing but gape at it as Santa Joel proudly holds it up with a hand on his hip.

It looks like a torpedo cockring hybrid, and you have no fucking clue what it is.

"Get yourself comfy, gotta strap myself in."

Laying back on your couch - for all its flaws, an armless couch certainly had its benefits - you spread your legs and watch him with curiousity. You still can't work out what it is.

"What is -"

And then he stretches the silicone underneath his balls, pushing each ball into the cage with his thumbs before letting go. Oh.

Oh. "Oh."

You sit in stunned silence. He's turned his balls into a dick or, more accurately, a dildo. With the length of it and the girth of his balls, you can only imagine what it's going to feel like.

"If you don't fuck me with that in the next two seconds I'm gonna scream."

With the contraption strapped around his balls, pulling them down and taught, crouches over you, pushing your legs back so your pussy is pointing skyward like a sloppy wet landing pad for his balls.

He dunks the tip of the dildo into your pussy. It's cold and unfamiliar, not like the velvety warmth of his dick that stands straight ahead of you, taunting you with its glistening tip. If you could fold yourself in a pretzel you would, just to suck the head of his cock back into your mouth.

He pushes down, squatting over you with bare legs, sheathing the entire dildo into you. Another push and you feel the swell of his balls as they pop past your entrance and nestle themselves inside of you.

You gasp. The feeling is wholly unfamiliar, but still you feel yourself soaking him, slicking up his balls as they sit in your pussy.

"That hurtin'?"

"No. No, it's just I- I've never had someone's balls in me before."

"A first ball fuckin' for this little pussy," he says affectionately, stroking a thumb over your lips as they wrap themselves around his balls. His cock is protruding out of you now, like you're wearing a life like strap, and you really wish you could reach to taste where his tip threatens to drip onto you. Suddenly you understand the boys back in highschool and their failed attempts to suck their own dicks.

"They feel so big inside," you moan as he begins to gently shift above you. He pops out of you once, and pushes back in, and you throw your head back onto the soft sofa woth a moan. You have never felt anything like this. "Joel, please don't stop. Please keep fucking me with your balls."

"You got it darlin'," his voice is soft, in awe of you as you take his balls and the toy deep inside you. You feel incredible, and the wet slip of your walls on his ball skin shoots straight down his dick, and for a moment he thinks he's accidentally came too early. A quick look from your face, contorting with the fullness in your pussy, down to where his dick sticks outward, tells him otherwise. Thank fuck. He knows he has to get you off quickly. You were soaking his dick not too long ago, and before that his fingers, and before that your own sheets upstairs. You were ready, and he was nothing if not a giving man.

His thumb finds your clit, slippery from lube and your own slick, and he circles it, applying a firm pressure as he moves.

"Oh my god, that's it," you plead, opening your eyes to look at where he plays with you, balls still sunk deep.

You spur him on, rocking your hips as much as you can with your legs back, fucking yourself on his balls as he strokes your clit. You feel your pussy tense, little spasms warning you of what's to come, and you hold on tight to your own legs.

"That's it darlin'. Come on my balls. Squeeze 'em."

"F-fuuuck."

The swipe of his thumb sends you over, and you come hard on his balls with your head back and eyes squeezed shut. Your legs shake and you know he can feel how you twitch and spasm around his balls, drenching them as he dunks them in you, shallowly thrusting them as you tighten and grip him hard.

He's holding your legs back for you, looking you in the eye as he bends forward over your limp body when you open your eyes. The feral look on his face tells you he hasn't come yet, and you're desperate to see when he does.

"You been so nice I'm gonna give you an extra present. You ready?"

"Please Santa Joel, I've been so good this year," you say with a soft smirk.

He soon wipes the smirk off your face when he fucks down into you harder, practically bouncing off your ass as he slots his swollen balls into your pussy. They feel so big and heavy inside you, and even strapped down and pulled tight by the toy, you feel his balls tighten and try to draw up closer to his cock as he gets closer to coming.

"Come on me. Please. Come on me," you beg, staring between his cock and his face. Pre-cum had been steadily dripping onto you, splattering your belly, but you were hungry for more.

His fingers grip around his flushed head, stroking easily over the slicked surface. Pushing his balls deep, he bounces gently, loving the feel of his sensitive ball skin inside of your soaked hole.

"Here it comes, darlin'. Oh shit."

"Yeah, come on me. Come all over me Joel."

"Shit. Fuck."

You watch his slit as it seems to wink at you before ropes of come spurt out of the tip, shooting across your chest and neck, spattering your face and even your hair with his cum.

"Yes, yes, thank you," your eyes have snapped shut. You can feel the warm trickle of cum by your eyebrow, and you're not keen to feel the sting of semen in your eye.

For a little while he looks at you, fucked out by his balls and laying boneless on your couch. With a soft pop he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty without his balls in you. Your legs flop down and you listen to his deep breaths.

"Nothin' like a ballgasm," he pants.

Nothing like being ballfucked, you think, but the words are heavy in your mouth and you do nothing but moan, mumbling some nonsense.

"Mm... balls. They... mm. Yeah. Good."

"Too fucked out, huh?" he laughs, before swiping the cum from near your eye. "Make a Christmas wish," and he slips the finger into your waiting mouth.

He slides his finger from your mouth and you murmur a thank you as you make your wish, sighing and letting yourself relax completely for a moment.

When you tentatively open your eyes, wary of any errant drops of cum, he's gone, disappeared as soon as he'd arrived. You didn't hear the door, the window, anything. You certainly didn't hear him get dressed.

Feeling stupid, and like maybe it was all just a dream, you rush to the window. You don't expect to see anything, the man feeling too magical to have been real. But, there he is, walking down the street bare assed, his pants slung over his shoulder and his balls still swinging strapped into the toy.

No, you don't think you'll be forgetting your first Christmas in Texas any time soon at all.

next part

soz to my tag list for this: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #big bawl jawl #never forget the balls #fic: dress up joel

[systemrestart]

From Alison Bechdel's "Dykes to Watch Out For". Strip name "Au Courant", from 1994

I'd never seen this strip get posted, so I want others to see it. Mo, the character expressing 'concern' over the inclusion of trans women (as well as bisexuals) in lesbian culture, is often portrayed as being overly self-righteous, jumping to conclusions about others, and not critically examining her own biases and worldview. She was also the character in the comic commissioned for Transgender Warriors, where she learns she was wrong for being anxious about sharing a bathroom with a trans woman.

Mo is often either the butt of the joke, or receives a stark lesson in these interactions (whether by confrontation or just becoming socially isolated, because she's difficult to be around). And I found this framing important, especially as I've heard discussion of TERFs trying to claim Bechdel as one of them.

This comic was not made to validate Mo's opinions or feelings. The characters in Bechdel's comics are often messy, short-sighted, even bigoted. They're human. This comic does not valorize or 'condone' these flaws, merely shows them for what they are, as well as the consequences that come with them, and the effects they can have on your communities.

[Update Note: Recently learned some new things about Bechdel's feelings/choices regarding trans issues (particularly transmisogyny), link here if you're interested in reading. It seems that beyond DTWOF, Bechdel 'supports' trans people in an esoteric sort of way, but is seemingly unwilling to unpack deeper transphobic feelings/views, or her ties with TERF-aligned people. Deeply disappointing.

I don't think that impacts DTWOF itself much (except the framing of the character Janis, may make a post about that someday), as again all of the characters in DTWOF have wildly varying views, and that's The Point, but, it's something I think people ought to know if we're going to have a discussion about Bechdel in connection to TERFs and transmisogyny]

Transcript of the comic below the cut:

[ID: A "Dykes to Watch Out For" comic strip by Alison Bechdel, featuring the characters Mo and Lois. The conversation is as follows:

MO: Oh, jeez. Here's a submission for "Madwimmin Read" from someone named Jillian who identifies as a transsexual lesbian.

LOIS: Cool.

MO: The cover letter says, "I hope you'll consider changing the name of your reading series for local lesbian writers to be inclusive of transgender and bisexual women writers too." Oh, man!

LOIS: Guess it's time to get with the program, huh?

MO: What am I supposed to do? Have bi women and drag queens come in here and read about schtupping their boyfriends?

LOIS: Why not? I'm sure they'd have a unique perspective on the topic.

MO: Lois, I'm still trying to adjust to lesbians using dildos! What am I supposed to make of a man who became a woman who's attracted to women?!

LOIS: Love is a many gendered thing, pal. Get used to it.

MO: Well fine. Let people do what they want. But I'm not gonna add this unwieldy "bisexual and transgender" business to the name of my reading series. I don't even know what transgender means!

LOIS: It's sort of an evolving concept. I mean, we haven't had any language for people you can't neatly peg as either boy or girl.

LOIS: Like cross-dressers, transsexuals, people who live as the opposite sex but don't have surgery, drag queens and kings, and all kinds of other transgressive folks. "Transgender" is a way to unite everyone into a group, even though all these people might not self-identify as transgender.

LOIS: In fact, the point is that we're all just ourselves, and not categories. Instead of two rigid genders, there's an infinite sexual continuum! Cool, huh?

MO: How do you know all this stuff?

END ID]

#alison bechdel #dykes to watch out for #dtwof #transgender #lgbt history #thought it was important to share this. ive been reading a lot of dtwof #theres another strip im thinking of sharing about Mo being called out on her ableism #just not sure how to word my thoughts or if i should just post it or something #(update has been adding with new info for the bechdel-transmisogyny discussion)

[youngeritoshi]

HELP I'M NEW TO TUMBLR I DON'T HAVE A CLUE HOW TO DO THE PART 2 PART 1 LINK OR SOME SHIT BUT OKAY HERE'S PART 2

After that day that your view of him completely changed, the days you thought that he was being too rude pushing you out of his room was probably just because he was looking at you too much and was embarrassed that you might see his boner in which you did

Nowadays, you would "innocently" tease him. Rin doesn't have a clue on what you're up to but he loved your attention. He loved how your boobs peeked whenever you talk to him but always hated the fact that the rest of the team kept staring at you. You're all his. He has to claim you.

"hey Oliver! How's practice"

Why were you talking to him, you can ask that question to Rin but the itoshi kept wondering why you were ignoring him the whole day. 'Fuck you yn' he thought. god it was driving him insane. You even let Oliver slap your butt cheeks 'jokingly' so you can tease him, Oliver was in this, he saw the way Rin looked at you, the way he took those long bathroom breaks after talking to you even just a greeting. On the other hand, Rin wanted to pull you away from him and smack you to the wall and fuck you right there and then but there's no way he could give Oliver the satisfaction of his defeat so instead Rin stayed calm, walks towards the both of you, "yn, can I talk to you?" he pulled you away from Oliver.

"yeah I won the bet"

"no fucking way Oliver, I never thought Rin was like that" Isagi and Bachira suddenly showing up. "yo Yoichi remember when you were doing the laundry and found stains on Rin's shorts? Could it be?"

"Fuck you Nagi"

Rin's grip was starting to hurt, you looked at him, oh he was furious alright. "Rin where are you taking me I was still talking to Aiku" you acted dumb. You needed him so bad. Where the fuck is he taking you? Why isn't he fucking you against the wall right now. "why were you ignoring me the whole day"

"do I need to talk to you everytime?"

"Fuck yn why can't you just choose me"

You can feel his breath right in front of your face, you guys were that close. In a matter of seconds your and his lips touched starting rough very rough, he needs you and you need him, so bad. His little cock hurts because it needed to be inside of you. You threw you arms around his neck, he carried you to an empty room before stripping you naked, he was doing it in one arm, then the other arm holding you. This was way too hot, you thought. "you're so strong Rin", "stop talking you slut" he began to unzip his zipper, not breaking the kiss. His cock was rocking hard, oh it waited for this moment. Not wasting a single second he slid right in you. "fuck yeah" he moaned like a virgin first time fucking a good wet matured pussy, warming up a bit. The thought of being inside of you everyday. He wished for that moment and wish granted. He pounded on you, you were holding your moans, you're a little embarrassed now you've got caught up in this situation. "what's the matter doll? C'mon let me hear you" he pounded a Lil faster and harder this time. You couldn't hold it. You moaned loudly into his ears. he fucking loved that. It turned him on. You were cumming on his dick but he couldn't just stop, no, he wished this for a long time, he couldn't just stop now. "I'm gonna make you pregnant you fucking slut, you whore, fuck your pussy feels so good"

"do you like that huh? Do you love it when I'm in your tight pussy?"

"R-rin~ a-ah~" your legs were weakening, you're so tired but he kept on going. Your insides were overflowing like you were a fucking cum dump. His cum dump. It was a hot mess. The itoshi was sweating, it was like a whole workout. He couldn't stop. Your lewd face and lil reactions to when he pounds at you was too cute, it turned him on. "Rin, please.. A-ah~ awh~" music to his ears. Keep saying his name. Scream it. Hold onto him tightly. Scratch his back even more. Pull his hair. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck "yn I'm going to cum" he can't pull out. Your pussy feels too good, please don't make him pull out. "R-ri ah~ don't P-pull out" thank you. Thank you. Thank you. "Fuck ah yn ah I'm going to cum" he pounds faster and rougher before reaching climax. You two were out of breath, sweating, he pounded a lil more before finally pulling out. your clit was full of cream, he offered to clean it up for you.

With his tongue, but please do suck him to sleep after that. :p

Okay horny hoes this basically sucked so am never gonna post again but ye hoped y'all like my delulu thoughts before I go to sleep LMFAOO

#rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi au #blue lock smut #smut #yandere #blue lock manga #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi brothers #rin itoshi smut

[dreadsuitsamus]

Napping With Goku Headcanons | Goku x Reader |

author's note: took a nap and wanted big man in bed with me 🤷‍♀️

pairing: goku x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, will make you want big man in bed with you too

Being the wife of Goku is a daunting task

Cooking for him, cleaning up after him, and not to mention his libido makes him a hard man to keep up with

As a result, you take naps

You tend to frequent at least two a day, sometimes more if you don't have much on your to-do list

Your usual morning routine is typically to make breakfast, tidy up the house, take a shower, and then have a small nap, normally about an hour long

Goku's normally training during the day, so when you get in bed, you're by yourself

But when you start to come to again, the bed is dipped beside you and there's a solid mass slung over you, usually accompanied by snoring

You smile with a soft chuckle, a little yawn escaping your lips while you snuggle in further

He's got to have some kind of nap radar, because Goku is always here for naps

Goku likes tucking his face into your neck, in love with how you smell and finding comfort in it when he needs a little extra help falling asleep

He also presses small kisses to the skin there while he's falling asleep

You're thankfully only partially crushed by his thick, muscled body, as he keeps most of himself on the mattress instead of you since the last time he didn't mind his weight, he got an earful and didn't get to finish his nap

His arm is tightly around you, giving you very little wiggle room. Even when you fall asleep side-by-side, you always wake up in this position

A very low, quiet hum escapes you while you close your eyes and comb through his pitch black hair, occasionally scritching at his scalp with your nails

Goku nuzzles his face further into your neck, his lips brushing a soft kiss against you

Another yawn passes your lips and you squeeze him just a bit

"Mmm... Issit time to get up?" He mumbles every single time he wakes up beside you. He'd be content sleeping all day, if you'd let him

"Hmmm... Not just yet."

"Mkay... Good." He'll pull you just a bit closer to him, moving his head and nuzzling your sleep-warm cheek

"Soft... Warm..." He'll mumble rather adorably, his eyes still closed and voice cloaked with sleepiness

"Mhm." You hold back yet another yawn and lean your head against his, sleep slowly claiming you both again

You only tend to get another thirty minutes of naptime, though, before Goku's poking at your cheek to wake you

"Mmm... Hnn... Hm?" You blink away the blurriness, slowly realizing the wide-eyed, innocent look on your husband's face

"Can we have lunch now? I'm starving!"

At least you still have the 3pm nap

Bonus Headcanons: Napping with Baby!Gohan and Goku

When Gohan is born, the naptime routine is completely shot

The baby is up frequently for nursings, so you're always on alert for him to wake up, and lose out on precious cuddles with Goku, alongside those much-needed winks of sleep

Goku is not meant to be a housewife, as his attempt at sharing the household chores proves. Though you do appreciate his sentiment, and tend to saddle him with the baby so the dishes can be done without something breaking

Sometimes, though, Gohan's naps line up with yours, meaning you can actually do as everyone says to and sleep when the baby sleeps

You'll be nursing him in his rocking chair when he falls asleep, and you've got zero time to fawn over how damn cute your son is when he's asleep

You hurry to the bedroom, careful with Gohan as you climb into bed

pop

"Yes, nap time!"

"Not if you wake him up!"

"Oops!"

Goku strips down to his undies and basically flies under the covers with you, taking little Gohan and laying him on his broad chest, the little bean snuggling in comfortably in his father's warm embrace

He'll pull you into him, a protective hand on the baby's back and the other comfortably rubbing the soft curve of your waist

You lay on your side and curl into his muscled body, linking your fingers with his hand on Gohan's back, the both of you protecting your precious son from potentially rolling off of Goku's chest

Goku will drop a kiss on your forehead and then one on Gohan's before settling into the pillow

You all sleep for a few good hours, smiles on your faces when it's time to get up again

Goku will look down at you with that sleepy smile, blinking slowly with a noise of surprise when you kiss him full on the lips

Napping is his favorite thing to do with you

#goku x reader #goku x you #goku #db #dbz #dbs #headcanons #i want to nap with goku #i am sleepy

[rimbaud-fan-page]

This is not war, this is a massacre.

I want to make it very clear that I stand with Palestine, I stand with the people in the West Bank and Gaza, I stand with Palestinians everywhere. If you claim to be neutral or in anyway support the heinous actions of the Israeli Government, this page is not a place for your intolerance.

For anyone who is uneducated on the matter, I will provide links below so that you learn more. For anyone that wants to support the people of Palestine, I will provide links to resources so that you can provide that support.

Even if you have no money, you have something to give to Palestine, and that is your voice. The Israeli government wants to sweep this under the rug, pretend like it's a war against Hamas and not the genocide that it is. As of recent, Israel has cut off power and communications within Gaza, which has left all without means to contact each other and the outside world. Hospitals in Gaza are running out of supplies and power to treat the wounded, if power and support is not returned, thousands of innocent people will die, many of those being new-born babies. Hamas is not in the hospitals, nor in the schools, nor the neighbourhoods that Israel has been bombing, by now it should be blindingly obvious that the actions they are taking are against the people of Gaza, and not Hamas.

Israel has closed the borders to Gaza, there is support waiting just outside it's walls, but they are being deprived of the food, water and medical supplies that could save lives. This is inhumane, disgusting behaviour, and anyone who condones these actions needs to wake up.

Don't allow this genocide to carry on under our noses, don't allow innocent lives to become statistics, show your support and share their stories, whether that is donating money, sharing posts about what is happening, or simply staying educated, do not let Israel continue these actions in silence.

Links to learn more:

Links to support Palestine:

Google Doc of charities that are supporting the Gaza strip:

#this is not war #free palestine #palestinians #israel palestine conflict #israel hamas war #hamas #israel #genocide #ethnic cleansing #war crimes #gaza strip #gaza #free gaza #save gaza #gaza genocide

[softguarnere]

I'm really happy right now because like i said i really love reading your works and i wasn't going to ask another writer if they can write an imagine for me 🥺 I'm an engineering student so can you write something like reader is a mechanical engineer in army and let's say there is a problem with weapons in Easy company so she is tasked with controlling and fixing the weapons. While there she hears the rumors about what Speirs did to Nazi POW's and begins to fear and disgust him because she is still a bit of humanist and this bothers Speirs because he has started to have feelings for the reader. I really like angsts with happy endings. I hope writing this is not a problem for you. Please don't force yourself and take care of yourself 💖🙏 (Also sorry for my shitty english i'm not a native speaker)

If You Strip Away the Myth From the Man

Ron Speirs x reader

A/N: Confession: I live in constant fear that I'm writing Speirs wrong. This was such a fun prompt, and I hope that I did it justice. (And don't worry about your English, Anon! It's very good, and I would be a hypocrite if I complained.) I hope you're also taking care of yourself, and I hope you like this 💕🕊️ This title comes from Heaven On Their Minds from Jesus Christ Superstar

(This is written for the fictional depiction from the show -- no disrespect to the real life veterans!)

Warnings: language, mentions of war

Rumors, you’re starting to realize, move faster than anything else in the army. If orders and supplies could move as fast as rumors do, then maybe the war would have been over by Christmas the way that everyone kept claiming that it would be. Then you wouldn’t have spent those terribly cold days in Bastogne, freezing in the cold earth in between running from different locations, trying to adjust and fix various weapons whenever the army ordered you to do so.

But if not for that, then you wouldn’t have been brought here – to Easy Company in Haguenau.

It’s not the first time that you’ve visited this particular company. You’ve linked up with them before, briefly exchanged pleasantries with the men while you fix whatever problems they might be having with their weapons. Some of their faces have become recognizable, but their names have eluded you.

Until now.

With the end of the war so close at hand – allegedly; it’s all being said by the same people who claimed that the war would be over by Christmas – the army isn’t willing to risk anything going awry. That’s why they’ve assigned a munitions expert to every company for the foreseeable future. Which is fine by you. At least now you won’t be running to and fro with no clear sense of what might happen next. It seems to be fine with the men of Easy Company, too, seeing as they welcome you with open arms . . . And they certainly waste no time in letting you in on the company’s history and hearsay. Especially, it would seem, when it regards their new Captain.

“He wasn’t in charge the last time I paid you guys a visit,” you remark, nodding to the tall man walking by with purposeful strides.

“Who, Speirs?” One of the men – Sisk, you’re pretty sure by this point – clarifies. He lowers his voice, even though the captain in question is already out of earshot, having disappeared into one of the tattered building’s other rooms. “Yeah, if there’s one thing we like to do around here, it’s cycle through captains.”

The last person you can remember being in charge of Easy was Winters. He seemed like a fine man, and the men all seemed to like him. That was back in Holland. God, it feels like forever ago now. You tell Skinny as much.

He laughs. “You’re behind on the times. There were more after Winters. But Speirs has been one of the best we’ve had since him.”

“Yeah, especially after Dike,” another man – Liebgott – adds.

The funny guy – Luz, you remember – laughs. “There’s someone who set the bar real low.” Then, in a serious voice that you’ve rarely heard him use, “Speirs really has been good.”

The rest of the men who are hanging out in the supply room nod in agreement.

“Yeah, and he seems to like us really well. Doesn’t have to worry about keeping us in line,” someone else snickers. The men all laugh at that.

Okay, so there’s a joke there, you think. One that you’re not privy to. And the men must realize it too, because their smiles fall when they notice that you’re not laughing along with them.

“You haven’t heard?” Skinny asks. “The stories about Speirs, I mean.”

Rumors? Or stories? Either way, you haven’t heard much about Easy’s new captain, other than that he’s new and, apparently, there are stories about him. You shake your head.

Luz whistles. “Well then, (Y/L/N), you’ve got some catching up to do.”

. . .

One of the good things about your job is that you mostly stay around privates and NCOs. Officers only come to you if they have a question, and that’s a rarity. You don’t mind the officers of Easy. From what you’ve seen, they’re wonderful leaders. However, after hearing the stories about Speirs in the week or so since you’ve joined the company, you’re glad of an excuse not to be around him – a goal that is becoming harder by the day.

Speirs has been spending more time than usual among the privates and the NCOs. No one else seems to mind, if they notice, but your heart turns to a block of ice every time that you see him enter the room. For God’s sake, this man is a murderer, and they’re letting him walk around free? It’s one of the stranger things that you’ve experienced since joining up.

Maybe it’s because of what he did at Foy. Running headfirst into danger to link two companies and then running back? It doesn’t even seem possible. That newest story seems to be what the men of Easy Company are most focused on. Impressive, yes, but you can’t think of it without also thinking of the stories of the POWs he mowed down in cold blood, after offering them cigarettes, of all things.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned since the war started, it’s that seeing combat makes some people lose their humanity and their morals. You’ve been lucky enough to hold onto yours. Even though sometimes it feels like your grip is slipping or that you’re holding on so tight that the effort makes your fingers ache, at least you’ve retained your decency. And you won’t let it go now.

“Morning, Captain Speirs!” McClung calls out as the captain enters the room for breakfast.

The captain nods his greetings to the other men, who keep talking as if nothing has happened. They used to fall silent when he walked into a room, as if the sound of their amiability would set him off. Now they continue on as if any of the other men have walked into the room. Sometimes they even try to invite him into a joke.

You, though, cannot forget the stories that you’ve heard. There is still goodness in the world, even if people like Captain Speirs cannot handle knowing that. When he takes a seat a few people down on the other side of the table, you avert your eyes and engross yourself in a story that Heffron is telling instead of acknowledging the presence that you cannot help feel is always keeping an eye on you.

Paranoia, you tell yourself, is a hell of a thing.

. . .

Laughter is the first thing that Speirs notices when he approaches the basement where all the men are having their breakfast. It doesn’t stop when he enters the room this time, like he’s snuffing out a flame. Some of the men even nod to him in greeting when he shows up in the mornings. For all the rumors that trail behind him – he’s aware of them; rumors always have a way of reaching their subject – it would seem that his men have either elected to ignore them or have forgiven his supposed sins.

Well, the men have, anyway. The new munitions expert, (Y/L/N), doesn’t seem to care much for him. He’s assuming that’s because of the rumors. It has to be. Any time that he enters a room, she used to make the same frightened look that all the men were constantly giving him after the jump into France. Now she won’t even look at him most of the time. When she does, it’s only to glance at him before looking away again, like she’s disgusted by his presence.

Speirs didn’t join the military to make friends. No, when he was drafted he knew that he needed to perform his duty to his country. The rumors that have begun to cling to him are a side effect of turning into a soldier. Gossip never bothered him very much. And neither did the scared looks people gave him.

Until now. For some reason it bothers him that you won’t even so much as look in his direction. Sometimes he even finds himself wondering what he can do to change that.

Today he greets his men, takes his breakfast – er, what bland food is passable enough that they’ve started calling it breakfast – and turns to find a seat among the others. Before he can question his own intentions, he moves with long, quick strides to the seat across from you.

“Morning, Cap,” several of the men greet him.

“Morning,” he replies, trying to ignore the way that you freeze at the sound of his voice and the way that your eyes go wide when you look up at him. His stomach drops. This is like being fifteen and getting rejected by the girl that he likes all over again. Something about it is nerve-racking and devastating all at once.

Maybe he should have brushed off all those rumors back when he had the chance – back before they clung to him so tightly that the myth became inseparable from the man.

. . .

The day after the patrol is atypical. Sleep eludes most everyone, despite the events of the night. Those who can catch a few moments of rest. Everyone else tries to stay out of their way, careful not to make too much noise. It’s unusual to see the men of Easy Company so subdued, their moods somber and their voices quiet.

The deck of cards you managed to nick while Luz wasn’t looking are a comforting weight in your hand as you walk the halls of the skeletal building. Heffron always seems to be up for a game of cards. And if not him, then surely someone else will be willing to play, eager to distract themselves after the events of the night.

“ – did all you could,” a voice in a room up the hallway from you is saying. It’s familiar, but its tone is . . . gentle and . . . reassuring.

Slowly, you inch forward, wanting to see if the voice really does belong to him – if he really is capable of being so soothing – but not wanting to interrupt the conversation. Or worse, make it seem like you’re eavesdropping. (Which, technically, is exactly what you’re trying to do. No one else needs to know that, though.)

The disheartened voice of Doc Roe answers. Funny, you’ve never heard his voice sound so dispirited. Somehow, the roles in the conversation have been flipped.

“We still lost a man,” Roe says. “Is there any way we can get more supplies? I know they’re hard to come by right now, but I don’t feel prepared.”

A beat of silence follows. You’re by the doorway now. Carefully, you peek around to see Roe and Speirs in the room. Roe looks upset and Speirs looks inscrutable, as usual. You watch as he thinks for a moment before he reaches out and claps Roe on the shoulder.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he assures the medic. “But Doc, you did all you could. Remember that.”

Roe nods. “Thank you, Captain.”

Quietly, you move back from the doorway as their meeting ends and footsteps approach. Thankfully it’s Doc who exits the room, and he closes the door behind him. He’s still for a moment and lets out a sigh. You don’t move, but he turns to you anyway and offers a small smile as he starts down the hall in your direction.

“You know,” he says as he passes you. “Captain Speirs is really an understandin’ guy underneath all that toughness.”

Then he continues down the hall, leaving you standing there, alone, considering what you just overheard: something soft and unexpected – much different from the Speirs you know . . . or think you know.

. . .

Rules are a fickle thing. They probably exist in Austria in some form or another. Yet no one seems to know what they are, and those who hint that they do don’t seem too keen to follow them. The mountainous landscape quickly becomes a place of fun and fraternization. Not to mention any of the other activities that the army would surely frown upon. Like the looting.

“I’ll trade you,” Perconte entices you for the hundredth time.

“Perco, what do you need with another watch?”

The Italian smiles. “Just startin’ a collection, (Y/N). And I intend for it to be the best in the whole army.”

“Uh huh. But you want this watch why?”

Maybe it’s the heat of the spring afternoon, but it looks like a shade of pink tinges Perconte’s cheeks. He scratches the back of his neck and shrugs. “All I have are men’s watches. And that one – “ he nods to the one on your wrist. “ – is exactly what I got in mind for a certain girl back home.”

“Awe, Perco. Who’d have guessed that the war would turn you so sentimental?”

“Shut up.”

The watch you brought from home was broken during basic training on an obstacle course. Your second one got scratched up at some point after the Allied Invasion, and continued to get worse until one day you looked down and realized that you couldn’t tell the time on it. You only kept it on because its familiar weight was somewhat of a comfort. Now, in Austria, with so much finery everywhere, it wasn’t hard to find a new one. Still, it’s not exactly anything special – just a slim but study leather band holding a beautiful gold watch face. It’s practical, if not a little hard to read the small numbers.

Maybe Perconte isn’t the only one that the war has turned all sentimental. It’s sweet that he’s thinking of someone back home that he wants to impress. Besides, you can always find a new watch.

It unclasps easily and you hand it over to him, watching his smile grow. “I hope she likes it.”

“Gee, thanks (Y/N)! You’re a lifesaver!” He thumps you on the shoulder before taking off with the watch, whistling while he goes. You watch him, smiling to yourself. Home is on the horizon. All anyone can do is hope for someone as thoughtful as Perconte to have remembered them fondly enough to give them a token of their affection.

“He’s in a good mood.”

You freeze as you register the presence by your side. Like Hades and his Helm of Darkness, Speirs has materialized out of nowhere. When did he get here?

“Yes, Sir. He is.”

“Say,” Speirs says casually. “You wouldn’t happen to have the time, would you?”

What an odd question. You turn to face him, only to find an unfamiliar expression on his face. He wants you to answer, even though it seems like he knows exactly what answer to expect from you.

“No, Sir. I just gave my watch to Perconte.”

“Oh. That’s inconvenient.”

“I suppose it is.”

Speirs digs in his pocket. “Well, no one should walk around not knowing what time it is. How about you take this one?”

In his hand, when he extends it to you, is a beautiful silver watch. A bit bigger than the one you just gave away, and definitely flashier. Diamonds encrust the watch’s face like a crown on a monarch. The silver band looks more delicate than the leather one you’ve grown used to in the past few days, but it’s undeniably beautiful.

For some reason, you nod. You extend your own hand to receive the watch.

“Here,” Speirs says. “Allow me.” His voice rises slightly at the end, like it’s a question. He pauses, once again waiting for your answer. When you nod, he takes your hand and carefully fastens the watch onto your wrist. You’re standing so close that all you can do is pray that he doesn’t notice the way that his fingers ghosting over your wrist makes your breath hitch in your throat. He’s unexpectedly gentle. You never would have imagined that his hands – which have wielded such unbridled violence, so you’ve heard – could be so soft.

“There,” he says when he’s done. He smiles as you turn your wrist, admiring the gift. “It’s beautiful. Silver suites you.”

Anything that you might have hoped to say, even a thank you, gets lost in the haze of his unexpected words. How can this man who stands before you be the same one who mowed down POWs in cold blood, or who shot his own sergeant? And why is he showing such kindness to you?

Finally, you manage to clear your throat. “Thank you, Captain Speirs. You’re very kind.”

He nods, smiling in a way that you’ve never seen before. He turns to go, but you step forward to stop him.

It’s strange, the way that things have of unexpectedly falling into place while we watch on, helpless to stop our own actions. Yet something about this Speirs is so . . . different from everything you’ve heard.

But not what you’ve seen, you think, remembering the conversation you caught him having with Doc Roe. Maybe you should find out more about this version of Speirs before he slips away.

“Captain,” you say with a pounding heart. “I was just about to go find something to eat. I was wondering . . . I was wondering if you might like to join me?”

Speirs’ smile grows. “I would like that very much.”

Before either of you can change your mind, you begin walking down the Austrian streets together. You’ve been with Easy Company for a while now and have grown close with most of the men. It’s high time that you got to know your Captain; the real version of him – not the one that everyone else introduced you to.

“So,” you begin. “Where are you from?”

#ron speirs x reader #ron speirs #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #hbo war fanfic #hbo war #my writing

[dearmahiru]

TW: discussions of suicide and hanging

Just had a terrible realization.

There's this wonderful theory that prisoners only have half of their memories involving their crime and you need to use their other pairing to understand the full story. I'd link it but unfortunately the creator deactivated. Everyday I mourn not archiving it because it was amazing.

They only explained how it related to Fuuta and Mu but I was thinking about what it meant for Shidou and Mahiru. After thinking about it, a horrible question hit me: Did Mahiru intend to commit a lover's suicide with her boyfriend?

IT SOUNDS CRAZY and I don't think I necessarily believe it because it'd make her crime way too sympathetic, right? Like, unless she was a terrible person no one would guilty her! But like... it's there and it's not leaving my mind.

Ofcourse, what I'm proposing is that Shidou and Mahiru intended to die to be with their loved ones but Mahiru was stripped of her memory. Both pairings would have to share the same memory, afterall. This means I'd have to convince you Shidou wants to die—

—Which is distressingly easy to prove. First thing out of his mouth upon meeting Es. Massive focal point about his character, harder to miss it honestly.

As for Mahiru, you know how her crime took place in Aokigahara, the suicide forest?

I explained it in this post but it's likely Mahiru's crime was indirect to parallel Shidou who directly killed his victims. Along with the imagery of Mahiru wrapping his hands around her victim's neck and their shoe falling off, I think it's likely he died by hanging. Initially, I thought he died while Mahiru was at home cooking dinner, hence her horrified expression towards the end.

Few things we'll need to establish. When Mahiru's boyfriend dies it's on Day 16. I'm assuming this because why else would she wear the birdcage outfit and look horrified at the end? Then, there's also this shot in Undercover where Mahiru's hands are laying ontop of her victim. I think this must be in Aokigahara because no other entry before this takes place in a forest. The closest is the outdoor cinema in Day 13 but, and I checked, the cuffs are different. Instead, Mahiru's birdcage outfit matches up the best.

Obviously, the cuffs between the two jackets are different so they belong to different people. Mahiru must have went with her boyfriend to Aokigahara.

However, like I did, you might be thinking, "Oh but Mahiru doesn't have the motive to go. She isn't suicidal." To which I say:

The fact she laughs after saying the first few lines as if that's a teehee :3c thing to say. This isn't funny Mahiru. I'm distressed over your mental health.

Bringing up the shoes again, there is a scene where Mahiru takes her shoes off. Specifically, when she's calling her boyfriend and then when she dives headfirst into the feathers.

Initially, I had brushed off this off but it's a weird detail to include, right? Noticably, the shoes only come off when she's unhappy in her relationship: slamming the phone down after arguing with her boyfriend and then staring wistfully outside of the birdcage. They're on again after she wakes up from her nap, and her boyfriend has already died. Even if it doesn't necessarily mean she's suicidal, it's still linked to her unhappiness.

Adding onto this, there's these lyrics from This Is How To Be Inlove With You:

"We fought sometimes, I was happy to get hurt Let's have matching pain, this sickness is pretty bad."

"This is a claim of responsibility From the two of us with matching love Wanting to know everything about you, but wanting to die because it can't come true It's all because of love."

These lines are sung over Days 9-12 after Mahiru confesses and starts dating her boyfriend. Along with the lines about matching pain, it's when she takes off her shoes, so she's really not happy in this relationship. Over the course of this relationship I think they're both having a negative impact on eachother's mental health. Mahiru is consistently taking up her boyfriend's time (waking up him up in the morning to call, begging him to take her out on dates, etc) and then potentially manipulating/guilt-tripping him. For Mahiru, she's putting a large amount of effort into being a good girlfriend and not receiving anything in return. Not once does Mahiru ever mention something her boyfriend has does for her, and she's very easy to please.

Despite how cute it's portrayed in her MV, atleast one of their fights got nasty. In the 2nd trial teaser, Mahiru screams "Don't say you love me so easily!" Which is likely directly at her boyfriend. Concerning implications since this is only voiceline where she says anything like this. Her first MV, first voice trailer, and second voice trailer are all saying she loves this guy but she's screaming at him to not tell her the same? Despite being in the chorus of This Is How To Be Inlove With Love You's lyrics? A fuck-up has occurred here.

I should also note, Mahiru has only expressed anger towards her boyfriend. Kotoko threw her on death's door and Es, accidentally, put her in that situation and she still loves them both. At most Mahiru's upset with Es but it's only empty sadness. Seriously, what could her boyfriend have done that's worse than literally attempting to kill her?

Now, I tried to write to all of off by saying Mahiru would've remembered if she tried to commit a lover's suicide and there'd be more hints. However, if you remember the beginning of this post, if Mahiru had her memory erased then she doesn't know how her boyfriend died.

I think this is most apparent in her interrogation answers and voice drama. Mahiru always refers to her lover in present tense, saying things like "I've never smoked before, but I might copy him if who I love smokes." There's also the way she speaks about her crime, she "supposes" she killed her boyfriend. There's several reasons why she'd act this way but I'd say this aligns with her having a fuzzy memory.

(Also pretty suspicious for Milgram to ask her "Are there people you’d be leaving behind after you die?" Why would we, the audience, need to know that.)

Ofcourse, this theory isn't perfect! You could come up with all sorts of reasons why x evidence actual something else entirely different. I'm not convinced of it entirely myself but I think it does make sense? I Love You can't come soon enough to confirm everything.

#Wasn't sure how to end this post or if my evidence is conclusive enough but! It makes sense to me! #I'd feel more confident presenting it if I could actually provide the memory loss theory #But all the images i could find are terrible quality. Someone else mightve archived it and could share it but thats only a dream #milgram #mahiru shiina #milgram theory #<- first time ever tagging that and it's weird. im not a theorist i just really like this mahiru #tw suicide #tw hanging #꒰ 🕊 ꒱ ── cinnamon lead astray

[joeys-piano]

Words Tag

Tagged by @backwardshirt to search through my WIPs for the following words so I can share a snippet that contains that word. It sounds complicated, but I think I can follow: light, ache, sick, blue, and tremble.

Tagging for funsies, but know you don't have to do this: @coffeeandcalligraphy, @thechaoscryptid, @silencedfalcon, @fragrant-stars, and you - you wonderful reader, you dastardly reader you!

Really the only thing of note as I'm going through this is that I've had my fingers in different writing pots. Your words are: eye, mouth, hand, foot, stomach.

LIGHT | I have "slightest" sir! Yes, I'm cheating. I'd be here a long time otherwise. This is from a Ouran High Host club WIP where I was greatly inspired by xxxHolic for a hot week.

The Suoh clan’s matriarch wields the fourth fan of the tengus: the slightest shift between the leaves could summon hailstorms as well as break them, a resounding snap on any rib blows a mountain into the trees. She won it firstly in a duel, the second time to the death, the third attempt against her claim stripped a rival to only his name. Burning incense washed Akita for a hundred days for forgiveness. Then on the Year of the Dog (‘94) her only son gained inheritance.

ACHE | I have "aching" sir! This is from my Solo Leveling WIP, where I turn the RPG system into a horror thing.

But maybe he’s lying, part of him thinks. Not of his shoe size, but the pain. Maybe he’s numb to it—he is a hunter. He’s been poisoned, slashed, and burned. He’s had his ankles blown with fire magic, and his Achilles shred to ribbons. He’s known the eggshell, pasty color of every bone joint in his feet, by the courtesy of a dungeon slime and its acidic want for flesh. And every incident leaves him behind until he’s whole again with a bit of mana. Maybe he’s fucked then. Maybe he’s aching. But it’s only real to him if he believes it.

SICK | I've looked through 10+ projects and did not find a single instance where I've used "sick" in my writing. So you win this round sir!

BLUE | From a Blue Eye Samurai WIP that has very lush scene descriptions.

 “Float in the water, why don’t you. I’m sure the gods will find their mercy.” “That’s just bubbles on the water. But murder,”—a flash of blue—“is a riptide. Will you swim?” “Who’s to judge?” “Sui-ō.”

TREMBLE | I have a "tremors" sir! This is from a Link Click WIP that I wrote right after watching both seasons. I was emotionally messed up.

He sighs. He screams. He thrashes—on all fours. He tremors. He quakes. He plunges—to the floor. He’s a single flag above a graveyard. He’s hollow ground metres deep. He’s a casket set to burn. And he is incense—wafting. Of names. And houses. A school yard that doesn’t exist. A bike trail he still remembers inside a breath he mustn’t take. But he does—oh, he breathes. He is a fire on its knees, windswept and tenacious and a billowing thing of smoke. As if he’s ravaging on a hillside, nothing stops him when he breathes. And nothing tries to, either. Nothing lives here for the harvest.

#joey speaks #tagged #tag game #writeblr #writing community

[lavenoon]

Okokok hi!

How would the boys (Eclipse included) feel about s/o 'borrowing' a a piece of clothing (like a shirt) or accessories to wear and/or making an effort to match his outfits?

Alright lets go! I'll default to "shirt" in the scenarios but the sentiment applies to basically everything lmao

Sun: Stealing his shirt to wear it out in public: For the sake of whatever is getting you out in public, lets assume he doesn't see it until you already are out and about, because otherwise, y'all would be late. He'll still fuss a little, just for show - what else is going to give him the excuse to lean down and purr a low little "darling, you could have just asked" if not the fact that your collar absolutely needs to be fixed right now? Frankly, wearing his shirt is an ego boost he doesn't need - or absolutely does. Superficially, he'll be the worst peacock about it, because there you are - wearing his shirt in his colors while out with him, immediately showing everyone you meet that you're with him. But deep down, Sun is anxiety galore, and he lives for the reassurance that you chose this, that you like where your relationship is going, and that this is what you want. He'll love to indulge, not to worry <3

Which is to say. If you so much as breathe that you wanted to match him? Good fucking luck. This man is going to be barely contained glee at the prospect of getting to coordinate outfits with you - what kind of power couple you'd be! And to think that you might even want to add to your wardrobe just to have something that would match something of his? Goodbye, he's ascended, and then returned with a vengeance because he has to treat you now, as much as he can - do you want a whole matching dress/ suit? would you want just one article to match - perhaps a jacket, or shirt, or a scarf the color of his tie? Or the more subtle claim - cuff links and collar pins and necklaces, he's all for it, and you'll have one hell of a time trying to get him to be calm about it. Have fun!

Moon: Stealing his shirt to wear it out in public: Whelp, there goes Moon! Gets about halfway through a tease before the reality of the situation hits him and he just crumbles into a flustered mess. He'd love to be smug and tease you about raiding his closet for a shirt - he usually opts for basic t-shirts in solid colors, so it's not even that special. But it's his and you chose it specifically, and now you're wearing it and once you're done wearing it it'll end up in his closet again and then he'll wear the shirt you wore and - best to not continue, he's already about to combust. Already prefers not being the one handling public stuff, so he'll let you take the lead and just turns into your backpack on legs to occasionally hide his face under the pretense of giving you a nice little head nuzzle, and some very quiet mumbles of "the color suits you, you should wear it more often" <3

Now, if you went and told him you'd want to match him, specifically? Man's just bluescreening for a second there, whoops. A fumbling mess and definitely the most low key about matching among these three, because he gets flustered to hell and back at the thought of attracting that kinda attention. He loves the sentiment, don't get him wrong! But if you keep it to at home/ the neighborhood, his processors will thank you for not overheating. However, once you express that said sentiment? He'll start just putting his nightcap on you, with more or less vague excuses or deflecting compliments of "you look cute" depending on his daily shyness level. And sorry, did the temperature just dip? No? Too bad, he's already stripping out of his jacket (while stealing a glance if you're looking) and draping it around you, because "you looked cold" - cuddle him some more, because he's currently heating up from fluster, and it'll be win win!

Eclipse: Stealing his shirt to wear it out in public: Oh my god, you've killed him to death. His casual clothes are often very baggy, and he already has to buy larger stuff to cover his entire torso. Honestly, his reaction is twofold - on the one hand, he's just melting and cooing over you, just so absolutely in love and just an excited mess that you'd want to wear his clothes. On the other hand, he's very interested in what you do with the extra sleeves. For a long sleeved shirt, they'd probably tie around nicely like a waist belt? For that extra ~pizzazz~ - or tuck them into a high-waisted skirt or pants (skirts you can also steal from his closet. I wouldn't recommend the pants). As always, very touchy about it, looking with his eyes isn't enough! Propriety be damned, you better be somewhere where cuddling is possible because that's what he wants to do, and now <3

And if you as much as insinuate that the purpose was to match him? This guy is the king of cheese and proud, and he'll wear all the embarrassing couple's stuff with you - he'll love couple's shirts (both just, normal shirts but you each get one of the same, or the "if lost return to [x]" "I'm [x]" type of stuff), he'll love matching accessories (of which he already has many, and is happy to share - all except his sun and moon eclipse necklace), key chains, anything! He loves the idea of matching, and a non-negligible part of him basks in that validation that you want to be seen with him, associated with him, and want to broadcast that to people even more than just going out with him! You aren't ashamed to love him so openly, and as someone who might get a bit self conscious if he's the only one being openly affectionate and cheesy, it's balm to his soul and he'll love to go all out!

#answer let luce #lulu-lullabies #accidentally undercover #lmao sun and eclipse just over there; excited #and then there's moon hiding his face and making some muffled fluster noises #all of them want pictures btw #yes they technically have photographic memory but they still want pictures #maybe a whole album full #something to go through *together* #just below 1K have a little snack <3

[icyxmischief]

Been following you for over a decade, but I'm afraid I have to unfollow after that Zionist reblog. Please educate yourself on the history of Palestinian oppression and the reality of Israel being an apartheid, settler state with the blood of millions on its hands.

I respect your decision. I think that you should always curate your dash to be what you are comfortable with, and what your moral alignment is.

I also think the best way for me to respond to this message is minimally: with just the simplest of clarification of what I have learned and am acting upon.

I support Jewish communities across the world. I support recognizing that Jews who are upset by Hamas terrorism and who claim PART of the disputed land in question are not Islamophobic. I support remembering the impact of the Holocaust on the (shockingly small) worldwide Jewish community, and its role in strong emotions about the Holy Land. I support that Muslims who are upset by Israeli military bombings are not antisemitic. I support Muslim communities across the world. I support a cease-fire in Gaza and the restoration of its food, water, and resources. I support Palestinian independence.

I do not support an apartheid state. I do not support the current Israeli Prime Minister or his military. Nor do I support Hamas, or any form of terrorism. Mostly, I do not support the rise of black and white thinking around this issue, or any form of antisemitism or Islamophobia.

You are still welcome to think what you like about me, because no matter how long you have followed me, we don't know each other, and you do not owe me belief in what I say. Honestly, I am at peace with that, and the fact that you have probably already unfollowed me, and won't see this.

---------------

Ultimately, one of the most important parts about being an activist--and one I am only learning as I enter my forties--is that you must allow fellow activists to misunderstand you, in order to do what you think is right. This means that there will be partings of ways, which, while hard, is okay. What I think is right, and what I will stand by, requires an admission of complexity--which is not the same thing as saying "both sides are equally bad"--and a realization that social-media-based social justice cannot always accommodate that necessity. I believe this encounter is a prime example.

I am learning a lot of things. Feel free to walk through these thoughts with me, or to keep scrolling to the bottom, where important links are posted.

A) I have learned that: it's important to support Palestinians who are being murdered (including, in Gaza, mostly children) in ways that violate international human rights (access to food, water, electricity, internet and medicine), that are, indeed, genocidal. This means monetary donations. It means taking and teaching courses on the long history of this region of the world. It means rallying to free the Gaza Strip from Israeli occupation. It means protesting the nconscionable acts of the current Israeli governmment and military. It means asking our national leaders to stop supporting the Israeli government.

B) And I also have learned that: Hamas is unconscionably evil, and must be stopped from further kidnapping, m*tilating, r*ping and m*rdering Israeli families (inluding, again, children), who are no more in charge of the Israeli government than Palestinians are in charge of Hamas.

C) And I also have learned that: many Jews believe Israel should not exist because the Torah forbids a central sovereignty "run by a people in exile"; many other Jews believe that it should and that they have ethnic, cultural, and religious roots in the region. The way that they acquired the "nation" of Israel is still deeply problematic. Most importantly, we must continue to protest the human rights violations being committed by the Israeli government. Bombing and starving unarmed civilians will not root out Hamas; it will only radicalize more people to its numbers. But "Israel = Jewish support" is an over-simplification.

D) And I also have learned that: Hamas does not even remotely represent anything ethno-religiously Islamic, nor Palesininian. There are also Palestinian Jews (and Christians, etc). "Palestine = Muslims" is another dangerous and misleading over-simplification.

E) And I also have learned that: both Islamophobia and Anti-Semitism are on the rise, often under the guise of "activism" and/or "anti-colonialism." This is one reason that Pro-Palestinian Jews in America are protesting under the moving rallying cry, "NOT IN MY NAME." There are still ill-informed people who are running up to American citizens who are wearing Stars of David and screaming, "FREE PALESTINE," as if any Palestinian would want you to persecute someone in a far-off country who happens to be Jewish (or any Jew, for that matter). There are Jewish civilians being assaulted in the doorways of their own homes. There are ALSO mosques being bombed and Muslims being assaulted, having their hijabs ripped off, being treated like terrorists, since 9/11/2001 (and earlier). This is why the way we talk about and look at these issues matters. I teach graduate-level courses in the way that propaganda takes root in societies and leads to these unimaginable tragedies (not a flex of credentials, just saying I'm hyper-aware of these issues thru professional exposure). I just can't uphold any overly-simplified or singular point-of-view, because that is the mentality that gives rise to these unthinkable acts.

F) Nothing is more important than de-centering ourselves and our own (we may often think) virtuous rage. My point--and I truly don't mean this unkindly--is that It doesn't really matter if you follow my Marvel roleplay blog or not. It doesn't matter if you approve of or like me or not. It matters that I (we?) continue to listen and learn about the thousands of people literally dying. For this reason, even though I think you have misread my intentions, I am GRATEFUL that you called me out, so that I can check my sources more closely. But demonizing an entire social group (shy of genocidal governments or genocidal terrorist cells) always lands a person on the wrong side of history. I do not want to use my privilege to do that.

You may be wondering why I reblogged an Israeli Government vs Hamas post to a Loki rp blog in the first place. I have pushing 3,000 followers, which isn't a lot, but is enough to make ripples, so I want to pass along carefully checked educational posts (and donation links) from people who are directly involved in this heartbreaking war. These will always be tagged #World News CW.

If you've read this far, thanks for walking with me. <3 I sincerely appreciate it. This is still not a geo-politics blog, and I am not expert enough to entertain numerous messages about the issue. Thanks for understanding.

-------------

While I have your attention, 3 weeks ago, I contacted my local International Faith Center and asked them for the most reliable place to donate money directly to on-the-ground humanitarian relief for children in Gaza. Here it is. There is also Doctors Without Borders and UNICEF. Please spend some of your time, energy, and resources here. Thanks.

#ooc #Anonymous #World News cw

[magnetothemagnificent]

Hi there, since you said sending questions is ok, I saw on a post of yours (I am on mobile and don't have the link handy, but I can get it if needed) and I was just wondering why you brought up how the term is "antisemitism", not "anti-semitism", would you be willing to explain that distinction? Is it just a grammatical distinction? Very sorry if I'm missing something obvious, I just hadn't encountered that before.

Basically, the word "Antisemitismus" was first coined in 1879 by German antisemites as a more palatable alternative to "Judenhass", which means "Jew-hatred". At this point in time, scientific racism was really gaining traction, and "Antisemitismus" was coined to emphasize the fact that "Jew-hatred" wasn't just about religion, it was about "science" and "race". According to scientific races, there were three main races, white European, black African, and Asian. Jews were seen as racial 'mutts', in that they were seen as a 'mix' of African and Asian, which was seen as "unnatural" according to scientific racism.

"Antisemitism" in itself isn't the best term, because it was made to make Jew-hatred sound more "logical". However, since it's the widely used term, if you do use, you need to spell it right. It's one word because there's no "semites".

I've seen people claim that antisemitism isn't just about Jews, that it's about all SWANA people, claiming all SWANA people are "semites" and therefore Jews shouldn't "gatekeep" antisemitism. Which is of course wrong and there are not "semites", and if there were, only Jews would be "semites" because "antisemitism" only applies to Jews. To claim otherwise is to deny antisemitism and to deny Jews our voices.

That's why it's spelled "antisemitism" and not "anti-semitism". Because the original word was "antisemitism", and because there's no such thing as "semitism", and implying that there is is actively denying Jews.

Here is the 2015 IHRA statement on the matter:

Memo on Spelling of Antisemitism IHRA Committee on Antisemitism and Holocaust Denial April 2015

With this memo, the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) would like to address the spelling of the term antisemitism, often rendered as ‘anti-Semitism’ and Microsoft’s auto-correct feature. IHRA’s concern is that the hyphenated spelling allows for the possibility of something called ‘Semitism’, which not only legitimizes a form of pseudo- scientific racial classification that was thoroughly discredited by association with Nazi ideology, but also divides the term, stripping it from its meaning of opposition and hatred toward Jews.

The philological term ‘Semitic’ referred to a family of languages originating in the Middle East whose descendant languages today are spoken by millions of people mostly across Western Asia and North Africa. Following this semantic logic, the conjunction of the prefix ‘anti’ with ‘Semitism’ indicates antisemitism as referring to all people who speak Semitic languages or to all those classified as ‘Semites’. The term has, however, since its inception referred to prejudice against Jews alone.

In the mid-nineteenth century, the derived construct ‘Semite’ provided a category to classify humans based on racialist pseudo-science. At the same time the neologism ‘antisemitism’, coined by German journalist Wilhelm Marr in 1879 to designate anti-Jewish campaigns, was spread through use by antiJewish political movements and the general public. The modern term gained popularity in Germany and Europe incorporating traditional Christian anti-Judaism, political, social and economic anti-Jewish manifestations that arose during the Enlightenment in Europe, and a pseudo-scientific racial theory that culminated in Nazi ideology in the twentieth century. Although the historically new word only came into common usage in the nineteenth century, the term antisemitism is today used to describe and analyze past and present forms of opposition or hatred towards Jews. In German, French, Spanish and many other languages, the term was never hyphenated.

The unhyphenated spelling is favored by many scholars and institutions in order to dispel the idea that there is an entity ‘Semitism’ which ‘anti-Semitism’ opposes. Antisemitism should be read as a unified term so that the meaning of the generic term for modern Jew-hatred is clear. At a time of increased violence and rhetoric aimed towards Jews, it is urgent that there is clarity and no room for confusion or obfuscation when dealing with antisemitism.

Given that most communication today is electronic, and that Microsoft is a giant in that field, the Committee on Antisemitism and Holocaust Denial is concerned that Microsoft's default spelling in English is ‘anti-Semitism’. Thus the Committee strongly recommends changing the default spelling of antisemitism so that it does not autocorrect to the hyphenated version of the word.

The International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) is an intergovernmental body whose purpose is to place political and social leaders’ support behind the need for Holocaust education, remembrance and research both nationally and internationally. IHRA’s Committee on Antisemitism and Holocaust Denial was created to address the upsurge in antisemitism and Holocaust denial and trivialization. With this memo, IHRA expresses its concern over possible confusion of a clear understanding of the word ‘antisemitism’.

#jumblr #antisemitism #language is important #history #ihra #holocaust #holocaust denial

[santaresistencia]

I'm so confused. I'm not sure what is true anymore!

When I tried talking to a close relative of mine about Palestine, they started going on a huge spiel. They insisted it wasn't genocide, that they voted for Hamas and that Isr*el warned them and gave them time to go south before the bombings happened, that Palestine struck first, and that Isr*el had given them their land.

When I asked them for proof, they dodged the question, claimed they've been in the loop for a very long time (they're nearing their sixties), and said something about the quran.

I don't know what to do and I'm so torn!

warning: this post has a plethora of links (everything underlined) i encourage you and anyone reading to click through them and learn more.

hi lovely sorry it took me so long to respond. i understand why you're confused right now - there's currently a huge, censorship, disinformation campaign being waged by isr*el (and backed and supported by the united states) to keep people confused about what's going on right now. and sadly if you (like me) grew up in the united states/the west very little is taught about palestine and we are steeped in propaganda from the very moment we can talk. it is a failure of the system, and ourselves, and done purposefully to keep us ignorant about an evil from which we directly contribute and benefit.

and if you simply went by what western leaders and cable news are reporting right now you would be vastly misinformed about the true horror being waged and why it is being waged. social media is a powerful tool and is being weaponized by isr*el to fight a proxy war. (a war which they are losing with certain demographics, if the sheer number of us awakening right now and by your very question is evident).

many people are trying to push a narrative of this being a very complicated issue so they can remain "neutral" and i'm here to tell you it isn't - what it comes down to is that isr*el is illegally occupying palestine (which they've been doing for almost 75 years) and are currently waging a genocide against the palestinian people, who throughout the last decades have been forced to live under an apartheid state in both gaza and the west bank - areas which are really just ghettos controlled by their colonizer - isr*el.

i will note here - this is a very basic fact that many are unaware of, to our shame, but gaza is not a country, it is a strip of land under the occupation and total control of isr*el. (to even justify calling this a "war" is unfair in the extreme - wars are fought by more or less equal powers with a standing army of their own - gaza does not have it's own army. the current aggression taking place is david and goliath-levels unequal). more basic facts/questions that we are too afraid to ask covered here and here.

gaza especially is recognized (the united nations included) as the world's "largest open-air prison." palestinians cannot freely travel without the permission of isr*el (on their own land!), and everything - food, electricity, water, incoming supplies, everything - is controlled by isr*el and subject to their whims. they are under constant surveillance and overly policed, killed daily by both the state and isr*eli settlers stealing palestinian land, and thousands of them are held illegally without trial indefinitely by isr*el. (does this sound familiar to you? it should because most of america's police force is trained by the IDF).

and while hamas did attack isr*eli civilians, the attack did not occur in a vacuum and the response to that attack has been very, very, very, very, disproportionate - it is collective punishment against a civilian population and a war crime.

the oct 7th attacks are being used as an excuse to carry out isr*el's dream/ultimate goal of cleansing palestinians off their own land so they can claim it as their own.

but to address the specific claims made by your relative - yes the ongoing isr*eli occupation's aggression is genocide (and has been acknowledged as such by experts in holocaust history, human rights groups, and quite openly by isr*el itself). while hamas did "strike first" they did so in response to the many human rights abuses, systematic oppression, and colonial violence that the palestinian people have been undergoing for close to a century. an oppressed people pushed to the edge of survival and left with no other choice will be forced to use any means necessary to resist their oppressors.

the demonization and dehumanization of hamas is used to paint palestinian resistance as "terrorism" in order to justify wiping a whole group of people (2.3 million) off the face of the earth. civilians - men, woman, and children are not "terrorists" and their slaughter is not and will never be justified.

the claim that isr*el is giving them "warning" and "time" to evacuate before bombing is laughable - where are they supposed to go? they've closed down the borders - no one can get in or out of gaza. they have specifically targeted civilian infrastructure such as hospitals, churches, and residential homes which have been serving as shelter to civilians. they told them to evacuate the north of gaza and into the south (which is impossible when you think of over a million people being given 24 hours to evacuate their homes), and then continue to bomb the south and north anyway. they are also carrying out violence and aggression in the west bank which is not controlled by hamas and so their excuses are simply that, excuses.

no their goal is not to get rid of hamas, their goal is the complete and utter annihilation of gaza and the palestinian people. (which they will not succeed in doing, palestine will be free, whether in this life or the next).

and the idea that isr*el gave palestinians their land? it's their land! isr*el stole their land, violently displaced (such a soft word for such a violent act) over 750,000 people (which has created a diaspora of six million palestinian refugees), forced the remaining into gaza and the west bank, has been subjecting them to a slow suffocating death for decades, and now openly slaughters them by the thousands.

the mention of the Quran specifically by your relative is thinly veiled islamophobia (which is rampant in the west and in the united states in particular). this is not a religious war. and the fact that a majority of palestinians are muslims (though christian palestinians do exist) is being used to paint a whole people as "terrorists" and encourages the dehumanization of palestinian people.

this is why the many many videos and images of dead palestinian babies, men, and woman mean nothing to certain people - palestinians (and frankly brown/black ppl) are not seen as fully human and equally worthy of life. their lives and their deaths weigh less in certain ppl's minds (just compare the global support ukraine received when it was invaded by russia to the indifference that palestine is currently receiving).

to some and (your relative) the horrific slaughter by the literal thousands is justifiable - an "unhappy but inevitable consequence of war." this is not war, this is genocide. these are not battles being fought, these are blatant war crimes being carried out by isr*el who have been given carte blanche by the united states and other western powers to do as they wish.

tbh there are many others on here that can explain better and their masterposts and blogs are valuable resources available here, here, and here. and i recommend these tiktok users here, here, and here. i also recommend the decolonizepalestine.com website as it is highly informative.

and for keeping up with current news in gaza that is not blatant propaganda i recommend al jazeera - which has been doing some of the most comprehensive and amazing journalism i've ever seen. (seriously they are putting their very lives on the line, as several of their reporters have been assassinated by isr*el).

it is a tragedy that we have been kept largely ignorant of a struggle that has been happening right under our noses for years, supported by our own money and aid, and which we directly benefit from. but now that we know the extent of the horror it is our duty to educate ourselves, to reach out and educate others, to uplift palestinian voices, and to do everything we possibly can to help. to do otherwise is a failure of our very own humanity.

#falesteen 🇵🇸 #free gaza #gaza strip #heads up if zionists interact with this you automatically get blocked #in the same way i do not waste my breath arguing with nazis i do not argue with zionists #look deep into your heart and find god #the rest of you asking further questions i will try my best to help and refer you to the best sources #saint rambles #masterpost

[brightgreendandelions]

inspired by this post

transcript undercut!

gen z come here come here! because this organization that's claiming to represent you, is heading to DC next monday to lobby for the kids online safety bill. an act that they have been told to their face, multiple times for over a year, that will be mass censorship for the entire internet. will lead to you being forced to upload your government ID online to access the entire internet. will force everybody's parents to see they're doing on their phones, so you live in a horrible situation, or you're gay and you haven't come out yet, or you're scarred to. too bad! because this organization claims it's actually good for you, is actually going to protect you! so this is what we're going to do.

you're going to do three things. you're going to go [https://linktr.ee/omarsbigsister] here you're going to sign the petitions i have. i have more right here.

the second thing you are going to do, is you are going to call one of the most influential senators, who can stop this! this is her number [presumably +1 as US phone code] [[phone]]. you're going to tell her as a minor, as a member of gen z, you do not want this bill. i'm going to post a little strip that you can read off of when calling her. you can actually just use bad internet bills and put in here phone number, and it will automatically connect you to your members of congress and then her. this is the script [it's also in the link tree]. this is another script is a little bit more comprehensive and you can actually see the full text of this under the callscript and resources that i showed earlier.

than you are going to call the committee that overseeing this bill, that she is a leader on right here [202-224-0411]. and you're going to tell them the same things. then you are going to call this number [(202)-224-6542], which is the leader of the whole senate and you're going to tell him the same exact things.

the third thing i want you to do is to want you to talk publicly about how terrible this bill is. because again it's a mass censorship bill. if you want to know more about it i have a whole playlist on my page. i want you to tag big accounts in the stiff you make, maybe in the stuff i make. because they have to know that, if this bill passes, there stuff will be censored too. because everything that the far right does not like will be attacked and censored.

anybody who's been stressed about what's going on with the supreme court, with climate change, with all these shootings [the tiktok has that bit censored as "$h0*tighs" haha] going around, and feel like they don't have anything to do to make the word a better place, this is something you can do! this is something that you can actually influence because, if we lose the internet, if we will or mode of communication, we lose everything!!

#textpost #tiktok reupload #so you guys don't have to expose yourself to it #repost #kosa bill #tiktok #some questionable information tbh #call to action #us politics

[wildroombas]

in the timespan between october 7 and today, january 6, israeli forces have committed the equivalent of october 7 eighteen times over, a third of these deaths being children.

is this ok?

No, it's not.

However, many of Hamas's casualties are reported as civilians because they're not wearing uniforms for obvious reasons (linked - combat footage on r/Palestine, an obviously biased subreddit, as the first search result to "hamas gopro").

Some of the children reported KIA may be militants under 18, seeing as Hamas trains child soldiers (linked - video on CBN's youtube from 2 years ago).

Reports are inflated or even falsified, like Hamas claimed over 400 people were killed in the al-Ahli explosion that was, apparently, a misfired rocket that barely inflicted any property damage (linked - HRW report). Don't forget that the single reporter of casualties in the strip is the Gazan ministry of health, which is part of Hamas.

There is a lot of propaganda coming from both sides, but especially the Palestinian side, since so many more people circulate anything they see, and because Hamas doesn't have to actually be accountable for anything it publishes. Don't take anything at face value. Be aware of the bias in where you get your news, and the bias in where they get their news - if a report links back to a one-sided source, be aware that it may not be true, even in a supposedly credible news outlet.

#hopefully this stays a civilised discussion :) #tw #war