#reblogs are encouraged

[onepiece-polls]

One Piece Shipping War

Welcome to this all out shipping war! Do you think your ship is the best? Let's put it to a vote!

First, some rules:

All characters in the ship must be from One Piece

No OC's, self insert, or crossover ships

Non-canon characters are allowed (meaning from anime fillers, movies, games, etc.)

All characters involved have to be humanoid. No concepts, objects, or full animals (fishmen/merfolk, minks, and Chopper are allowed)

The 5 most popular ships (on AO3) will not compete!* This means, no Zoro/Sanji, Law/Luffy, Marco/Ace, Zoro/Luffy, and Kid/Law.

Poly ships are welcome! (also if 2 of the 3+ are one of the big 5)

Only submit romantic and/or sexual ships. This is not about friendships, general fun dynamics, or actual boats.

Submit a ship only once! (if I suspect voter fraud, that ship might be banned from the competition)

You can submit multiple ships, but use a new form for each ship.

Do not hate on other ships, just support your own.

Keep the pictures and propaganda SFW (as I want to keep the tournament SFW)

You are allowed to submit fanart for this tournament, as long as it's either your own or you've got permission from the artist. (Artist will be credited when their art is used, of course)

If you use manga spoilers in the propaganda, please announce them with a big 'SPOILERS AHEAD' before continueing.

*These ships are excluded to make the outcome a little more surprising, and give smaller ships a chance.

Ships with pictures included have a higher chance of making it into the tournament (as I don't have to look for pics myself).

Did you read all the rules? Okay, then go submit your favorite ship(s)!

I'm aiming for 32 ships to start the tournament with, but if I get a lot of different ships which have multiple submissions, I might extend it to 64 (if I have the energy for that). If I barely get any submissions, I will start with 16.

Submissions will be open until 12 July, 8PM CET, unless I don't get any new submissions for 24 hours, in which case it will close early.

#one piece #tournament #submission form #op shipping war #that will be the tag to follow for this tournament #reblogs are encouraged #I hope you guys are not afraid to submit some obscure ships #I'd love to see them #also poly ships... poly ships are good

[dreamties]

dreams - amanda young x gn! reader

a/n- no triggers !!! basically just like. fluff and awkward mutual crushes. also written in like an hour with no edits so um !!!! plz enjoy this completely unplanned piece <33333

mentions of adam !!! word count: 823

amanda wakes in a startled mess, her anxiety sweat pooling at the dips in her skin and staining her shirt and sheets. she feels unbearably hot and claustrophobic.

she knows that unless she's running a fever (which she knows this feeling and it's not the traditional sick- it's a sickness in her head), there is no possible way for her to be warm right now. her apartment is old and she gets a discount on rent from how decrepit most amenities are.

so it's mid-october and her heater is busted- but she still feels hot and sick amidst the frigid air.

she heaves herself off the bed, leaving the sheets sticking to her skin behind. she sorts through a pile of semi-clean clothes. amanda would like to get a kickstart on her day- she knows, at this rate, she won't be able to fall asleep again.

she rinses her hair in the kitchen sink. spends a minute scrubbing at the subtly indented scars on her cheek.

she dresses in a hurry, though she has no place to go, no place urgent at least.

amanda walks six blocks to her favorite cafe, huddled in a jacket that no longer zips up.

no respectable shop should be open this early. or this late. from past experiences she knows it will be open though. the only shop aside from 24-hour markets and the occasional gas station open at this hour, in this neighborhood.

an annoying, zingy bell sounds as she enters and sits down at her favorite booth. the person working, y/n, has never bothered her about ordering something. they always let her watch or idly write on napkins or draw on her skin- anything to keep her from going back to her apartment.

y/n is not behind the counter right now. which is unusual. they usually do- well, amanda's not actually sure what they do. she hasn't been stalking them, after all, just observing. she has yet to figure out all the nitty gritty details of their job.

she recognizes, with a delighted and gentle smile, that they're decorating the interior for autumn. paper leaves strung together. doodles on the chalkboard menu. cutouts of pumpkins placed throughout the display boxes.

they hum to themselves as they work. amanda finds it soothing. she always does. because y/n always seems so endearingly lost in their own bubble- amanda feels something that sounds like envy but feels much softer.

she tracks her eyes with their movements, lulling her into a calm.

amanda does not mean to fall asleep. she is exhausted and the cafe is so warm and light compared to her residence. it's too easy when she does.

she doesn't fight back like she thinks she will. she recognizes she's dozing off too late for her mind to react.

it's the season-appropriate interior. the humming. a distinct beep from someone brewing coffee. increased foot traffic through the entryway. the dimmed yellow-y lights. the scent of perfectly spiced chai.

a clink of a ceramic mug on the tabletop stirs her. she doesn't feel ill this time, as she allows her body time to adjust before moving. before getting out of bed. she absently scratches the side of her neck.

"oh, geez," comes a whisper. "i didn't wake you, did i?"

amanda's eyes widen. she sits up more professionally, keeping her hands clasped in her lap.

"no," she replies. "it's fine."

y/n smiles at her. sparks flicker in amanda's heart- their expression feeling so personal and directional. they're not simply smiling; they are smiling at her. she feels close to melting- better than melting.

"good, good. i hope you like your drink, amanda."

they freeze. readjust their apron and looks at her concerned, embarrassed, too.

"it, um- it is amanda, right?"

she nods her head. the scene unfolding feeling so dreamlike. it's intoxicating.

"i- i see you in here all the time. i got your name from my coworker. that sounds-" they fluster. "his name is adam."

amanda lets herself react as y/n reacts. she chuckles. "yeah. he's- it's complicated."

they laugh. "oh, god, i bet! what isn't complicated with him?"

they're leaning against the headrest on the side of the booth opposite to her. it feels like friends reuniting. it's more than reconnection, whatever she is actually experiencing.

it's magical, though.

"oh, um-" they tap at their nametag, letters drawn with their own expertise. "y/n. i'm y/n. wait- shit, you've already known that."

amanda finds their humble fumbling endearing.

(y/n wants to say- "it's not every day i get to chat with my prettiest customer"- they feel too shy to even think of forming the letters in their mouth)

(amanda wants to tell them they have the sweetest voice she's ever heard. she thinks that might be overbearing and acts against her desires)

"we should- when you come back again, you should say hi to me before it gets busy."

#amanda young x reader #amanda young saw #saw franchise #amanda young x y/n #flufftober #but like... i just write fluff not following any prompts and prolly wont even write more this month lol #slashers x reader #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #amanda young x you #reblogs are appreciated #reblogs are encouraged

[xiuminscheeks]

this is a very serious poll

#poll #polls #pasta #reblogs are encouraged

[voloslobotomyservice]

we should be able to get some meat from the monsters we kill in bg3

#reblogs are encouraged #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[unionize-aromantically]

Actually can we make this an event? "#non english music 2024". Post music either just in your own language (assuming it's not English) or in multiple languages that you may or may not speak.

Including: genre (or similar). Song/album title, artist/band name.

Optionally a Spotify, YouTube, Bandcamp, Soundcloud or similar link. In addition to an explanation of what the song is about.

And of course you can add anything else you want, it's your post.

#ink.post #non English music 2024 #txt #reblogs are encouraged #non english #music

[myfriendgoo94]

Pre-hrt girls have flat screens, post-hrt girls have crts (Curvy Rockin’ Tits)

#this is very important #reblogs are encouraged

[religionsourcecode]

Some of you need to remove the mold from your house that makes you think sex is only valid when it’s penis(or strap) in vagina/ass.

What happened to accepting that gay and lesbian sex isn’t straight sex?

That sex can be so many things? Where is the acceptance for people who don’t like, want or maybe can’t preform penetration (either receiving or giving)?

Gay sex can be so many things and that’s beautiful, but I see too many people focused on the heterosexual idea of what sex is, and acting like sex that doesn’t involve something going into someone’s hole is not sex.

I’m tried of this narrative that gay sex is only valid if there’s some kind of penetration involved.

#lesbian #gay #lesbian nsft #gay nsft #t4t nsft #reblogs are encouraged

[kqrmen1]

im so upset rn

i keep seeing shit about other queer people SUPPORTING LAWS THAT BAN GENDER AFFIRMING CARE and it pisses me off so much.

we wouldnt have ANY QUEER RIGHTS without trans women of colour. yall remember stone wall?? you know, the breaking point that allowed queer rights to even be suggested in the US as human rights???

that was because of trans women of colour.

if you support terfs, block this account. if you believe that children cant understand that being forced to present a certain way makes them unhappy, block this account. if you truly believe that gender affirming care mutilates or destroys kids, BLOCK THIS ACCOUNT.

and for all my mutuals and followers who are not trans, support your trans/nonbinary/intersex friends and family. fight against these laws and bans being put into place. go to protests, email your senator, reblog and post about news involving these bans. do not be silent.

im sick and tired of the LGBTQ community forgetting where we came from.

#reblogs are encouraged #trans rights #trans #transwomen #transmen #trans men are men #trans women are women #nonbinary people are real and valid #dont forget that #and another thing #i saw a post recently about this lesbians against transwomen association #this is a tactic used by bigots to divide and conquer #the nazis used this early in their reign to trap and kill queer people #look up the story of Ernst Röhm for reference #once they get rid of trans rights theyll start coming for yours #theyve already started rolling in jim crow laws in mississippi

[happenstobehere]

hey just remembered the time i read a fic where a black character was described as being “pale tan” so here is your reminder as your resident black fic writer: if you don’t know how to properly discuss and describe people of color/black people, then don’t fucking write them. it is, quite literally, that simple.

most of the time there is no legitimate reason for you to describe the color of an existing character’s skin in fic. we have seen the characters. we know what they look like.

and this isn’t saying white people can’t write characters of color but just… don’t be dumb about it. there is absolutely no shame in getting someone to read over a fic for you. just don’t rely on poc to do labor - emotional or otherwise - for you for free. do your own research before writing characters you don’t share a background with.

and if you can’t get someone to read it before you post it and someone comments correcting you, fix it. it’s literally only making you look bad keeping lines like that in your fic, especially when there is a public comment telling you it’s wrong.

#reblogs are encouraged #also if you’re the person i’m talking about: be happy i chose not to name and shame #and instead put this up to give you a chance to fix your mistake. #you should be embarrassed that you didn’t fix it after someone commented correcting you #do better. #ryn's rambling #writing #writers #fic writing

[average-fo-enjoyer-moved]

2023 PROMO <3

♡ wolfie/james

♡ 15

♡ he/they/it/she

♡ likes: wolves, jim carrey, my f/os

♡ dislikes: pr*shipping, andrew tate

♡ main f/os: ace ventura, stanley ipkiss

♡ follows from @alrightythennn

#f/o community #selfship community #promo hour #reblogs are encouraged

[oodlekode]

Its kinda loud at the end!! fair warning.

Russell is a jerk 

#Transformers robots in disguise #rid2015 shitposts #fixit #bumblebee #russell clay #tf rid 2015 #please dont steal #reblogs are encouraged #i have too much free time sometimes #my edits

[dreamties]

CG! JD x Little! Reader W/ Sensory Issues

A/n- I related to this request a little too much and it just ended up as 3k of self-indulgence hurt/comfort. Hope everyone else can enjoy, as well!

Word Count: 3,138

T/W: some cursing, sensory overload / panic attacks, emotional hurt / repressed emotions, JD is referenced to have a gun in one scene but it's like. when he had it in the cafeteria and pretended to shoot Kurt & Ram like . . . that type beat, y'know?

This fic is seriously unedited <3

JD is willing to do just about . . . anything for his partner. Except, maybe, y’know- change his fundamentals as a person? And he’s generally pretty open about things, people, you name it. As long as you aren’t hurting anyone, who is he to stop you from a pastime that comforts you? 

He’s never heard of age regression before- in some regards, you still believe he may have never learned what coping mechanisms were either. And he certainly would never have pegged you as an individual that needed it. He knew of all the hurt you had gone through, of everything you tried to recover from. He guesses he never thought of how you planned to heal from it. Thinking maybe that he’d be enough to fix your broken bones.

He doesn’t ask you about it. Well, not for a while. JD prides himself in being so studious, in his curious, watchful nature. He always picked up the little bits and ends of people. And yet- he misses this. 

You’d been sneaking around him so easily, hiding the tenderest of your heart. He hates to think you hadn’t felt safe enough to let him know . . . but he thinks of the Heathers and Jocks of the world, and reconsiders. You must have been so scared. He can picture you alone and shaking in your room, after a long, painful week of school. He only wishes he’d moved sooner. He’d have come bounding into your life quicker, to be there for you, to protect you from brainless cruelty. 

Some bullshit, it was meant to be mantra loops his brain. He still wishes he had been there, every night. 

A few days after you tell him, he finally peaks his own curiosity and asks a question. Or, you don’t tell him either. Which also bugs him. But he finds out, because he doesn’t call to tell you he’s coming over or wait at the front door or even arrive at a normal time. He knocks on your bedroom window and stands outside waiting for you to let him in. You’d expressed distaste to him breaking in in the past. You don’t reply and he gets worried. And when he gets fed up and swiftly props the window up so he can climb in, he’s met with a pretty scary sight.

You’re lying on the floor, your side pressed against your flooring. You have one hand against your ear, you bite and suck on your other thumb. You hold a crumpled mess of blankets towards your chest, like they’re a fun, plush animal friend.

You don’t seem nearly as scared as he thought you might’ve been seeing him whilst in such a state. You’re just upset and overwhelmed, and you tell him as such when he’s knelt down beside you. You struggle with getting the right words, but he knows you’re struggling and he stays with you the whole night till you calm down. 

And, okay, you do answer his question(s). He has . . . a lot. He’s confused. He doesn’t understand what’s wrong, really. He knows you’re hurting, but doesn’t quite know that it’s not all fresh wounds you’re suffering from.

He first asks, “Why?”

Not in that manner. 

He waits till it’s the two of you, when you don’t seem too stressed, but still have that glossy, sad look he witnessed those few days before. The two of you are cuddling on your bed, you’re safely nestled between his legs and you contently play with the loose threads on his sleeves, as he holds you with one arm and caresses his hand through your hair. 

“Hey, why did you hide that part of yourself?”

You tilt your head to look at him. “Huh?”

JD’s light smile twitches. He can’t show his hurt so blatantly. “Oh, c’mon, Sid. You know what I’m talking about.”

They look back down to their activity, their hands moving through the fabric quicker. “I didn’t know how you’d react,” you mumble.

Jason does frown at this, and you can feel that as he presses a kiss to your head and nestles his cheek there.

“I love you, darlin’. It’s the two of us, against the world, remember?” 

“Yeah, but-”

JD cuts you off. He wouldn’t allow your self-doubting anxieties to get in the way. 

.

You don’t ask him to help out. But he knows you need it. 

Every time he notices your demeanor go towards that place; he knows something’s up. He figures this out half by observation, and the other was you coming from your shell, and telling him how you felt. 

He comes to know the first time he found you huddled on your bedroom floor, was due to a sensory overload meltdown. Nothing felt right that day, and you had hoped- so bad - that the icky feeling would dissipate with the night. You craved pressure and the lights in the hallway were too bright and you could still hear your mother brushing her teeth in the other room. You couldn’t turn the lights off and you couldn’t tell your mother- she’d freak out at you for being so sensitive. You could, though, press your body tightly against your floor and hold onto something, a barrier between angry, red skin and yourself. You could feel grounded on your bedroom floor. You could, maybe, even, sleep. 

.

He doesn't know how to feel that you need him. He’s thrilled. He wants nothing more than to be everything you desire. He worships you. He loves you. But you need help when you’re feeling so small? You need a hand, you need someone to give you the care you never received? He feels so lost. He never had the care you needed growing up. He doesn’t want to screw you up with backwards thinking. 

So, it takes time. He doesn’t feel completely comfortable with you regressing at first. But he always comes later on in the night to calm you down and help you sleep. 

One night, you’re curled up in his arms, and you scrunch his shirt up in your fists as you call out for him. “Papa, ‘eed you.” 

He looks down at you, and he combs his hand through your hair and you shake it off. The touch felt too light. “What’s wrong, darling?”

He peers at you and his stare, dark eyes boring into you, is unshakeable. 

“Need you,” you repeat. It’s clearer this time. 

He asks again. He suggests closing the window or getting a blanket and you don’t know how to respond. It’s so hard to form how you’re feeling into words. Everything is a little too much and it hurts. You’re so worried your boyfriend will judge you for what does come out. No matter how much he tells you he cares and tries to shush away your insecurities, they’re still there. 

“Jus’ hurs righ’ now. B-bad feeling.” 

He moves to leave your side and you only pull at him again. 

“Need. .hard no’ ligh’.”

He forces his face to stay neutral, as he works through the confusion. “Do you need pressure, is that it?”

You nod. 

“Okay, get up. With me.” 

You whine and he gives you a look and you go along with it. He peels your blankets back, and has you get under them. He sheds his jacket and pants, and makes sure you’re comfortable in your clothes, too. He lays back down next to you, bringing the sheets back up and over your bodies, tucking it in tight around the edges. He presses his body to yours when you still whine for pressure, safety. He hangs his arm over you and rests his body weight against you. He’s worried that he might hurt you. But the content purr as he finally does so, washes his worries away. 

You thank him again and again. Your papa was so perfect to you. 

.

A few months into all this, JD brings up helping ease you into your regression headspace. To help relieve your stress before it gets too much. He also brings up your sensory issues, as he noticed the two were often connected. He also tells you that the two of you don’t need to talk about all of it right now, but he needs to know how to be there for you. How to treat you. How to love you.

And you tell him you don’t know how to explain any of it. Certain sensations or inputs just . . . overwhelm you. Like the ticking of clocks or people brushing their teeth made you upset and angry. And you know to everyone else it feels irrational, but it’s such a big deal for you . 

Jason asks if the pressure has to do with your sensory issues, and you nod. You tell him how light touches can feel violating and more intense, how it feels like he’s not quite there. How you need his reassurance. And he says he understands and he gets it, or he at least tries to get it- and you smile, a full smile, of unbridled joy, at his response. 

“I love you, Papa!” You yell, excited. You squeeze him in a big hug, and he returns it.

He smiles, “Of course, babe.” 

.

There are some problems he notices this pose. 

He’d never blame you for feeling small or overwhelmed- or for how you reacted or dealt with that feeling. You were trying so hard and he was so very, very proud of you! 

But helping you at home, in your room, late at night- was no hassle. It was safe and secluded and no one but you and Him were there, could hear or know what was going on.

In school, it was different. You only had a few classes together. When the lights were too bright or the chatter in the classrooms too loud, it was much harder to get away from it, to self soothe. You couldn’t just walk out. 

You try to nap at your desk. Your hands discreetly covering your ears. One of your classmates bumps into your desk on the way back to her seat, not even a glance back or an apology. You bite your lip and hunch your shoulders up, weeping at your desk. Or, no, trying not to cry but failing horribly, miserably. 

JD is at the back of the classroom, he always is. It’s the best place to avoid unwanted eyes. He also loves it for the exact opposite reason, no one pays attention to the kids in the back. He can study his classmates without questions. He knows so many secrets he shouldn’t, because people never think he’s listening in. 

Sometimes he watches you, too. He loves seeing you frustrated, nibbling at the end of your pencil as you struggle with your assignment (he always “helps” you later with it- he isn’t much of a studier, though). He thinks you’re cute, especially when you don’t notice you’re being looked at. 

But he notices the negative interactions with your classmates, too. He’s never been one to keep a lid on his frustrations. 

He interjects, he calls her out for her shit.

“Did you want to apologize to someone?” He quirks a brow at the classmate. She looks bewildered and mumbles something under her breath.

Before she gets back to her seat, Jason gets up and takes great strides, rushing to your side. He pays no attention to the girl, as she steadies herself on some poor fool’s desk.

“Hey, watch where you’re going! You almost knocked me over, freak.” 

He thinks briefly on what any other student would do. Ignore it. Give some stupid retort back. 

He flashes her a grin, “That should be the least of your worries.” He opens up his jacket enough for her to see the handgun tucked away in the inside pocket.

Needless to say . . . she freaks out. And the teacher tells them, finally, to quiet down. It escalates, he gets sent home for the day. He’s not even worried or peeved about his end of the situation. He only has blanks in there, anyways. With the diversion he created, you could easily slink away from the classroom to a quieter space. Without all the suspicion gathered around it.

You don’t see JD again till after school passes. You know he’s at home. At his dad’s house. Knows that he probably got chewed out about his careless behavior. So obvious, so frivolous. No pizazz to his act. Nothing.

You know he’ll be upset. But he’ll act like nothing’s wrong. And it frustrates you. He always does so much for you. You could be an emotional anchor, too. Gosh darn, you could!

You hope it’s just him that’s making it difficult. 

That’s not right.

You hope that it’s not because of you, that Jason shuts himself off. You know that part of it’s that. That he didn’t grow up around parents who could be emotionally vulnerable with him. That he never had any close friends growing up. That, yeah, he had major trust issues.

Part of you worries that it’s more . That he feels cut off from you, that your issues overshadow his own. That he spends so much energy on you, that he has nothing left at the end of the day to give to you. He can’t splay his heart out on the table, because you are exhausting. 

And you have to shake off the feeling that you’re too much and you’re overthinking it. JD would let you know if he was upset with you, right? 

Thankfully, his dad isn’t home when you knock on the door. Usually you’d call him beforehand, to let him know you were coming over. You’d come to learn that despite his surprise visits at your place, JD was never thrilled about who could be at his door. Irrational fears? Maybe. His own guarded trauma? That you were certain of.  

He peeks through the peephole, unlocking the door and removing the latch at the top. He leans against the semi-open door. 

Jason gives a weary smile, “What’s up?” 

“I wanted to see you, JD.” 

He shrugs. Instantly amused by you. “Alright. You’ve seen me, now what? What’s the big surprise , Y/n?” 

You roll your eyes at his reaction, at his jazz hands. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you. I can be excited for that, right?” 

JD barks a laugh. “Of course.” 

He leads you in, locking and latching the door behind him once more. 

“The old man’s out for the night.”

“Perfect.”

“I knew you’d be sad about that,” he smiles and pulls you in for a rough kiss on the crown of your head. 

He picks up where he left off. He’d been reading some kind of magazine. It was boring. But he liked the distraction. He liked something that was a bit mind-numbingly dumb sometimes. He flops down on the couch, picking the tabloid off the coffee table. You hesitantly join him. You lean your head on his shoulder. 

The two of you stay like that for a while. You get up once to turn the fan off (it wasn’t very hot at all, you think it was just left on for background noise), but the noise rattles in your head and it’s all you can think about. Neither JD or you say anything, you just return to his side once more, till he’s finishing up the last page. He throws it with an exasperated huff onto the table. 

You snuggle closer to him, cradling your face next to his. You breathe in his scent, old leather and blood. You want to wrap it up and take it around with you everywhere. Maybe make a candle, so your room would always have a little bit of your boyfriend in it. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, in a quiet, mousy voice. 

JD doesn’t really respond. He doesn’t even shake his head or avert his eyes. He does, however, snake his arm around you and pulls you in tight. You whine- not at the embrace, which you loved- but his response. 

“Please?” 

He glances away and squeezes you tighter. You take that as your queue- don’t press it. 

“Thank you for what you did today, though. You’re always such a protector. You’re, like– my prince!” You try not to sound too giddy at the thought, you knew JD wouldn’t be up for much play time. Or maybe . . . any play time. That would be okay though, you rationalize with yourself. 

Jason Dean finally looks at you. His eyes water, only slightly. His brows furrow and he seems almost confused, but you know he isn’t. JD was the smartest person you knew. His lips quirk into a small smile. 

He chuckles, hiding his mouth when his laugh reaches a higher pitch. “Yeah, I am. Aren’t I? What does that make you, little one?” 

Oh god, okay. Maybe you can’t stay big for long right now.

You hum. “Maybe a princess? Or another prince?”

He boops your nose with your own, and you nearly forget why you’re there as your mind gets hazy. 

“JD, are you hur’?” 

He shakes his head.

“Are you sure? Papa, would you tell me if you were?” 

He looks at you quizzical. 

“Of course, dear.” He motions for you to get up. You do so, mostly unwilling. You follow him to his bedroom. “Y’know, I wanted to wait to give this to you. Sometime special but.” 

He sorts through his top dresser drawer, and pulls out a soft plushie of your favorite animal. You squeal as he hands it to you. 

“I was going to give it to you earlier today, at school. But those high school  Neanderthals  got in the way.”

You smile at the gesture and hold your new plushie in a tight grip against your chest. You loved the feeling of your fingers sunk into the fuzz and stuffing. It was squishy and had a bit of weight to it. 

“Thank you,” you mumble into your new toy. 

JD was all too good at distracting you. He knows you’re worried about him, but he doesn’t know how to tell you that this? Being the one real thing that can get you to smile? Makes up for all his bad feelings. He never feels alone with you. Never feels judged.

You always treat him with softness. You’re always looking out for him. And if you could just look up and see his face in this moment, how his smile reaches his eyes- that all he needs is you. As you are. He could face a lifetime more of hardships, as long as you could stay by his side. 

Maybe he still is enough to love you. Not to fix you but love you as you are and sit with you on your bad days and maybe enough to let you in his heart, too.

#JD #jd x reader #jason dean #jd #heathers #caregiver JD #jason dean #J. D. #little reader #sfw #agere #age regression #requests open #oneshot #I'm actually thinking about writing more for this prompt . . . #reblogs are encouraged #:D

[blvd-sys]

btw I am hugging all of you. sending lots of love too

#reblogs are encouraged

[girlfictions]

something i’ve been thinking about lately is like. growing up muslim right after 9/11 is something i’d never really reflected on much because it was all i’d ever known — at 5, my friend’s mum didn’t let her invite me to her birthday party because i was the only brown girl in our class, at 12, my classmates would joke about my family being part of isis, at 16, my dad was interrogated by american airport security for hours — and it always stung and it always hurt but it was just the way things were because the western world hated muslims. but i don’t think i’ve ever fully comprehended the extent to which we were hated until now.

palestine is being turned into a mass graveyard. every single day there are new photos of the atrocities being carried out against them and videos of them pleading for help and still those who can actually intervene turn a blind eye. israel is claiming to only be targeting hamas “terrorists” while bombing a refugee camp. israeli police raided and assaulted a non-zionist jewish neighbourhood. israeli soldiers are posting tiktoks of them torturing captured palestinians. this is not a complicated issue and it never has been. ethnic cleansing is being committed right in front of us. and yet the western world leaders refuse to call for a ceasefire.

and while zionist organisations accuse pro-palestine demonstrations of anti-semitism, while zionist celebrities insist that they’re afraid to leave their mansions in los angeles, a six year old muslim boy was stabbed to death and his mother wounded in the same attack in chicago. a muslim doctor was murdered while sitting outside her apartment complex in texas. hundreds of peaceful protesters have been arrested (many of whom have been jewish). despite what zionists want you to believe, this is not a jewish/muslim conflict. i have so much love and gratitude to my brave jewish brothers and sisters all over the world who are condemning israel for their actions.

ultimately, israel have been granted impunity by the west. they have slaughtered thousands upon thousands of innocent palestinians. they have bombed hospitals and schools indiscriminately. they have used white phosphorus, violating the geneva convention. they have completely eradicated nearly 900 bloodlines. how many more need to be wiped out? how many more children need to be buried underneath the rubble? how many more doctors need to be confronted with the bodies of their own family members? how many more journalists need to detail the horrific acts of violence they are witnessing? what more can be done to the palestinian people that has not been done already?

i truly believe that palestine will be free one day. i believe the palestinian people will receive the justice they finally deserve. but what breaks my heart is how much they have suffered and will continue to suffer before they are deemed worthy of help. and it would be to all of our detriment if we ignored how much of a factor palestine being a predominantly muslim state has played into the way the world has reacted to their genocide.

#edit: this is completely okay (and encouraged frankly) to reblog <3 #i just needed to get this off my chest because i don’t know how much more i can take #palestine #free palestine

[vlastovky]

knuckle tat ideas

FULL BUSH

YAOI YURI

BUTT STUF

SPAM CALL

WARM BEER

GUNK SLOP

FROT TAGE

SELF HARM

LOVE WINS

#11k notes and ppl started saying im encouraging self harm so no more reblogging for u!

[ursaspecter]

Please for the love of god normalize attraction to fat people I can't take this anymore.

#shut up casey #angry vent #ok to reblog #encouraged to reblog even #if any skinny ppl clown in the notes im gonna invert your lungs.