Alright let's imagine a scene that is all too normal in palestine. A palestinian business owner finds his building covered in graffiti stars of Davids and Hebrew that says "gas the arabs" and "death to arabs"
Now imagine there's a reporter there and asks the palestinian business owner what happens and they say "the jews attacked my business"
Pause. Now your response might be "uncle no. Say israelis not jews" and then this is when he would look at you like youre stupid because the israelis doing this are jewish. They are not the Christians or the druze or the palestinian ones with Israeli citizenship. They are Jewish israelis who believe in their religious supremacy. When you graffiti stars of david all over a palestinian business, car, or the street you seek that conflation. it sends a message, this is jewish land and you're next.
The problem is that these videos circulate in zionist circles. "Watch this video of children in gaza calling for the death of jews" "watch how they say they want to fight and kill jews" those children are referring to Israeli soldiers that come in night and do their raids with the star of David attached to their uniform or the ones that bomb them. It's easy to watch those videos and assume that palestinians are indoctrinating their children on anti semitism or you can realize that those children's only interaction with jewish ppl is through violence and parents cannot protect their children from this. Doesn't matter context is lost
Abby Martin went to Jerusalem and interviewed israelis for 2 hours and she says every israeli was extremely confident to say that this land is for them and that they should push the Arabs out and when she interviewed palestinians they spoke of freedom from occupation and their dreams. That's reality. Not the soundbites.
And yet we have invasive youtubers and interviewers constantly in the street of ramallah or wherever in palestine asking palestinians "do you hate jews?" And in those videos you hear those palestinians say "no we have no problem with jews we have a problem with occupation and we have a problem with zionism." Bc this is how we are trained to respond to this trope. Palestinians are very aware what the world thinks of us and the reality is that many palestinians have internalized it and we grow up reading books on the Holocaust and train ourselves to recognize anti semitic dog whistles so zionists don't get the soundbites they want.
So we say "anti zionism is not anti semitism" and we say "israeli zionists" and we do not say "jewish supremacy" even thought it exists in palestine but "zionist supremacy" and in these carefully worded speech we water down what is happening to us in an effort to not deter people away from solidarity. But it means nothing. The world categorically blames palestinians for rising anti semitism they blame us for jewish insecurity globally.
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seeing a lot of talk of the season 5 finale, which is fun, i get that it was controversial (honestly the fact it was really risky is kind of one of the things i like about it lol) and wanting to add my two cents but can't think of much i haven't already said before
but something i do want to emphasize is that season 5 ending on Marinette telling the biggest, boldest faced lie she's ever told (that goes far beyond "protecting her identity") to kick off the Lila arc is by far the coolest thing they could've done imo, because I was not at all excited for the Lila arc before but now I'm totally invested. Now Lila isn't the Evil Liar to be taken down by Good Marinette. Marinette is the liar to be taken down by the very liar that she took down. It's not a story of "defeat that freakishly evil girl" anymore, but instead a story of "Marinette's own actions and decisions coming back to bite her". And the lie itself (WHICH LILA KNOWS IS A LIE!!) only exists because, and is most impactful towards, her relationship with Adrien, which is the core of the series!! I CARE about their relationship, and that's the stakes!!!
I just cannot get over how cool that is, and how much I didn't expect it. I know we all were expecting a big fight with Ladybug and Chat Noir just defeating Gabriel and then watching Chat Noir cry or whatever in the few remaining minutes of screen-time and then it's all over and done with, but that's a series finale. This was a season finale. And they did something really unique and unexpected with it, while making sure it's a juicy season-finale conflict that leaves me actually excited about season 6
also, a side note— I think the framing of the finale made this confusing so I totally get why discussions about it are kind of all over the place, but... 90% of the post-wish stuff we saw had nothing to do with Gabriel at all. It was all Mayor Bustier, who was already running for mayor and wanted to enact green laws and projected to win (she was up against D'Argencourt, the character whose schtick is that nobody ever votes for him in elections). I don't think Gabriel's wish included "Please, Gimmi, I want my son's school teacher to win the mayoral election this year" lol. So a lot of talk of "why is Gabriel's World presented in such a positive light?" is kind of weird to me. That's not Gabriel's World. That's Caline Bustier's. All we know so far about Gabriel's World is that Nathalie is in it and he is not. And frankly, the fact everyone is so happy and cheerful and living it up after his death is more a roast than anything
( also, just a reminder that the presentation of Gabriel's statue— the only scene discussing Gabriel in a positive light by someone In The Know— was done by Tomoe Tsurugi, a series antagonist, vowing to continue his work, with a song in minor key playing in the background. i feel like the question of "was this meant to be unsettling or triumphant?" is pretty obvious. just wanted to remind everyone. also by definition characters cannot celebrate gabriel as a "hero" without in the same breath celebrating monarch's, aka gabriel's, death. yknow? )
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Imagine: Missionary with Din while you hold his necklace between your teeth 🤤 you ain’t getting away from me, boy
YOUR HEART GOT TEETH
a/n: i know you sent in another ask saying you didn't mean for it to be a request, but i started writing it the second you sent it. i just only finished it last night. mainly because my inspo for din has been lacking as of late. although i've been on a small din kick recently which has me going feral over this idea. it's barely even a fic, but i had to write it. din and jewelry is my eternal fucking weakness.
summary: horny thoughts about din's necklace.
word count: 0.9k+
pairing: din djarin x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, biting, p in v sex, din's brain short circuiting, a tad bit of needy!din, unedited and no beta so there's probably mistakes.
Time had slipped away from you the longer you lay there, your nails digging into his lower back and head thrown back. It felt like ages since he came home, practically dragging you into the room with a throaty rasp of what sounded like your name and need you. And who were you to dissuade him? When you were more than willing to be spread out beneath him, his name was a cry that was permanently etched on the tip of your tongue.
“You feel fucking perfect,” he grunted, his teeth sinking into the hot skin of your shoulder.
The spot would feel tender tomorrow, but at that moment you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted. Your walls clamped down around his cock, a garbled moan ripped from your throat as he soothed you with his tongue.
“D-Din—” Your breath caught in your throat, legs trembling as he shifted the angle slightly, striking against something eviscerating.
“Mesh’la,” he panted, hand sliding down to hitch your leg up higher on his hip.
You could feel the cold metal of his necklace press against your chest as he dropped down to kiss you. Licking into your mouth—spit trailing along his chin when he pulled away. He began to speak then. An aimless ramble of how he couldn’t wait to fill you up, to watch you cum on his cock, but your mind had gone empty. The only thing registering, that familiar cold feeling that warmed up against your skin.
The silver of his necklace swayed in front of you. The chain, pristine and perfect even after years of wear. And you couldn’t tear your eyes off it. Could barely understand that he was in fact still talking to you. Din pulled himself up off you slightly and something registered in your brain—flickering bright. Overtaking everything until it practically burned through your body.
Leaning up, you latched your teeth into the chain of his necklace, dragging him back down until his body was pressed completely on top of you. Nearly pressing the breath out of your lungs.
His eyes widened, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and you felt it. The way his hips stuttered as his mouth dropped open. He moaned unabashedly, his thrusts speeding up as he desperately shoved you towards a release—his fingers swirling quickly on your clit. You remained where you were. Biting into his necklace and scratching your nails down his back as your release built and built.
Until something snapped so hard your entire body arched. A shout leaving your mouth as his necklace fell past your lips, dragging along your throat. Something about the metal pressed hotly against you unraveled you even further. Sending you so high you feared you may never come back down.
“Look at you,” he breathed, a tinge of awe in his voice. He shoved his hips forward, sinking deeper until a soft tinge of pain mixed with the pleasure. “You like my necklace in your mouth? Huh?”
You gasped, feeling his arm loop beneath your knee and pull your leg up—pressing you into a position that pounded the head of his cock right against that blinding spot inside you. Another orgasm was building fast, but you could barely get words out to let him know. He watched tears stream down your temples, your mouth open yet no sound came out.
“Oh fuck,” he breathed out, feeling his balls draw up and his stomach tighten. “C’mon mesh’la. Give me another one.”
His hips grinded down, the coarse hair at the base of his cock hitting your clit perfectly—shoving you towards another mind numbing release.
“Din!” you wailed, your thighs trembling in his hold—eyes rolling back as you lost all sense.
“Please, please—” He leaned up, his necklace hitting your lips—the plea sounding deliciously perfect on his tongue. “I need…maker—”
Without fully realizing it you latched your teeth around the metal, tugging until it dug into the skin on his neck, the sharp bite of pain all he needed. He fell apart with a choked moan, burying his teeth wherever he could reach as he spurted into you. That familiar warm sensation now sending a soft rolling wave of pleasure through your spent body.
He panted against your skin, his body hot to the touch, but you still ran your hands down his back—soothing him until he felt well enough to say something. Eventually he raised his head, his brown eyes sparkling and lips pulled up into a knowing grin. A look that made your heart flutter—warmth filling your heart.
“Didn’t know you liked my necklace that much.”
You huffed, unable to stop the smile from pulling at your lips. “Shut up.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, sliding his lips along your cheek. “I liked it.”
His fingers played along your collarbone, thumb pressing against the skin and tracing until he hit the base of your throat. “I’ll have to get you a necklace too.”
Your eyes widened, lips parting as the image of him biting down on your necklace entered your mind. As if the breath was knocked from your lungs, you felt your walls flutter around his softening cock—heat spreading beneath your skin. His grin widened, the look on his face so blatant and loud you practically heard him whisper it into your ear. For a moment you wondered if he had in fact said it out loud.
Yet his mouth remained closed, his hand pressing lightly against your throat as he shifted, thrusting shallowly into your leaking cunt. The message, now loud and clear.
Your turn.
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I will forever love seeing Luffy and Nami holding Zoro's swords. He's so protective of those three but it's not even because he fears something might happen to them, but because he's scared something might happen to the crew and himself if he doesn't have them with him. They're like extra limbs. The ones he uses to fight and protect and breathe. He feels uneasy whenever his swords aren't around him, and that is just a fact. You can't deny that he feels comfort in having them by his side at all times, knowing that he'll be able to protect the crew from any dangers. They're tied to his heart and soul in a way that if he loses sight of them he might actually lose himself too. So he does not enjoy seeing his swords in somebody else's hands. They can disappear, he will find them. They can run away, he will follow. They can break, he trusts them not to but if they do, he will keep going carrying their bond with him still. But he doesn't like seeing them in somebody else's hands because those are his swords. His limbs. His heart. His soul. It's just not right. It never feels right. But.
But.
But sometimes Luffy acts like he knows what he's doing and actually asks for permission instead of just taking what he wants. As if crossing Zoro's boundaries would be unforgivable, when he knows Zoro would give him anything he wanted to take from him. But he asks. He asks, with a careful, polite, deep voice Zoro isn't used to hearing. But it always ends with the softest of smiles and the petition reaches a place inside of Zoro's heart that he just knows has also touched his swords. So he lets him, because how could he not, and he runs his fingers through all of them. Amazed. Astonished. Respectfully talking to them as if they could hear him. And they can. Zoro knows they hear and feel and love and crave and long for his captain's touch. He knows, because he does too. Because who wouldn't? Luffy holds them in a way he never holds anything else- Carefully. Like they aren't his. Like befriending somebody he fears might reject him. Like taking hold of Zoro's heart and holding him so gently in case he might break him. He worships them as if he weren't the god in this relationship. He looks handsome, too. Not pretty. Not cute. Handsome. Mature. His hat covers his adventurous gaze but leaves his mischievous grin for the whole world to see. And yet, the swordsman trusts him enough. Without any look or any word. He knows Luffy's face by heart, he realizes, now that he can picture his eyes quite too perfectly under his hat. His skin glistens under the sun and his tender fingers hold the sword with so much clumsiness it looks dumb. He doesn't know how to hold them, yet they don't want to move away from him. It's clumsy but it takes over them. Maybe it's his haki. Maybe it's the effect the future king of the pirates has. Zoro thinks it's just him. Luffy. And his heart stops the second Luffy smiles, as if he had just heard the sword respond to him. He wants to kiss him. Bite him. Let him bite back and draw blood and eat him. Let him hold him the way he holds the swords but tighter. Closer. Maybe he's in love. Zoro. With Luffy. It's not a maybe. Who is he trying to trick? He knows he is in love. With the way he smiles and the way he holds and the way he wants but respects and loves. It's funny like that, the fact that Luffy keeps being so careful when Zoro would let him tear his heart apart and eat it if he so desired. It's funny that the swords love him with such gentleness when they often demand power. Perhaps kindness is the most powerful weapon of all or, at least, Luffy's most powerful skill. Zoro hates it when somebody else holds them because they don't own them. They don't own him. He doesn't even own his swords, anyway. Nobody can. They're his the same way he's theirs, just with a bit more dominance and respect. But Luffy isn't owning them. He's praying to them. Talking to them. Befriending them. Loving them. And they would bow to him if he so desired. Zoro knows they would, as fierce as they are and violent as they seem and as sharp as they cut. They'd bow to him because Zoro would too. The uneasiness does not exist when Luffy is the one to hold them because, if Zoro had to give out his soul for somebody to take care of, that would be Luffy. And if he has to be unprotected. Naked. Bare in front of a thousand soldiers. He will if it's Luffy the one fighting instead.
Sometimes Nami wants to hold them just to feel what it's like to be in Zoro's shoes. It's a stupid reason. He refuses to let her do it as an instinctive reaction at first. She doesn't seem as interested in following the protocol as Luffy is, but she knows where to stop and she knows what to say to get on Zoro's nerves, anyway. She's equally as fierce. Equally as sharp. He won't let her hold any cursed sword, but it's not like she wants to. She's smarter than that. Careful and respectful but not that interested in the swords and what they mean, more in how they feel. Zoro gets it. Kind of. Somehow. She says something about always letting them eat her precious tangerines, so he should humor her by letting her hold Wado at least. She isn't pushing him. He knows she wouldn't. She's just teasing because she knows. She always knows. She knows he will say yes. Because he always does what she says, although he keeps demanding a bit of respect to not be treated like a dog. But Nami never forces him to do anything. He could refuse. She would give up at some point. But there's just something about her- Stubbornness. Strength. Love. So much love and care and worry and anger. And Zoro likes her. She's selfish, too, like a pirate should be. Stronger than Zoro in the ways that matter. Smarter, too, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. But she leads the way and he follows, not because that's a dog's job, but because he wants to. He trusts her. Something he never thought he would. But he does. She's smart. She leads the way. She knows where they're going. They somehow are the same and totally different at the same time. Zoro grounds Luffy when he gets lost. Nami leads them both so they won't. So there's something about her curiosity that makes him soften. He never knows exactly why he does what she says. Why he indulges her like that. But it's satisfying, for some reason he refuses to read within himself, the satisfactory and pleased grin on her face when he hands her Wado. She's careful with her. Awful at holding her. Bad posture. Great smile. Horrible movements. Beautiful eyes. It's okay, though, he thinks. Wado likes her because Zoro likes her. Nami loses interest within a minute, complaining about the weight and the sudden realization of "you always have this thing in your mouth" which makes her want to give her back. But she stares at her for a whole minute. It isn't her thing, but her eyes spark when the sword is returned to Zoro. Trust. A smile. Thankfulness. Her bangs are getting a bit longer and one strand of hair gets in the middle of her teasing smirk. She says she prefers her clima-tact, but swords are fine, "I guess". "She's pretty" she says. Zoro thinks she is pretty. Nami. In a way he can't quite describe because he has never really been good at that. But she is. Like a blade. Sharp. But in the right hands this time for her not to cut the ones she loves anymore. She hands him a tangerine next, every time he lets her hold his sword. An exchange. "I give you something that matters. You give me something that matters". Zoro wants to say it's not the same, but the tangerine is sweet. Juicy. His fingers then smell strongly of citrus. Almost as similar as steel. If he can feel Nami's heartbeat in every bite, he wonders if she has been able to hear his in the hilt of his sword. Calm. Peaceful. Safe.
Zoro doesn't like seeing his swords in somebody else's hands because those are his swords. His limbs. His heart. His soul. It's just not right. It never feels right. But.
But sometimes it does.
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