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#we're talking about people losing their homes and lives
scorpion-flower · 2 years
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Hey, wanna see something really disgusting?
Go to Nerdeen Kiswani's stories on IG (@nerdeenk) to watch multiple videos of Israeli zionists openly celebrating the death of Palestinian civilians (especially childrens') openly admitting in interviews that they want to see Arabs die and photos from her DMS where people taunt her and tell her "Hey, remember that 18 month old baby we burned?" as well as "Go back to where you came from you dirty pig".
But remember, media wants you to believe that Palestinians (and all Arabs tbh) are uncivilized and that Israel is the only democracy in the Middle East *clown noices*
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permanentreverie · 11 months
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I swear the thing that's finally gonna convince me to delete Instagram is all of the Americans whining about the smoke and 'blaming Canada'
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sneefsnorf · 7 months
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i think i would like to make every genocidal imperialist state explode into one million dust particles
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whetstonefires · 1 year
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One thing I don't think I've ever seen talked about is how post-apocalypse ideation is largely about homelessness.
Homelessness looms large in the American consciousness. Like, not that it's irrelevant elsewhere, but it's got a particular cultural place in the US that's reflected in Hollywood, and therefore relevant because what makes it into film and TV sets the terms of so many conversations.
We don't acknowledge it if we can help it, but I think most people know they're never more than a few very bad months from winding up there.
Even people who are sure it only happens to people who deserve it, who fuck up and put one foot in the morass of their own foolish volition. Even they know the quicksand is there, waiting to be walked into, and that the odds are stacked against ever climbing out on your own once you have. And that they, too, are capable of fucking up. Of trusting the wrong person. Of getting cancer incorrectly.
And those of us who know damn well we can't be sure we're safe even if we do everything right, we know it even better.
And in that sense it doesn't matter what the world would realistically look like after X kind of apocalypse, what people would do, how society would adapt. Because the anxiety that's being processed is about the reality that's in existence now.
About what if my world ends. And I lose access to the fruits of developed society, to clean clothes and new glasses and running water, to a safe place to sleep where I don't expect to be killed or robbed, or driven out by men with guns and dogs. To my home and work and family and everything I usually use to tell me who I am.
What if every man's hand is against me, and every meal is a small victory, and there's only my own dwindling strength between me and the long night?
Will I make it? Will I hold up under the strain? Will I retain my dignity? Will I be lucky? Will I be able to protect the people I love, in that world, the world where no one is protecting us anymore?
Is there a way to continue to live as a human person, when you're denied the prerogatives of one, and don't know if you'll ever get them back?
Putting this anxiety into the context of a massive apocalypse divorces this scenario from the burden of shame tied up in the idea of winding up in that sort of situation in the normal course of events, by having society vanish rather than expel you, personally, as a washout, and continue on around you.
It also allows you to rule out a priori the question of what resources might be offered but can't in an anticipatory context be counted on; shelters and programs and housed friends and family who may or may not help. And narrow the narrative to only the question of what you can survive, and often a fairy tale about surviving all of it and starting over.
Rehearsing for a loss in a mythologized format is a very normal anxiety processing behavior, and I think a lot of apocalypse scenario building is attached to the buried dread of that personal apocalypse. But I haven't seen that one make the list.
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5sospenguinqueen · 17 days
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Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid
Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.
Apologies but this is a female reader.
Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.
There is no timeline for this. Make it up.
Main Masterlist.
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Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.
"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."
"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.
Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"
She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.
Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.
"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"
"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.
"Who?!"
"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.
"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."
She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"
"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."
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The interview went viral.
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YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)
→ LandoNorris no.
User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face
User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?
User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.
→ Your User Name 👀👀
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User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.
User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.
User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.
OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.
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YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.
YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.
PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...
→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.
User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.
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User 8 coming for his teammate
User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull
User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms
YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back
→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium
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Max33Verstappen not my babies?!
→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.
→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself
→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next
→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*
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User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.
User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.
User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?
User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster
→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next
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User we found the snitch
User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?
LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond
Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.
redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.
→ YourUserName crap.
User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?
→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.
→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed
→ lilymhe can confirm.
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lilmashae · 6 months
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jake loves mean girls | s.jy, smut 18+
cw: oral (f.), handjob, p in v, degradation, overstimulation, orgasm denial, pet-names, smut.
sunghoon loves mean girls, but that's neither here, nor there. we're here to talk about jake — jake also, loves mean girls, but not in the same way as sunghoon.
you're well known on campus — an angel. you're so helpful and smart, sweet too — heaven sent, unlike your 'good for nothing' boyfriend.
at first, people had a hard time believing you two were even together. how could you, be with jake? the same campus 'heartthrob' who wore a proud, lopsided grin at all times. they felt bad for you, the 'poor girl' who doesn't know what she's getting herself into — when in reality it's the other way around.
you're so fucking mean to jake, and he loves it. he's yours, and you make sure that he knows it.
"so, fucking needy all of the time." you scoff, hand wrapped around his cock with your tits spilling out of your shirts hem. you knew how easy it was for jake to get a hard on — bending over, clad in barely anything (a miniskirt so short) was bound to give any one a raging bulge. you had fun teasing him. "god, jake... you couldn't wait 'til we got home. 's'pathetic. fucking embarrassing." you spat of his cock, lubricating the already slick shaft and leaking red tip. " ''m'sorry... 'just so, shit! so, so, so pretty..."
he's lost in the way you tug at his cock, each stroke is attentive, yet careless and rough. "since we're here though, go ahead. cum all over my tits just like you begged." whimpers and moans ripped from his throat, eyes rolling as you continued to jerk him off in the storage closet. "what do you say, jake? hm, use your words."
"t-thank — ah! f-fuck... fuck me, please... thank you! thank you, y/n, baby. thanks so fucking — ngh!"
jake wants it all — swear at him and call him all sorts of names or totally ignore him, tie him up and edge him for hours — he lives and breathes to 'serve you.'
for hours you've been bouncing on his cock, "n-no more... y/n, please! shit..." he seethed between his teeth, hand tied above his head as he squirmed beneath you. "i can't cum anymore, that's it, please..." you watched tears stain his cheeks, not slowing the pace at which you rode him. " 'feels too good, baby, please! oh, fuck i'm going —" and before he can cum, painting your gummy walls with thick ropes of sticky cum you stop. "shit..." he whines, "what'd i do? please, please," jake bucks his hips up into your heat, pleading for more friction. "that's what you get for lying to me." you kiss the small of his temple before rising up and off of his sore-dick.
and, obviously you're not always mean to him. you'll reward jake by letting him spend hours at a time lapping your cunt. stuffing his tongue in and out of your heat, prodding your clit with his nose as he nibbles softly at your skin.
if he's been extra good you'll let him fuck you. poor boy loses control, he pounds himself into your cunt, leaving sticky mess behind.
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guidelines and disclaimers! enjoy this shit drabble, ily gn love !! ❤
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ilottcallum · 2 years
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i'm once again being emotional about my friends at almost 3am help
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jaidens · 10 months
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Only Bought This Dress (So You Could Take It Off)
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pairing [s] : miguel o’hara x reader
warnings [s] : smuttyyy | miguel is big af | spanking, jealousy smut!! mamas favorite treat. | ripping of clothes | miguel is a jealous daddy teehee | name-calling | oml this mann
a/n : guys i really don't know.. except i want him..so
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Whenever Miguel invited you to the Spider-Ball, you had no idea what to wear to be completely and totally honest. Your designer was confused whenever you showed her a picture of Miguel's suit and told her to work her magic. And your designer did such.
The colors of blue and red were prominent and it had a collection of dark-orangey red to compliment his webs. It was completely perfect and what you were thinking of without even explaining it. It was a soft silk fabric with lace covered around with strings of pearls.
You had found a matching lingerie set that would have surely made Miguel lose his mind. When he picked you up in front of your apartment you saw how when you walked down the steps in your long, stiletto red bottom heels and that dress he was anxiously moving in his seat and holding only small talk with you.
The limo stopped at a humongous, absolutely gorgeous building the event was being held at. Spider-Men and Women from all over were dressed to the Tens. The driver opened your door and held his hand out for you to grab. You thanked him graciously as you tangled your arm with Miguel's as he straightened out his suit and he looked down at you. “You look absolutely gorgeous tonight. I love this dress.” His hand touches your hip, rubbing across the delicate fabric. You smile up at him, tracing across his features and the moonlight that colors his face with beautiful carvings.
He helps you up the stairs, letting you use him as a guide to getting up with such tall heels and concrete steps aren't the best mix. His hand stays on your lower back, holding you closer to him when more and more people start to show up. When you walk into the beautiful ballroom, the white marble floors are covered with people and you look up at the expressive paintings that reside on the ceiling with admiration.
“Look at that ceiling. My goodness, it's absolutely gorgeous." Miguel looks up at it, and you get a sight of his neck, as it stretches “It’s pretty amazing." Miguel leaves to speak with another caterer of the party and you go talk to sweet Mary-Jane. Her bright red hair strikes you as she turns around quickly and drops her mouth open.
“Aren’t you just gorgeous? Oh my wow... I love this dress!” Mary-Jane compliments you while running her hand down your arm. “Look at you! I'm obsessed with those earrings." You and MJ hold small talk before Peter walks up behind her and pulls her away to the drink and food tables.
You find a conversation with Peter. You ask him about why he decided to come to the event. “It’s for charity, love. I'll always go to these types of functions if it's about charity.” You turn your head and see Miguel staring at you and Peter, and you're in for the game. You put your hand on his shoulder and you start laughing when he makes a joke about robbing banks.
But as the night reached its climax, a shadow was cast over the euphoria. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced toward the entrance, meeting the gaze of a familiar face. There he stood, his eyes narrowed with a simmering mix of anger and hurt. It was him—the man I had left behind, Miguel consumed by jealousy.
You continue such actions, just being more calm and touchy. You really only saw Peter as a brother and nothing more. Even after stating that multiple times, Miguel still got worried about him. The live concert band showed up and you got giddy and grabbed Peter's hand and asked him to dance. You were casually dancing with Peter until the switch partners part of the song began and someone grabbed your hand and pushed you close.
“Such a slut aren't you? We're going home after this dance.” Miguel is angry and you can tell. His words are cut off and you see his eyes slowly darken with lust and jealousy. You stare down and rest your head on his chest. “Acting all innocent now too.” You really weren't trying to act innocent. You were worried about beginning to do it because you knew how Miguel would act.
As we made our way through the crowd, I cast one last glance over my shoulder, yearning for the stranger who had stirred something within me. But all I found were empty eyes, longing for freedom that now seemed like a distant dream.
The sleek, midnight-black car cut through the city streets like a predator on the prowl. Inside, the air crackled with a mix of desire and jealousy, swirling around Miguel and me, creating an intoxicating tension. The dimly lit cabin was suffused with a primal energy that mirrored the storm brewing between us.
Miguel's hands gripped the steering wheel with an intensity that betrayed the seething jealousy consuming him. His jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but I could feel his eyes flickering with a fiery mix of possessiveness and resentment.
Earlier that evening, we had attended a glamorous social event, where attention naturally gravitated toward me. Miguel had watched as I conversed and laughed with other men, his strong facade cracking with each flirtatious exchange. The allure of his jealousy fueled my desire, and now we found ourselves alone, confined within the intimate space of his car.
The engine's growl mirrored the tension pulsating between us, as Miguel's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. The silence was heavy, pregnant with unspoken words and simmering emotions, as we hurtled through the city streets with dangerous haste.
Unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, I ventured, my voice a gentle tremor, "Miguel, what's wrong?"
His gaze pierced through me, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "You know damn well what's wrong," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of accusation.
A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the air grow thick with his possessive aura. Miguel's simmering jealousy took on a life of its own, threatening to consume us both. I could sense the hunger in his touch, the burning desire to claim what he believed was rightfully his.
With a sudden swerve, the car veered into an empty parking lot, its tires screeching against the pavement. We came to an abrupt stop, the stillness amplifying the intensity of our emotions. Miguel turned to me, his dark eyes staring into mine, his breath shallow and uneven.
"What were you doing back there?" he demanded, his voice low and charged with a mix of anger and longing. "Flirting with Peter, teasing him with your charm."
A flicker of guilt danced across my features, mingling with the thrill of his possessive rage. "Miguel, it was harmless. Just a bit of fun."
His hand shot out, capturing my chin in a firm grip, his touch simultaneously tender and controlling. "Fun? Do you think I find pleasure in watching Peter vie for your attention?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper, laced with a possessiveness that sent a jolt of desire coursing through me. "You're mine, and I won't stand for it."
In that charged moment, the confines of the car became an arena for our desires and frustrations. The boundaries blurred as Miguel's lips descended upon mine, claiming me with a ferocity that matched the fiery jealousy burning within him. The car's interior became a sanctuary for our entangled bodies, as we surrendered to the intoxicating dance of lust and possessiveness, each touch igniting a passionate blaze that threatened to consume us whole.
In the passenger seat, you, a tantalizing and spirited woman, brace yourself for what you sense is about to unfold. The air is thick with tension as you exit the car, your heart pounding in anticipation.
Miguel storms around the vehicle, his movements exuding authority, and yanks open your door. Without a word, he seizes your wrist and pulls you out, his grip firm yet electric with desire. He gracefully opens the door to the large house and he starts angrily dragging you to the bedroom that you shared together. He flips the lights off and presses a button. The LED lights that sat above turned a dark red. His tan skin is even more beautiful and tantalizing than it was in the sunlight. 
He pulls his tie loose and he throws you onto the cleanly made bed. You bend your elbows to catch your fall. You put your knees up and close your thighs together, giving a sort of pleasure that was becoming single-handedly harder to hold back from Miguel.  He begins to kiss your neck, sending a tingling sensation through your body. His hands move to your waist, feeling the curves of your body before he presses his body against yours. You close your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure that Miguel brings.
His lips travel down to your collarbone, creating a trail of butterflies that spread throughout your body. You can feel the heat of his body against yours and your heart racing. His hands move to your back as he leans in closer, sending sparks through your soul. He looks into your eyes and your lips meet in an electric kiss. You're lost in the moment, feeling alive and full of passion. You never want it to end. You're stuck in this dream before you remember what got you into this mess. He pulls away angrily and rips the perfectly made dress off your body. You stand there, feeling exposed and embarrassed. "Flirting with Peter wasn't a good idea, was it? Or would you rather him fuck you? Your heart raced as he said those words. You felt ashamed. You knew you had to face the consequences of your actions and you were not looking forward to it. He pulls off his tailored suit and you have a full look at his strong chest.
Miguel crawls back onto the bed and he bites your neck. You moan out and grab at his back, your manicured nails scratching red marks on them. "Please.. touch me." You're completely embarrassed that you're begging for him after getting yourself stuck in this situation. He smiles, a wicked glint in his eye as he presses himself against you. His hands roam your body as he kisses your neck, his breath hot on your skin. You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you as you surrender to his touch. His hand runs down your body, tracing over the delicate lace that you were adorned in.  Miguel's hand travels just under the waistband of the panties, teasing you further. "You like the taste of your own medicine? I bet you do." 
His fingers skim the lace and travel further until they reach your core. He teases and tantalizes you until you can't take it anymore and you cry out in pleasure. Miguel smiles, satisfied with the power he holds over you. "Such a slutty baby. Bet you'll take anything anyone gives you?" You blush and shake your head, unable to find the words to respond. He grins and presses his lips against yours, letting you know he doesn't need your answer. Instead, he just wants to show you how much pleasure he can give you. You feel his fingers rub your clit in figure-eights. You're rubbing your hips against his hands. You're so close before you feel it; he rips his hands away and lays his fingers against your lips.
You accept his fingers into your mouth and suck them off your pleasure. You moan as he moves his fingers in and out of your mouth, savoring the taste of your arousal. His hands return to your clit and you're soon overcome with pleasure, arching your back as you reach your peak. He flips you over and pushes your head down into the soft pillows and pulls your ass up. You're staring at the mirror at his gorgeous body as he pulls his pants down and throws them on the floor.
You can feel his hand rub against your ass before you feel it, a harsh smack against it. You cry out and hear him speak, "I want you to count how many times I spank your ass. If you do it correctly, I'll treat you." You take a deep breath and start counting, determined to do as he asked. As the spanks continue, you feel a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. You grit your teeth and keep counting until he stops. You feel one last rub in a circle over the burning marks. "You did well, baby." He flips you back around and your head it sat between your pillows and he grabs a pillow next to your head.
You twist your body around to be on your back. You're staring into his dark, beautiful eyes. Miguel takes the pillow and sticks it under your ass. You're on display for him. Your legs spread wide to give him room to relax. His strong arms wrap around your thighs and you feel his breath on your core. He looks up at you with a smirk and then explores you with his mouth. His tongue and lips dance around your sensitive areas.
His lips move faster and faster, sending shockwaves through your body that cause you to arch your back and thrust your hips into his face. His tongue is like a warm, gentle wave, caressing you and making you feel more alive than you ever have before. You can feel your muscles tense up as you get closer and closer to the edge, and when you finally reach it you let out a loud, intense moan that echoes through the room.
"So good for me." He groans out as he comes back up from your core and your slick is on his chin and lips, shimmering in the light. Miguel sits up and you notice how tense his body is. He's hard, his tip is dark purple had gotten so worked up from eating you out and hearing your pleasurable moans that echoed throughout the room. You sit up and your hand travels down his abs and to his cock, stroking it. He leans back against the bed; his hands holding him up from falling, and you press your lips against his, tasting yourself and him. You can feel his heartbeat racing as you kiss him passionately. Your hand strokes him as he humps into your hand. "For how dominant you had been earlier... this is different."
Miguel looks up at you. His eyes have tears as you continue to stroke him. You can sense the vulnerability in Miguel as he looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears. You can feel the emotion radiating off of him as his heart beats rapidly in response to your touch. He is letting you in, allowing you to see a side to him that he usually keeps hidden. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close. You whisper comforting words to him, assuring him that it's ok to let it all out. He relaxes in your embrace, feeling safe and secure in your presence. After a couple of quick thrusts, his abs tighten and he cums in your hand. 
He holds you and you lay in his arms. “You did so good baby. Let’s go get you in the bath.” Miguel picks you up under your aching thighs and carries you to the bathroom that was in your room. He sets you down on the chair that sat in the bathroom. He turns on the bathtub and the water begins heating up. Miguel picks you up once more and sets you into the bath. Your body stretches out and you relax. You share I Love You’s and you lay down for the night.
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lihhelsing · 7 months
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Part 3
Eddie can barely react when Steve offers to pick him up at his house for their date night.
Eddie is a nervous wreck at this point as he's been with everything that's related to Steve (or related to not-Steve). 
Ever since he first matched with him, Eddie felt like he was living in a parallel world because there was no way in hell someone like him would ever swipe right on someone like Eddie. And yet. It really happened. 
Well, at first it didn't, but then Steve called and said all those nice things to Eddie and fuck if he wasn't easy when someone flattered him. 
But Eddie was also a paranoid shit, so he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Steve to laugh at him and tell him it was just a prank. For him to ghost him - which maybe would be even worse. 
But Steve didn't and now he was waiting outside of his place in a fucking BMW? What the fuck was that? 
Steve looks good because he always does. They had been exchanging pictures of themselves as they talked and even when Steve was all sweaty and gross from a workout he still looked good. Eddie compensated with good angles and dork faces that Steve said time and time again were adorable. 
He insisted so much that he thought Eddie was cute that Eddie was almost believing him. He had also tried his hardest for their date, putting on some of his favorite clothes, a band t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans that made him look good. His hair was down because it felt like a good armor if he needed to hide from something. 
Steve doesn't even give him time to anything before he's smiling and saying 'you look so handsome,' and placing his hand on Eddie's thigh and fuck, he forgot how to breathe. 
"Thanks, you, uh, you look good, too," Eddie blabbers and Steve chuckles and it's adorable. He's adorable and Eddie is losing his shit. 
"Ready for our date?" Steve smiles and turns the car on, his hand heavy on Eddie's leg still. There's a part of Eddie that's sure he's the farthest thing from ready, but this is happening, no question. 
X
Somehow, Eddie tricks Steve into inviting him over after the movie is over. Steve said he wanted to take him to dinner, but he failed to mention dinner was actually eating popcorn and candy at a drive-in. 
Eddie had no notes. 
After the movie started, he managed to relax a bit. Steve seemed to feel it because he, too, relaxed and when they were done with their food, he offered his hand for Eddie to take. He felt giddy like a high-schooler and like Steve had, somehow, known Eddie never had the chance to do any of that in high school.
Despite his fancy car, Steve's apartment is more modest than Eddie expects it to be. He mentioned having a roommate who he's friends with, although he said he just met her over the internet and she hooked him up with the job. 
"So, is she like your best friend or something?" Eddie asks as Steve opens the car door for him as if he's a prince out of a fairy tale. 
"Oh, no. I mean, we're friends and we talk and I really like her company, but I don't think she likes me very much."
"Why not?"
Steve shrugs, but Eddie can tell it's a sore subject‌. Eddie gets it, though. For the little he knows Steve, he can already tell he cares a lot about people liking him or not. He also doesn't understand why someone wouldn't like Steve, but well, people are weird. 
"Is she out?" Eddie asks as they get in the elevator and Steve nods. 
"Yeah, she usually spends Friday nights at her girlfriend's place. That's why I normally get the Friday shift. I kind of hate being home alone and it's just a nice thing to do for her, I guess."
Eddie hums noncommittally. He's trying to piece Steve together, but it's hard because his looks and his posture sometimes say one thing and then he lets out this incredibly vulnerable information and it leaves Eddie confused. 
They walk in together and the place is small, but cute. There's an old couch and Steve tells him to sit down, saying he's getting them some drinks. Eddie doesn't want to drink, he wants to just grab Steve by the face and kiss him dumb. 
Steve doesn't take long and as he sits down, Eddie can't hold it anymore. He has no idea where all this bravado comes from, but he leans forward and pecks Steve on the mouth. Steve's eyes widen and Eddie is about to apologize when two hands cup his face and pull him forward. 
And then they are kissing. Really kissing. With tongue and little huffs that come out of Steve's mouth and Eddie feels like he's died. 
If he is, in fact, dead, then Eddie is going to make the best of it. He lets his hands move to Steve's waist and he pulls him in. He has no idea what he was trying to do, but Steve seems to be much more confident because he straddles Eddie's hips and then he's on top. 
"Fuck," Eddie says. He's completely out of breath and Steve feels so good like this. He grips his waist harder and Steve thinks it's a go-ahead for him to roll his hips down and Eddie sees stars. 
Steve kisses him like he's hungry for him, and it's a heady feeling. Eddie has kissed boys before, but no one that looked like Steve. No one that made his heart skip so many beats like he does. 
No one that seemed to want Eddie as much as Steve does right now. 
"Stevie," Eddie whispers. He's not even sure he managed to get the words out but Steve stops kissing his neck. His pupils are blown out and his mouth is red and swollen and Eddie did that. 
"Yeah?" Steve is out of breath, too. His chest rises and falls in quick intervals. 
"Can we slow down?" Eddie says when he catches his own breath. He's afraid of saying it because it makes him look pathetic, but he doesn't want to rush this. 
They've been talking for a month before they even went out, but Eddie still feels too raw and insecure and-
"Of course, baby," Steve interrupts Eddie's train of thought and he has a soft smile, but he doesn't move away. He's not repelled by Eddie. He leans in and kisses him softly on the mouth. 
The pet name wraps itself around Eddie's heart. He's desperate to believe all of this means more than just a casual hook up but he knows he can't. Not yet. 
"Oh, wait! I saved a video I wanted to show you," Steve says as if they weren't eating each other a few short seconds ago. Eddie chuckles. He likes it. He likes how Steve can just roll with whatever Eddie throws his way. 
"Yeah, let's see this video," Eddie smiles, takes a moment to just admire Steve, hair a complete mess thanks to him, face flushed a pretty shade of pink. He looks perfect and Eddie wants to keep him so bad. 
"Wait, can you call my phone? I don't know where I put it." 
Much to Eddie's disappointment, Steve gets out of his lap and pats his pockets, frowning. He starts moving around the house and Eddie fishes his phone, dialing Steve's number from his contact list. 
He watches as Steve disappears back inside the kitchen and listens as his phone starts to ring right beside him, on the couch. Eddie can't see it, so he pushes his hand at the edges and pulls out Steve's phone. 
They must've been making out pretty hard for the phone to go this deeper on the couch. Eddie chuckles and presses the red button at the same time Steve comes back into the living room. 
"Found it! I left it at the kitchen counter when I grabbed us water," Steve says, waving a phone he has in his hands. Eddie frowns at him and holds out the phone he found. 
"Me too."
It's Steve's turn to look confused. "What?"
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matan4il · 3 months
Text
IDK how to write today's update post. There were so many things I meant to include info about, but now everything pales in the face of the terrible news we got this morning.
At least 24 Israeli soldiers were killed in the last 24 hours in Gaza.
Here are the faces of some of them:
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The terrorists responsible for most of these deaths, attacked in a spot just 600 meters (0.37 miles, with the border breached on Oct 7 in the middle) from a southern Israeli community, Kissufim.
[this paragraph is for the people spewing hate, on and off anon : if you read the news and smiled to yourself, or felt any kind of joy, I want you to know that's vile. It's devoid of any morality or humanity. You can tell yourself and others that you're for human rights all you want, but if you feel joy at the death of human beings, human beings who had the right to live (and would have lived, had it not been for the terrible massacre Hamas carried out on Oct 7, which the terrorists promised to recreate repeatedly, targeting Israelis and Jews alike), then you're not for human rights. It's just an excuse you use to be able to publicly celebrate the death of Jews, and of non-Jewish citizens of the Jewish state who defend their fellow Jews. It's just the same, age old antisemitism under a new guise]
IDK how to explain what that number does to me, as an Israeli, as a Jew, as the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors.
I still remember the morning of Oct 7, as the news started pouring in. First, just talking about the rockets, they had no confirmation of casualties yet. Then, we got the news of one elderly woman, killed by a rocket as she left her home to open the communal bomb shelter for others to use. Then suddenly it was 5 dead, then 10, then 22, along with the news that Palestinian terrorists from Gaza have invaded Israel's south.
And I knew then that the number is going to be higher. The way it normally goes with news of terrorist attack, is you first get a big number, those killed immediately or shortly after the attack, and then there are a few more wounded who don't make it. Basically, there's a big number, and then a small adjustment. Something like... first hearing about the 10 immedaite casualties of an attack, then the number is adjusted to 12 or 13 in the following hours, or days. But here, the jump in the number of dead from 10 to 22 told me we're not in the "small adjustment phase" yet. We're still in the "counting the initial big number phase."
That was so hard, because 22 was already hard to deal with. Up until Oct 7, if I remember correctly, we had lost 38 people in 2023 to Palestinian terrorism. That was already considered the bloodiest year in terms of terrorism victims since the second intifada. People were already grieving, asking questions about what was going on, talking about how the renewal of certain (American) funding to Palestinians (such as the Palestinian Authority's Pay for Slay program) was causing this surge in murderous activity, and what can be done to change the situation. To lose 22 people in one day meant that the number of 2023 terrorism victims was almost doubled already... and we were not yet done counting our dead. The grief and loss of almost 9 months and change almost doubled in a day... and it was likely about to grow.
The number of dead kept rising. We jumped from 22 to 50. From 50 to 100. Then 200. Still no sign of getting to the "small adjustment phase" and it was hard to breathe with every new update. We got to 300, and it was almost unbearable. Then 450. A jump of 150 dead. There was no way to process it, no way to really comprehend it, and the worst was always that the jumps in numbers between updates meant we're still in the "counting the initial big number phase." Somewhere after 600 and before the next update, I realized from an interview (nothing official, just the implication of what one person, who was in the know, said) that it was not going to be less than 1,000 people killed. And I no longer felt like I could contain any of it. The horror, the grief, the shock, the struggle to comprehend that this is real, and not the worst nightmare I've ever had.
At least 1,200 people were murdered during Hamas' massacre. It's been over 3 months, and when I write that I didn't know how to contain everything I was feeling back then, I still don't. So you might think, what's 24 people in comparison to 1,200 dead? But that's not how it works. The death of one person does not pale in comparison with the death of the many.
When I work on Holocaust research, and I work on the testimony of one Jewish girl, who had to watch her father being beaten in front of her eyes by Nazi-collaborating Italian fascist soldiers in a concentration camp in Libya, in northern Africa, when I try to process what the murder of just one parent, just one person means to her, I know it's the destruction of her whole world. It doesn't lessen the pain, that the number of Jewish Holocaust victims outside of Europe is "just" in the thousands, while in Europe it's in the millions. One death can in itself be impossible to bear.
And here's the thing. Those deaths and their impact accumulate. We didn't just learn today that we lost 24 soldiers. We lost 24 worlds (because as the Jewish saying goes, "He who kills one person, it's as if he killed the entire world, and he who saves one person, it's as if he saved the whole world," Mishna Sanhedrin 4.5) and we lost them as a part of now over 220 soldiers we lost in this war (see below a map of Israel with a red dot for every place where at least one soldier was killed), which was forced upon us with the murder and destruction of over 1,200 worlds, which comes after 75 years of a conflict we didn't want, in which we lost 28,000 worlds, and that followed a genocide in which we lost at least 6,000,000 worlds, and that in itself is the peak of almost two thousand years of persecution, during which the full and total number of Jews lost, of worlds destroyed just because of antisemitism, will never be known. All I know is that the Jews we know today, we're not the Jewish people. We are what's left of the Jewish people. And we will live. Am Yisrael Chai. Always. In the face of countless attempts at our destruction, we're still here. But we remember them all. Every single soul lost. Every world destroyed. Every child that had been murdered, every child that will never get to be born. We have lost 24 worlds today, and the fact that we have lost so many before, only makes the loss worse.
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And we would not have lost a single person in the fighting in Gaza if we had actually been guilty of the crimes they accuse us of. We could have wiped out all of Gaza from the air, without risking the life of a single soldier on the ground. Every one of the Israeli soldiers killed, died to protect Israelis, as well as to save Palestinian civilians.
The way I feel right now, I think about the words of one member of Kissufim who I heard today: "We are broken, but strong."
May the memory of those lost be a blessing, every single one of them, every Jewish person, and non-Jew killed for standing with Jews, in every generation.
You're all still with me, I carry all of you in my heart, always.
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(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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taahko · 2 months
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I just found your blog today can you please explain or point out a post that explains the MASH timeloop thing? I love the show but I've never heard anyone talk abt it that way before
oh yay hurray ive been waiting for an excuse to talk about this lmao sorry this is long
ok so basically maeve (my gf) and i started watching mash for the first time about a month ago and we started joking about it being like the characters were stuck in a time loop mostly because the same basic episode format is repeated over and over, because it's a sitcom from the 70s and the episodes arent meant to be watched en masse where you can start noticing all the little repetitions and plot holes and inconsistencies that naturally occur in longform tv
but then i started to pay attention to the dates being mentioned in the show - famously the korean war never technically ended, but american troops were involved in active on the ground fighting between 1950 and 1953, so the entire 11 seasons of mash have to be squeezed into that three year period. with 251 episodes occurring within 1,129 days, that gives every episode about 4.5 days of real time. so it works right? no time loop right? well wait a sec
for the first 5 seasons or so of mash they give very consistent dates about when things are happening. for example, bj arrives in korea in september of 1952, at the start of season 4. colonel potter arrives about a week after him, and talks about how he has 18 months left before his retirement. that gives us about 7 months for the shows final 7 seasons to take place in, meaning that by the episode 'point of view' in season 7 we should be around december of 1952. in that episode the pov character starts writing a letter home and in the corner he writes the date:
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september of 1951. ok, could be that this episode isn't meant to take place in the regular timeline of the season - maybe for some reason its just like, a random flashback episode. but bj, charles, and potter are all present, even though none of them got to korea until 1952. now i KNOW that this is not like, the True Hidden Secret Lore of MASH, this is the writers realizing they were running out of road and turning back the clock a bit to accommodate for how long the show was running on. but play in my time loop space with me please
more talking points:
consistent jokes about time zones and how difficult it is to call the states because "our today is their yesterday but if you call them now it might not reach them until our tomorrow and by that point our yesterday will be their today"
hawkeye's increasing mania over the seasons and his conviction that the war will never end, comparing the camp to dante's inferno multiple times. maeve once pointed out that the closer hawkeye comes to realizing that he's trapped in a time loop the closer he gets to being institutionalized - and what does the series finale cold open onto ? hawkeye in a mental institution. the only way out is to lose yourself etc. sidenote frank also escaped the time loop by going insane and getting institutionalized
in a war for all seasons bj potter and charles are all present at the 1951 new years party as well as the 1952 new years party
there are three christmas episodes, two of which bj is present for even though he should only have spent one christmas in korea
details of people's families and lives shift around - sometimes potter's got multiple grandchildren, sometimes he only has one, sometimes its a girl, sometimes its a boy, sometimes she's 5, sometimes he's 2
we're not the first people to talk about this either, here's a good video compilation posted a couple yrs ago of time loop moments
overall ive been using the time loop thesis to add another layer to my mash viewing experience. it increases the already present sense of constant dread, anger, frustration, and disgust with their situation that the characters feel, plus it feels like a very poignant take on the united states' constant warmongering and violent existence. it really never ends, it just goes on an on. the future's been canceled by the war department- we're just gonna replay the past.
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wooahaes · 4 months
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dream a little dream with me
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pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader
prompt: soulmate au series. 9/13
word count: 4.7k~
warnings: skinship. food mentions. some slight angst.
daisy’s notes: oh to have a soulmate i meet with in my dreams...
summary: Jeonghan knows you. He might not know your face, but you’re the person in his dreams every night. And frankly… he’s pretty sure he’s already falling for you. He just has to figure out how to find you when the world won’t let him trade names or locations or anything he can actually use. At least he knows your favorite things…
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"Hello...?"
Jeonghan was maybe thirteen when he finally met you for the first time, and you'd already proven him wrong with your existence alone. When he had turned ten, he expected to feel... something. To lose all the colors within his vision, or maybe he would feel your pain or something physical. A name, your first thoughts, your first words... Except he felt nothing. It'd upset him, sure--most people were upset by that kind of thing just on the account of being considered an outsider to their peers. Yet now he'd found himself in a museum filled with paintings he couldn't fully make out, and surrounded by people with blurry faces... Except for you.
He'd blinked. "Hello?"
And you lit up, making your way over to him. "You're...?"
Jeonghan had furrowed his brow, watching you carefully. Why could he see you...? "I'm Jeonghan," he had said, thinking that was what you meant.
You'd given him your given name, too--last name melting into white noise for a second. For a moment, you stood there, brimming with excitement. "We're--We're soulmates."
Immediately, he'd felt lighter at the revelation. "Oh!" Then he paused, brows drawing together once more as a follow-up thought pushed into his head immediately. "Why haven't we met before?"
He'd seen the way you grew more upset, gaze no longer meet his own. "I'm... It's complicated." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "I think... Our sleep schedules don't overlap?" You looked up. "I laid down to take a nap for a bit because I was feeling sick, so..."
So you weren't near him. He felt a sting of rejection, even though you hadn't said anything of the sort.. Emotions were weird at thirteen, after all, and something like his soulmate not being near him. Obviously, it wasn't your fault: you didn't pick where you lived. He looked around, and felt... awkward. It was different than meeting someone for the first time in reality. At least other people were around. Now, it just you and him in this dream together.
"Do you wanna talk?" He said after a moment. "Since... I don't know if I'll get to see you again."
"You aren't mad?"
He shook his head. "I just wish you were closer," he crossed his arms. "This isn't fair."
You frowned. "It's not... So let's talk."
The two of you strolled on your own, getting to know one another. He learned the country you were from, even though he wouldn't know what city or town you were in. He learned about this doughnut place in your hometown, though, that you loved to visit when you could. He told you school stories and about his own friends, about the pranks he'd pulled on his little sister... Little things to learn about one another. He learned your favorite color, you learned the foods he disliked...
And then all too soon, you had disappeared within seconds. He had called for you, only to realize that you must have woken up--or been woken up, since it was so sudden. When he woke up the next morning for school, he told his parents that he'd met his soulmate in his dreams (even though he couldn't fully remember your face once he was awake).
Thus began the cycle. He probably needed the naps he would start taking in an attempt to meet you again, but he'd grown used to pushing through his fatigue to work on schoolwork or to spend time with friends. Yet his parents always knew where he'd be when they came home from work, finding him asleep on his bed as he hoped to meet you again.
Sometimes it worked. Sometimes he could sit with you for a little while, long enough to see you off before you woke up for your own schooling. Other times, he'd get home far too late to see you. But every time the two of you met over the rest of your teenage years, you made it work. The two of you would talk more about yourselves, getting to know each other better. He learned how to tell when you were upset, and would let you vent if you needed to. You'd given him a space to talk freely about his own feelings, too: the things that made him happy, or the things that were worrying him in real life...
Most people didn't know about his 'other' life in his dreams. The one where the two of you would go on walks in a city, sometimes holding hands. He'd slowly begun to fall for you over time, realizing that the care you showed him was sweet. The two of you had been strangers years ago, and now he understood maybe that was why the two of you were soulmates.
When he tried to kiss you around eighteen, you stopped him.
"I wanna kiss you for real," you said to him, holding his hands. "I know it's unfair to ask you to wait for me, but--"
"I will." He hadn't hesitated. Although he had kissed a girl once before (he was fifteen, and he realized after he did it that he'd much rather be kissing the person in his dreams) and told you so, he'd held off on dating. He wanted to experience things with you.
You'd squeezed his hands. "You don't have to."
Were you rejecting him...? What if he started dating someone and he loved them more than he already loved you? Part of him felt like he knew he would leave that person if he met you face-to-face, and yet... That meant he would hurt someone else. He'd heard stories about soulmates who left partners to be with one another, and while they were happy, the people left behind grew to resent them. Could he really do that to another person?
"You don't want me to?" He'd pulled his hands from yours, feeling the tiny sting in his chest.
You shook your head. "No, I--I just don't want you to wait around for me forever. What if we never meet?"
But what if we do? Jeonghan felt his heart sink in his chest. "We will," he said. Jeonghan never considered himself a hopeless romantic, but he had the naivete of a eighteen-year-old on his side. "I'll find you. I promise."
Before you could say something, you had begun to fade again. You were waking up. "Jeonghan--"
And then you were gone.
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The first person Jeonghan had told about you was one of his college roommates, Joshua. He'd been listening to the way he'd been venting about how he felt he was annoying his soulmate whenever he sang, and waited until Seungcheol left for class to finally admit it out loud. He'd tell Seungcheol, too, soon: he just... needed to do it at his own pace. Both of his roommates seemed like good people who wouldn't judge him, but he'd already decided. Joshua first, and then Seungcheol. Deciding on that had made it easier, especially since Seungcheol was the busier of the two.
"My soulmate and I share dreams," he had said, pushing around the noodles in his ramyeon cup.
Joshua looked up. "Oh. Really?"
He nodded. "We talk whenever we can. It's hard. They're not from here. Depending on when I take a nap, I can either talk to them for a while or just ten minutes..."
"It sounds hard," Joshua nodded along. He'd sat backwards in his chair, leaning against the back of it with his chest, arms folded over the top. "So what are you doing to find them?"
Jeonghan said nothing.
"... Aren't you going to look for them?"
Jeonghan's gaze flickered up from his food. "I don't know. I don't know if they actually want to be found."
"That's--"
"We talked about it last time we met, a little over a year ago." He pushed around noodles more, never actually eating. "I'm in love with them. I don't know how they feel, although they said they'd rather kiss me for real when we meet. Then they said not to wait for them."
"It sounds like they're in love with you, too," he said.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "Then why tell me not to wait?"
"Well... They're not from here." Joshua rested his chin on his arms. "Maybe they don't want you to feel like you can't date or anything."
"Don't you think I've tried it before?" Jeonghan looked up. "After they said that, I tried to move on, and I spent the entire time comparing her to my soulmate. She's not them."
Joshua frowned. "Dude... If you spend the entire time comparing, them, you're not going to be happy--"
"I know that." Jeonghan let out a sigh. "I just... I tried being with other people. She wasn't the only girl I tried to date--or see at all." They're just my soulmate, and I realized how much I love them every time I try to be with someone else. But would Joshua understand that...? Or would he just sound over-dramatic for someone he'd never met in person?
"I... see." Joshua looked off. "I guess it's different when you know your soulmate."
Jeonghan softened a little when he saw the guilt on Joshua's face. "It's fine," he said. "I just... I wish I could go to them. I don't know where they are, exactly, and it's not like I can go find them."
Can't you? He pushed away the thought. The world was big. .He couldn't just go out and find you--at least, not without looking like a creep. As much as he wished he could just let go of that desire deep within him to be with you, even temporarily, he just couldn't. Not when he'd gotten to know you so deeply. He felt as though a part of him would always be with you now, and that he carried you with him wherever he went.
Joshua understood, though. He listened, and he gave Jeonghan his thoughts whenever he asked for him. Seungcheol would eventually do the same, once Jeonghan told him about his soulmate. Seungcheol hadn't shown any offense to not being told (it was Jeonghan's business, after all). And in the moments in-between, Jeonghan was with you in some way--either thoughts preoccupied with you or in the fleeting moments of sharing a dream space.
"I kissed someone," you confessed at one point. Jeonghan had been sitting underneath a tree with you, fashioning a flower crown out of the little yellow blossoms that littered the ground around him. You craned your neck to look at him, "Are you mad...?"
He shook his head. "Do you like this?"
At first, you didn't move, and he felt his heart falter. "I dunno," you confessed a moment later. "I feel like... Every person I meet, I keep comparing them to you. Like... Hannie would laugh at this joke. Or Hannie would think this. It's like... I can't get you out of my head."
His heart skipped a beat this time as he stared at you, his face growing redder by the second. "... Really?"
"I... I dunno. It's just--I don't want you to think I'm some sort of loser when we meet."
When. Not if. "So you want to find me?"
He saw the way you grew more flustered, eyes landing anywhere but him as you pushed yourself up so that you were sitting. "Yes. Are you mad?" You finally met his gaze. "I mean... I think I hurt you before. When I told you not to wait for me? And we never talked about it, so..."
Jeonghan set the flower crown into his lap, reaching out to cup your cheek. "I'm not mad," he said softly. "Not anymore."
"So you were mad."
He nodded a little after a moment. "At first..." He drew his hand back, shifting over so that he could sit closer to you. "At first I was hurt," he said, "because I thought you didn't want to find me. And... And I really wanted to kiss you, so I thought you were rejecting me, and.. I talked to my friends about it and they told me that it was alright to feel hurt, but that I was making assumptions about how you felt. So..." He dropped his hand down, pressing his palms into the grass. "How do you feel?"
"I've always wanted to meet you," you said outright. "But... I was talking to a few friends, and they kept asking questions about where you lived, and whether we'd get the chance to meet. It felt kinda mean," you moved closer, pressing your back against the tree, so that you could sit next to Jeonghan. "Like... They don't get a guarantee that they'll meet their soulmates. What makes us different?"
"Well, we know each other," he said, hand slipping into your own. "It's easier to accept things if you don't know your soulmate."
"I guess," you nodded along. "But... I dunno, it just made me anxious that we'd never be able to find each other."
"We will," Jeonghan said softly. "We'll make it work. I want to try."
Your hand curled around his, squeezing it tighter. "I want to try, too," you said, firm in what you were committing to. "Hannie?" You paused for a moment, "Jeonghan...? I want to be with you. I know we've never met in person, but can we...?"
He nodded. "Yes," he breathed out, reaching his other hand up to turn your face toward him. "May I...?"
You closed the distance between the two of you. It left him wondering if your lips would be this soft in reality. The last thing he heard was the sound of you saying his name, about to say something else when he found himself back in his couch, heart racing in his chest. He had jolted forward, fully awake out of nowhere, enough that it alerted Joshua and Seungcheol. The two were sitting at their little dinner table when they turned to see Jeonghan.
"... Bad dream?" Joshua called out.
Jeonghan just bolted to his bedroom, shutting himself in as he processed what all just happened. You kissed him. You wanted to be more. You wanted to find him.
And, fuck, he was going to do anything to find you now.
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Most people gave Jeonghan weird looks when he explained his relationship to them. Yes, he hadn't met you in real life yet. No, it didn't really do anything to the relationship--it limited your dates, sure, but you had fun manipulating the dreamscape together to go wherever you wanted to go. Amusement parks with no waits for the rides, or this little cafe in your hometown, or a lovely park at night that Jeonghan walked through alone and wished you were there with him in reality. There were plenty of downsides, sure--neither of you could taste the food that you were eating, or feel the wind on your face--but you made it work and resolved to live these out once you found your way to each other. Sometimes people tried to challenge him: how could he have a relationship entirely with someone in his dreams? Didn't he miss the physical contact?
Which... The answer was a resounded 'yes,' but also it was none of their business. The two of you made it work, end of story. He'd eventually had a friend circle that accepted his relationship with his soulmate, although he'd become insistent that (when Seungkwan met his soulmate) his experience didn't count. That the two of you had agreed that your 'day one' of your relationship would be the day that you met face to face, just to make it easier to pin down a date. Everyone else had a date they could use as an anniversary, and you... Well, you and Jeonghan were different.
Although things had changed years later. All he knew at first was that he went to sleep one night, and you were there.
"... Jeonghan?"
And he'd stared at you, your name slipping from his mouth as he rushed over to you. "Are you sick again?" He frowned. "Honey, I wish I could be there to--"
"No, I... I moved. Remember?"
Right. You... You told him that you were moving for a job opportunity. It'd saddened him a little in the moment because both of you knew it'd make meeting harder, and yet all of that seemed to fade away in an instant.
"So you're...?" He didn't want to speak it aloud. What if it weren't true? What if...?
You nodded slowly. "I think... I'm closer," you said. "I'm in--"
The next few words seemed to dissolve into nothing, like his brain refused to register them. Jeonghan took your face into his hands, tears wetting his cheeks as he shook his head. Why can't it just work? Why can't their connection just let them have this now? You were closer to him. That should mean that the two of you can freely talk, and yet all he could hear was muffled words that he couldn't make out at all.
"We can't," he said, "we'll just... We'll have to find a way without saying names."
It broke his heart every time he saw you cry, and this time was worse. You nodded, though, hands coming up to hold his. "We'll find a way," you said. "Saturdays. I'll... I'll wait for you somewhere." Another name became muffled when you spoke it aloud, and you loudly swore as you broke away from him. "Coffee," you said, turning to him. "I'll... I'll always go to the same place near--" Again, your voice cut out. "Fuck--Just start looking, and--and we'll figure it out if it doesn't work."
"You'll stay there?" He watched you carefully. "All day?"
An eager nod, motivated by how close the two of you were now. "All day. Every Saturday until I find you."
And so it began.
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Jeonghan... truly underestimated how many coffee places existed in this fucking city. But he went out every Saturday morning and spent hours upon hours searching for you. For months, that search came up empty. Joshua had offered to help, but Jeonghan turned both he and Seungcheol (and everyone, for that matter) down. He needed to find you himself. Maybe it was hubris, or maybe it was because he wanted to be the first one to meet you... He wasn't exactly sure anymore. A mix of both, perhaps. You could meet his friends in time, but Jeonghan didn't want anyone else to see you in person before he did. He'd known you this long. He'd been with you this long. He needed to be the first one to see you.
Three months ago, Chan met his soulmate. How much longer would it take for Jeonghan to find you? He approached the last place on his list for today, night having already fallen upon him. Maybe he'd change places with you, and have you running around looking for him. He'd try to pick somewhere more niche, though, just to make it easier on you. Jeonghan tucked his hands into his jacket pocket, staring down at his phone as he followed the directions to this place. It was a little out of the way, but maybe if he made it in time, he'd be able to swing by the bigger place not far from there. It closed earlier, sure, but it usually had way more foot traffic from what he could tell.
The thought that had been haunting him hit him again: would you even like him when you saw him in person? It'd been something stupid that popped into his head one Saturday a month ago, but it still shook him a little more than he expected. He'd seen you in so, so many dreams; he'd been with you, dating you, and yet it felt like there was a degree of separation. Those were his dreams with you, this was the real world where other people would get in the way. Where he couldn't just go to that cafe in your hometown with you, giggling about a silly joke one of you cracked, without having to travel to get there. He'd confessed his fears to Joshua once day, and Joshua had just stared at him.
"But you're in love with them."
"I know, but what if they don't love me once they see me?" Jeonghan had been curled up on Joshua's couch that night, a blanket draped around him. He toyed with the edge of it, fingers curling around the plush material. "It's different, I think."
Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god. You're so stupid."
"Hey--"
"Jeonghan." Joshua turned, entirely serious as he leaned in, "They love you, dumbass. I know your dreams are magical or whatever, but they still like being with you. You told me they trust you enough to cry on you and tell you about how bad work was, or about friend troubles, or enough to just say they need to cry because of stress. If things change when they see you, they weren't really in love with you. Dreams are whatever--you're still you."
Jeonghan had said nothing at first, letting the words sink in. Then when he looked up, he saw Joshua looking off into the distance, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "They're singing, aren't they?"
Joshua cracked a smile. Jeonghan knew him well enough. "It's quiet," he said, "but... Yeah. They are."
Jeonghan knew that while Joshua was the one who sang more often in his relationship, he truly loved whenever his soulmate would sing. He knew that Joshua had told them that, and they chose to indulge him in it a little more often. Jeonghan should take a video or a picture of this and send it to them: you broke your soulmate, btw, come get him. Then again... Joshua definitely had ammunition of his own. Videos of times where Jeonghan had woken up in a pleasant mood because he'd gone on a date with you yet again, always ending with Joshua telling the camera that he was ready for the two of you to meet already.
At the end of the street on the left. Jeonghan had begun to hurry at this point, already feeling his heart sinking in his chest. No. No, no, no, fuck--The lights were out, and no one was inside despite the website saying that this place stayed open for another two hours. There had been a piece of paper taped up on a window that said something about one of the coffee machines breaking down and causing a big enough mess that they'd have to close for the night. Shit. What if this had been the one? What if you were inside when the coffee machine broke, spraying hot coffee everywhere? What if you had been burned? Jeonghan wanted to kick himself for not getting here sooner, but he looked at the other shop that closed in less than ten minutes. Fuck. Next Saturday for sure. Maybe that would be the one.
He did what he always did. He called Joshua, and told him that, yet again, he had failed to find you.
"Aw. I'm sorry, dude," Joshua had said. "Are you sure you don't want us to help out?"
Before Jeonghan could respond, Seungcheol had spoken up, "We will! Just tell us where to go, and we'll find them. There's too many places for you to do it on your own. Stop being stubborn about this."
Jeonghan chuckled softly, glad that he had friends who cared so deeply about him. "No, it's fine. We'll find each other soon. I can feel it. We'll talk about it tonight and see if they can give me any details."
Of course, you hadn't before. Whatever was keeping the two of you from finding each other made sure of that. But they didn't need to know how many failed attempts Jeonghan had made at this point.
"Are you sure?" Seungcheol sighed. "I just don't want you to feel like you need to do this alone. We're all here for you. If you say the word to Seungkwan--"
Another warm chuckle. "He'll storm every shop himself," Jeonghan said. "That's why I haven't told anyone else yet. You know Mingyu would go out searching without telling any of us."
"You sound exhausted," Joshua spoke up after a moment. "Want one of us to pick you up?"
"I'll just take the bus. I think I'll plan my next move during the ride." Jeonghan tucked his other hand back into his pocket. He needed the time to lick his wounds and pick himself back up, too. "Maybe... I'll figure out a new plan."
"Just call me if you change your mind," Seungcheol said. "Get home safely."
"I will," Jeonghan said, and ended the call. He shoved his phone into his pocket, and let out a sigh.
Okay. Another failed Saturday. Jeonghan wouldn't lose hope, though: he'd find you soon enough. It wouldn't be as soon as he planned, but he would find you, and he would kiss you, and he'd never let anything tear the two of you apart like this ever again. Even with work trips and vacations and whatnot, Jeonghan would be happy to see your face again outside of his dreams.
The bus had slowed to a stop, and Jeonghan climbed on before taking a seat near the back. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by once the bus had lurched forward again. If the two of you could pick something less common, maybe you'd find one another sooner. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by as his eyelids began to droop. Next Saturday. He hugged himself tighter. Next Saturday would be the day. He had to find you then. Or maybe it was time to let his friends help him find you. What was the point of being stubborn about it all when he was taking away days he could be falling in love with you all over again?
"Hello...?"
He must have dozed off on the bus again, the sound of your voice making him open his eyes.
"Hey, sorry to bother you, but when's your stop?"
You must have been teasing him again. "Wherever you want it to be," he said, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they always do. It was always easy to say such things to you. He looked up, and pauses, mind fuzzy for a moment. "Sorry, I thought you were my..."
And then it's clear. There you stood in front of him, one hand gripping the seat next to him and the other on the one in front of it. Your eyes widened as realization hit you, and Jeonghan was already rising out of his seat. The bus driver yelled something back at the two of you, but Jeonghan wasn't listening. And it seemed like you weren't, either.
"Good morning, Hannie," you teased lightly, already smiling at him.
Jeonghan only leaned in, thrilled that you closed the distance between the two of you. He cupped your face in his hands, nose brushing against yours as he tasted something sweet on your lips. Tea, he thought, or maybe some sort of dessert involving matcha or something. Your body was warm underneath his touch and so much more real than he'd ever dreamed of. But what about you? Did he live up to your dreams?
"I love you," he said softly when he drew back. Emotions surged in his chest: relief, joy, love. The freedom of no longer having to search for you crashed over him in waves, and he felt himself tear up. He roughly wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffling as he tried to hold back now. This wasn't how he wanted either of you to remember your first meeting, with him about to sob.
Yet all it took was seeing you cry for him to break, pulling you into his arms as he held you tight. The bus driver yelled back again, and he just reached back frantically, pressing the button to signal for the two of you to get off as soon as you could. And he left with you, hand in hand, as the two of you stepped out underneath the stars, already falling in love with one another all over again.
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taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny
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chainmail-butch · 6 days
Text
A Speech For the Colonist.
It is my opinion that communist movements within the US fail because they refuse to address decolonization.
It is my further opinion that the contradiction between colonizer and colonized supercedes the contradiction of class. The Native American Nations are colonized, Black people are colonized, Hispanic people are colonized. Colonization is the key to white supremacy and white supremacy is the key to class within the United States and Canada.
If you talk to most white communists about decolonization within the United States you'll get things like, "Well, decolonization will come with the revolution because we'll give the people the autonomy and resources they need to care for their communities." This is the exact same rhetoric that alienated black revolutionaries from the American Communist Party in the 60s. "Under communism every worker will have what he needs and be able to give according to his means, so we don't need to worry about race."
Comrade, we do. We do need to worry about race. We cannot simply wish a reality away because in our minds Everyone Will Be White in a communist society.
We need to acknowledge the fact that every single White Person within the United States, and the rest of the Americas for that matter, is a colonist. Our institutions are colonial. Our industry is colonial. Our cities are colonial. Our infrastructure is colonial. Our lawns are colonial. Every single aspect of our lives has its roots in colonization.
We still plunder the earth like we're sending silver and timber back to England and Spain.
By pretending that we are not colonists we make it impossible to address the ways in which we colonize. By ignoring the ways in which we colonize we fail to address the ways in which we are imperialist. By failing to address our imperialism we fail address capitalism.
We are colonists. Pretending that this isn't the case doesn't make it any less reality.
You'll acknowledge the fact that we live on stolen land but would you hand Seattle back to the Duwamish? Would you cede Delaware back to the Lenape? Would you take up arms, and then lay them down to a nation of people that are unlike you? Would you take up arms and lay them down again for a nation of people that you might not agree with politically? Have you confronted your fear that they would treat you just like we treat them?
For that matter, how have you addressed your conception of Black Nationalism? Any white communist will tell you that Nationalism as a concept is counter-revolutionary but how do you address the fact that there is an entire race of people who were ripped from their homes and forced to colonize another land? The solution certainly isn't Liberia, which is itself a colonial exercise.
How do you address the fact that any black person will tell you that a nation created for and by black americans would be a pretty good deal in their book? How do address the fact that our colonial nation isn't their nation and they know it? What do you do? Do you call them reactionary? Do you tell them that their desire for a home of their own is because we orphaned their ancestors and that they need to get over it?
Comrade, these are the questions you need to answer. You need to listen to the people we have colonized and you need to really observe our material conditions.
We live with the unique situation that, as a result of a vicious and often ignored genocide, the colonizers are the majority ethnic group within the colonized land. White people make up 57% of this country. And unlike other colonized regions, there's no France for us to return to. There's no England, there's no Belgium, there's no Netherlands, there's no Spain. The working class white is stuck here. It's up to us to address our own reality and to understand that, ultimately, no way and no how can we be the face of revolution within the united states.
No white led communist movement will prosper because, even now, we still have too much to lose. Our people will never start the fight as we are now. Understand that.
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pascaloverx · 4 months
Text
OUR SECRET — MYG
chapter three
Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.
Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.
PREVIOUS NEXT
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You wake up surprised, you didn't even remember falling asleep. Especially in the studio where you shouldn't even be. Yoongi is still sleeping while you are spooning. How did this happen?
"Let's stay like this for a little longer..." Yoongi murmurs, almost opening his eyes and you don't know how to react.
"And we get caught like this? Never. I have to find a way to get out of here before I cause problems." You respond, moving away from Yoongi. Of course you I wanted to stay in his arms but a scandal now would be harmful.Even though there's a bigger scandal still growing inside you.
"Then why are you here if you're afraid of being seen with me?" He asks almost as if he's offended. You laugh, seeing him get angry. How the tables turn. In the past he couldn't stand the idea of ​​us being caught together. Now he's angry at you for being cautious.
"Scared? Me?" You speak indignantly at your ex-boyfriend's accusation. Yoongi seems to forget that you are the one who loses the least if the public finds out about you two.
"You always revert to things like I'm the bad guy. I literally mean that I don't care if anyone sees us and you treat me like the villain." And then you think about how long all you wanted to hear from Yoongi was this. You wanted him to be proud of being your boyfriend.
"It's easy for you to believe that you want people to know about us now that the two of us are nothing. Nothing to each other. Nothing but..." You look at him as you're almost crying. It's now or never. Tell him about something that will change our lives.
"Don't say we're nothing. You could never be nothing to me." Yoongi caressed your face gently. It's as if his touch makes the sadness goes away.
"Yoongi, we will never be anything to each other because you and I. You and I..." You are about to speak and morning sickness hits you. You vomit into a trash can near Yoongi’s soundboard.
"You are sick? Maybe it's something you ate..." He says worriedly. You think it's cute that he cares.
"That's what I was talking about. You and I can't be anything to each other anymore. Because I'm going to be a mother and you're going to be a father." You speak delicately trying to be as gentle as possible by saying this.
"Is this some plan of yours?" It's the first thing the man who says he loves you says. You have a feeling he's not going to react well. So you get up heading towards the door, but Yoongi stops you from leaving.
"Before you say something you'll regret, I want to leave. Don't worry, I won't appear in front of you or demand anything." It's painful to think that this is what he wants from you but it probably is.
"You are pregnant?" He asks like someone who needs confirmation bigger to believe.
"Yes, I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby. Are you satisfied?" You ask, trying to hold back your emotions and not cry. He looks lost as if he doesn't know how to react. That's when you hear someone trying to enter the studio.
"I'm going to hide you in the bathroom and then ask Namjoon to take you home. But this, between you and me, isn't over." He whispers and you shiver. You nervously let yourself be guided by your ex-boyfriend, knowing that soon you and him will have a baby.
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fandomnerd9602 · 4 days
Text
Square Dance: Two Step
Country!Wanda x Male!Reader
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It all started when your best friend Pietro ‘Piet’ Maximoff invited you to leave the city for a week. He saw how much city life and work was wearing you down, how much you needed a detox from all of the stress and anxiety.
He picked you up in his pick up truck from your apartment on a Sunday morning. Piet was a track star in college, full ride, and your best friend / roommate. Now he works as a mechanic in his home town. He never really talked about home but he loved it.
“I promise, pal” your Southern accented friend told you, “you’re gonna love it. I’m taking you to the best watering hole in the area tonight.”
“Are you still trying to get me to settle down?” You laughed.
“I just wanna see my bud happy. A little tail can help that” he gives you a playful wink.
First things first he helped you drop off your stuff at the guest room in his modest two story homestead. “Sorry I can’t give you the master bedroom” he chuckled, “my traveling sister came back to town, she called dibs”
“I don’t mind.” You said with a shrug, “your sis deserves it” You never met Piet’s sister but you did know about their constant teasing due to having seen their text exchanges.
“Come on, bud” he said practically pulling you out the door. “Let’s live a little!”
You and Piet made your way to the local watering hole and dance hall. Didn’t take long for Piet to make the rounds and chat up a couple people.
“Does Crystal approve of you being here?” you asked your pal with a laugh.
“Speak of the angel and she’ll appear” he responded as his longtime girlfriend made her way towards the two of you. Didn’t take long for Piet and her to go to the dance floor.
The band took to the small stage a second later. The announcer made his way to the microphone.
“Evening fellas, ladies, please give a nice warm applause to our guest singer the Good Witch, Scarlett.”
And with that introduction, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen made her way to the microphone. Her confidence, the sort of kind way she carried herself, it made your heart beat fast.
“Howdy everyone” she said with a southern twang. “Glad to see so many familiar faces in the audience…”
Her eyes locked with yours. Her eyes looked at you with pure adoration. A small smile made its way across her face.
“And so new faces too” she gave you a little wink, “so let’s start shall we?”
Her keyboardist began playing a simple melody:
(Can Love Stand the Test - Don Henley & Bonnie Raitt)
Did I lose your love a long time ago
Or did I just wear it out? Baby, I don't know
Seems like anymore we're not on the same page
In the same book, or on the same stage
We say the words, but they feel all wrong
Like a happy blues, like a sad love song
How two people can bow and scrape
For every shred of tenderness
Can love stand the test
Of times that surround us
Memories that astound us
Joy and happiness
Can love stand the test?
Her eyes were locked on you. Did she feel some sort of connection to you, as you could feel with her? You hadn’t spoken a word and yet it was like you knew her somehow.
We said forever, for always, for good
But the years were not impressed
Can love stand the test
Of time that surrounds us
Moments that astound us?
Can love stand the test
Of time that surrounds us
Moments that astound us?
Joy and happiness
Joy and happiness
Joy and happiness
The audience cheered as the song ended. The mystery singer offered a humble little bow. “Alright” she said with a giggle, “who’s ready for a little square dancing, huh?”
The crowd cheered and began asking for their own partners as the singer got off the stage and began making her own way towards you. Everyone else faded away, it was like it was only you and her in that entire watering hole.
“Howdy there” she flashed a gentle smile at you
“H-Howdy” you managed to answer back.
“You’re not from around here are ya?” her twang just made your heart flutter.
“No. I’m in town for a couple days”
“Well City Boy” she gave a little twirl in her hips, “do you wanna dance?”
“I-I got like two left feet” you said with a little embarrassment. She only giggled in response and took your hands.
“Don’t worry” she reassured you, “just follow my lead”
You and this amazing gal danced a couple square dances together that night. Time seemed to blur, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper into what felt like love. You could spend an eternity on that dance floor with her and it wouldn’t feel like enough time with her.
The way she smiled those pearly whites at you. The way her reddish brown hair bounced. The way she looked at you with those emerald green eyes that made your heart beat practically out of your chest. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about someone so fast.
Sadly the song came to an end. She offered you a quick bow and a tip of her own hat to you. “Ya know” she smiled at you, “you sure can dance, city boy”
“You’re not too bad yourself, ma’am” you complimented her back.
“How long you in town for?” She drew a little closer to you.
“A week, maybe a little longer”
“That’s an awful long time” she wrapped her arms around your neck, yours wrapped around her waist.
“M-my name’s Y/N”
She offered a gentle, sincere smile, “my name’s-”
“Wanda?” Piet spoke up, staring in shock at you and the gal before you. She gave a slightly embarrassed tip of the hat to Piet.
“Hey bro” Wanda said to Piet
“I see you met my bud Y/N” Piet said.
“He’s a great dancer” she answered back, giving you a gentle smile.
Part of you was horrified. Another part of you was on cloud nine. Your life was supposed to be structured, not on a whim. And yet here you were. Not only had you fallen in love on your first night out of the city, you had fallen for your best friend’s sister.
To Be Continued…
Tags: @lifespectator @aloneodi @deafeningsharkslimeempath @iamnicodemus @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7
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pupyuj · 7 months
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either way yujin makes me feel so many things like she looks so gay filipina with a big ass cock coded with that hair like??? couldn't stop thinking about how good she'd be in bed specially when she's mad??? or jealous??? the normally sweet little puppy, now so fucking angry, she could ruin your cunt just by fucking it with her thick cock. ☹️
and can i just say... “hm, basang basa ah? putang puta ka para sa tite ko.” while laughing and slapping your tits. ☹️
🫀
okay terribly sorry for my non-filo followers cuz i'm gonna be mumbling some tagalog nonsense here yujin drives me crazysdbskddhk—
LISTEN... yujin is very filipina-coded to me IM SORRY LIKE she's your perverted, tambay-sa-kanto gf idk how else to explain it!! hand always on your ass, has no shame groping your tits in public IN FRONT OF PEOPLE, and never hesitates to pull you into her lap and press your ass against her bulge??? to everyone else, the two of look sickeningly sweet as they watched yujin whisper to you with a big grin,, but they don't know that she's berating you 😭😭
"letting me do this in front of our friends.. hindi ka na ba nahiya?" mmdjfdhks her hand nearly between your thighs and everything,, everyday you wonder how people never see all the things she does to you in public,,, at one point, she has literally fingered your cunt from behind through your shorts while huddled up with your friends watching a teleserye and standing outside a sari-sari store sdkhcskji,,
LITERALLY FUCKS YOU WHILE SHE'S TALKING TO HER MOTHERRR???? like you're in her room ofc but she's got you sat on her lap facing the door, fingers deep inside your cunt,, grins so widely while she watched you covered your mouth,, bcs her mother saw you as her daughter's sweet, innocent girlfriend (everybody did),,, what would she say if she heard you?? ☹️ "opo, ma!! we're coming down soon," yujin yells loud enough for her mother to hear outside the door,, and then she leans into your ear, laughing like the annoying piece of shit that she isnbdskdfhc,, "you're gonna come, right? right? huh? bilisan ko ba, ha?" yujin keeps asking,, you really didn't wanna do anything that would make you lose control but fuck her fingers feel way too good that you have to nod and let yujin push you over the edge,,
and omggg the mad + jealousy thing... you're one hell of a catch so yujin can be a bit paranoid sometimes,, esp when she sees people talk to you with obvious interest and it definitely doesn't help that you're very friendly and a bit touchy with your friends sometimes,, usually, yujin takes it like a champ because she knows you would never cheat on her but other times she lets her jealousy take over her and oh yeah it gets intense in the bedroom..
"sobrang landi mo pala... i didn't know you were such a fucking whore, (y/n).. why don't you just go ahead and let yourself get fucked by all of them??" she's saying while pounding into your cunt so hard that her bed rocks against the wall??? thank goodness nobody was home.. you were to scream as loud as you wanted,,, "tangina.. d'you actually like this? fucking slut..."
hehahjshdj living in a barangay and being that loud??? yeah the two of you are definitely a hot topic within the chismosa groups 😭😭
ya'll this kinda sucked i got distracted ICBBBB I'M LOSING MY MAGIC .. YOU GUYS...
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