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gardenschedule · 2 days

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Perceptions of Paul as calculating & John's paranoia

“McCartney’s mistake, which he now admits, was to seem invulnerable. […] And yet, he says, the contrast between himself and Lennon, so assiduously cultivated by journalists, was a fabrication. “I wasn’t brilliant at school. I was trouble, just like John. I got caned practically every day, and the only exam I ever passed was Spanish. John and I weren’t black and white, although people took John, for all his aggression, to be the good guy, because he showed his warts. I’ve only just realized, after all this time, that people like to see warts. It makes them sympathetic. I’d always though that, in order to be liked, you had to be unwarty.””

Living with The Beatles’ legacy, the smears that Lennon left behind… and the battle to win my babies back, The Times Newspaper, Monday January 4, 1982.

Paul was the easiest to talk to. He had such energy and such keenness and, unlike John, enjoyed being liked, at least most of the time. I don't see this as a criticism; John himself could be very cruel about Paul's puppy dog eagerness to please. The irony was, and still is, that John's awfulness to people, his rudeness and cruelty, made people like him more, whereas Paul's genuine niceness made many people suspicious, accusing him of being calculating. Paul does look ahead, seeing what might happen, working out the effect of certain actions, but he often ends up tying himself in knots, not necessarily getting what he thought he wanted. I think there is some insecurity in Paul's nature, which makes him try so hard, work so hard. It also means he can be easily hurt by criticism, which was something that just washed over John.

Hunter Davies, Western Mail: The Beatles. (April 9th, 2004)

Even Paul’s immaculate manners could not thaw her. ‘Oh, yes, he was well-mannered–too well-mannered. He was what we call in Liverpool “talking posh” and I thought he was taking the mickey out of me. I thought “He’s a snake-charmer all right,” John’s little friend, Mr Charming. I wasn’t falling for it. After he’d gone, I said to John, “What are you doing with him? He’s younger than you… and he’s from Speke!”’ After that, when Paul appeared, she would always tell John sarcastically that his ‘little friend’ was here. ‘I used to tease John by saying “chalk and cheese”, meaning how different they were,’ she remembered, ‘and John would start hurling himself around the room like a wild dervish shouting “Chalkandcheese! Chalkandcheese!” with this stupid grin on his face.’

Philip Norman, Paul McCartney: The Life. (2016)

“He always suspected me. He accused me of scheming to buy over Northern Songs without telling him. I was thinking of something to invest in, and Peter Brown said what about Northern Songs, invest in yourself, so I bought a few shares, about 1,000 I think. John went mad, suspecting some plot. Then he bought some himself. He was always thinking I was cunning and devious. That’s my reputation, someone who’s charming, but a clever lad. “It happened the other day at Ringo’s wedding. I was saying to Cilia [Black] that I liked Bobby [her husband]. That’s all I said. Bobby’s a nice bloke. Ah, but what do you REALLY think Paul? You don’t mean that, do you, you’re getting at something? I was being absolutely straight. But she couldn’t believe it. No one ever does. They think I’m calculating all the time.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

In the wake of his death you didn’t tour for most of the ‘80s. People suggested that you were scared to go on the road. Was that true? No. People speculate about anything. They always credit me with motives I haven’t even dreamed of. It’s interesting, the way they sort of perceive my life and analyse it for me. In that case, I never thought about touring much. People used to say, “Oh, it’s 10 years since you’ve toured.” I’d go, “Is it? Y’know, I’m not counting.” That’s all that was, really. I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t fancy it.

The Q Interview, 2007

Astrid in Germany was always a bit suspicious of Paul at first, though his relationship with Stu was also bound up in this. 'It used to frighten me that someone could be so nice all the time. Which is silly. It's ridiculous to feel at home with nasty people, just because you feel that at least you know where you are with them. It's silly to be wary of nice people.'

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul is the easiest to get to know for an outsider, but in the end he is the hardest to get to know. There is a feeling that he is holding things back, that he is one jump ahead, aware of the impression he is giving. He is self-conscious, which the others are not. John doesn't care, either way, what people think. Ringo is too adult to think about such things, and George in many ways isn't conscious. He is above it all.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul today is still the public Beatle, giving interviews at fairly regular intervals, being open and honest about himself and his past, his worries and his pleasures. Naturally, as ever, there are people who suspect his motives, putting him down for being too charming. Paul may be a bit of an actor, acting the part of Paul McCartney, the charming superstar, still loved by every mum, which can make him sound rather prissy at times, but I believe he does tell the truth about himself.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

“My problem is to me, I come over as this very together guy, always got his finger on top of everything: the man with no problems. School – a doddle, got all the exams. This is the sort of image of me. Actually, I had murder getting through exams, like I was saying about being on tour during my GCEs. I was like the kid who was getting the cane. Just like John was, but he [Phillip Norman] makes me the very shrewd, always-going-to-succeed guy, and John is the kind of cute, working-class hero. In actual fact though, John was just as shrewd and ambitious as I was. What does me in is he adds to this image I’ve got; I resent that, because I know I’m not that, and I know I’ve never been that.

Paul McCartney’s thoughts from 1983 on Phillip Norman’s ‘Shout!’

The funny thing is, when Apple [started], everything was laid out on the table, it’s like a Monopoly game. We saw who had what. I suddenly had more Northern Song shares than anybody, and it was like, oops, sorry. John was like, “You bastard, you’ve been buying behind my back.” John saw everything like a Harold Robbins movie, you know, which it was. He’s not incorrect. I couldn’t get over the fact that we were really involved in all this. I think to this day, he’ll not understand. I don’t think he would accept right now, my naïveté in it. I think he still suspects me of trying to take over Apple. He still suspects that when I offered the Eastmans as [managers] instead of Allen Klein, he naturally assumed that I would be taken care of better than the others, and that the Eastmans could never be moral enough to be equal in their judgment and do the Beatles’ thing rather than Paul’s thing. I think they still suspect to this day.

The point I was trying to illustrate is that it wasn’t so much John being a bastard as it was his being suspicious towards me, always being suspicious towards me. There was Northern Song shares. And I swear on any holy book you want, I know he won’t believe it, but I know for sure that I didn’t buy them with the view to— If I was really trying to do it, I could have bought an awful lot more. So it does hurt a little bit that there’s someone who still thinks, like, I’m out to get them, or that I always was. That’s one of the nice things about it— It’s a pity [I never said to John, “Fuck off, I’m not trying to do it”—and never was]. But he knows I was kind of— We were behind the scenes, and we did a few little [things] that we had to do, and our ambitions, and it was never a kind of terrifying skeletons in the closet. It was always just normal—but, uh, they …

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

SG: Were the other Beatles anti-Linda? PMcC: Uh, yeah. I should think so. Like we were anti-Yoko. But you know John and Yoko, you can see it now, the way to get their friendship is to do everything the way they require it. To do anything else is how to not get their friendship. This is still how it is with John and Yoko. I know that if I absolutely lie down on the ground and just do everything like they say and laugh at all their jokes and don’t expect my jokes to ever get laughed at, and don’t expect any of my opinions ever to carry any weight whatsoever, if I’m willing to do all that, then we can be friends. But if I have an opinion that differs from theirs, then I’m a sort of an enemy. And naturally, paint myself a villain with a big mustache on, because to the ends of the earth, that’s how they both see me. They’re very suspicious people [John and Yoko], and one of the things that hurt me out of the whole affair, was that we’d come all that way together, and out of either a fault in my character, or out of lack of understanding in their character, I’d still never managed to impress upon them that I wasn’t trying to screw them. I don’t think that I have to this day.

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

I was never out to screw him, never. He could be a maneuvering swine, which no one ever realized. Now since the death he’s became Martin Luther Lennon. But that really wasn’t him either. He wasn’t some sort of holy saint. He was still really a debunker. “For ten years together he took my songs apart. He was paranoiac about my songs. We have great screaming sessions about them.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

SALEWICZ: Oh, he was presumably very paranoid. PAUL: I think so. I mean, he warned me off Yoko once. You know, “Look, this is my chick!” ’Cause he knew my reputation. I mean, we knew each other rather well. And um, I felt… I just said, “Yeah, no problem.” But I did sort of feel he ought to have known I wouldn’t, but. You know, he was going through “I’m just a jealous guy”. He was a paranoid guy. And he was into drugs. Heavy.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London)

Miles says, “I think Jane was always a bit irritated by John. Because he was so acerbic and difficult to get on with. And paranoid. He didn’t make life easy. I suppose it’s a sort of rapier wit, but it was usually just plain ordinary rudeness. There was nothing special about it.”

Paul McCartney profile for FAME Magazine (March 1990)

“They [Lennon & McCartney] saw each other again in 1977. The Lennons and McCartneys ate dinner together at Le Cirque, Paul’s favourite French restaurant in New York. John regretted going; it was a loathsome night. Paul and Linda blathered on and on about how perfect their lives were, how they had everything they’d ever wanted, and how they were as happy as they’d ever been. Something very paranoid suddenly occurred to John. Maybe Lorraine Boyle was spying on him for the McCartneys! He woke up the next morning still feeling disturbed; he consulted the Oracle. Swan assured him that Paul and Linda were frustrated and unsatisfied. Their marriage was in trouble, he said, predicting it would break up within the year. Lately Swan’s visions had been astonishingly accurate. Relieved, John began composing a song—a little ditty, really, that would never be released—in praise of the Oracle’s powers. But he still couldn’t understand why Paul and Linda had been together for as long as they had. There appeared to be a psychic connection between John and Paul. Every time McCartney was in town, John would hear Paul’s music in his head.”

Robert Rosen, Nowhere Man: The Final Days of John Lennon, (2000)

JOHN: […..] And he’s (Jagger) goin’ on about “he never calls. Do you think he ever calls? He never calls me. And he keeps changing his phone number all the time… And he’s hiding behind the kid.” I was hurt by it! You know… The fact that… A, I never call anybody. It’s not pride, it’s just that I never, ever have. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: I never call the other Beatles, I never call anybody. They always call me. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: Cos I’m self-involved! I’m paranoid, too. I don’t like phones… There’s nobody on this earth ever got a call from me that isn’t related, probably. Or a very old friend…

Sept 1980 – John

“Yoko was an extremist and was even more intense than John taking any idea or comment of his to the limit. If, for example, he complained about any of his fellow Beatles she would hint that that Beatle had always been an enemy implying that John should never deal with that person again. Her extreme positions fascinated John and help him take his mind off himself but when she became self-involved and paranoid herself -her paranoia usually dealt with her career, her fame and the fact that even though she had always been famous everyone conspired to keep her from getting even more famous- he had no place to turn. His insecurity about his solo career, his childhood, his relationships with the other Beatles, the way the public perceived Yoko overwhelmed him and he became more and more involved with drugs.”

May Pang, Loving John (1984)

John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.

Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)

Some three year later, during the making of Abbey Road, Lennon installed a twin bed in the studio so that Yoko, recuperating from a car crash, could survey proceedings and pass comment though a mike he had suspended over her. The other Beatles positioned themselves around the room as best they could. Yoko would later tell Paul that if, for any reason, he’d seemed to be standing too close to her, all hell would break loose when John got her home. Lennon, she said, was ‘very paranoid’ like that.

McCartney by Chris Sandford

But we were actually quite supportive. Not supportive enough, you know; it would have been nice to have been really supportive because then we could look back and say, “Weren’t we really terrific?” But looking back on it, I think we were okay. We were never really that mean to them. But I think a lot of the time John suspected meanness where it wasn’t really there.

Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chris Salewicz for Musician: Tug of war – Paul McCartney wants to lay his demons to rest. (October, 1986)

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #i wonder how much of their issues were due to john suspecting paul of things that just weren't true #then again maybe paul is secretly an evil mastermind #can't put it past him

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yasmeensh · 20 hours

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Book rant? Anthropology, apes, and racism discussion.

I started reading a book titled "Bonobo Handshake" by Vanessa Woods. I picked it up because a) I want to learn more about bonobos since my knowledge of them is minimal. b) the author had interacted with bonobos in person so it's an interesting perspective to read. c) the book had positive reviews.

I was not expecting the author to start off telling us about the 'discovery' of bonobos in this way.

W-what do you mean, in Belgium? The author makes it clear that bonobos live in Congo and she gives us a few examples of local bonobo lore. Meaning, people in Congo know the bonobos very well. Way to go to give a colonizer the credit??? wtf. In this perspective, she is letting us know THAT was the moment when Bonobos entered western science, which is true. But I was really hoping the author would give it a more holistic view than this, but it seems she really believes in this??? And let me tell you, from what I am picking up between the lines, she ONLY accepts western science. Here is an example:

This is the page that confuses me immensely. I don't know if she is trying to come off as sarcastic or not. She sets out for us that Takayoshi Kano is the star of Bonobo research, but in the next paragraph says there is no one studying Bonobos. "there was never a Jane Goodall or Dian Fossey for bonobos." UHM NO? YOU JUST SAID THERE WAS???

[highlighting and writing over a picture of the page (32) since it's a library book and I can't write on it.]

She says Japanese researchers are responsible for all we know on Bonobos, but then starts talking about de Waal's zoo discoveries in detail, and they seem pretty minor compared to Kano's work with wild bonobos. She did point out that scientists don't take de waal's observations seriously because it's from a zoo, but she doesn't remedy that by telling us if it can be supported by Kano's work or not when compared. Kano is ignored. He does have one book available in English, so it's not like we can't ever learn about what he observed. you said western mainstream media don't want to listen to a man who only spoke Japanese??? UHM. You are too??? Why did you jump to de waal? If it's a book about bonobos, then please give Kano a little spotlight and tell about his research. (I actually want to read Kano's book now but I can't find a borrowable copy of it. It's a complicated long loop to get one. But it's possible T-T!!!!)

I very much dislike her tone in 'oh it's the Japanese that tell us about bonobo'. It is as if no one is actually researching them at all. They are 'foreign' so it doesn't count. Meanwhile, if it's a white person's discovery, it is humanity's. But if it's someone else theeennnn well we are not sure if it's actually real :/ Not until a white person observes this can we really put this into humanity's archive of knowledge. Otherwise, whatever they learnt is not very important or worth talking about.

I'm not gonna drop the book, because it does get me thinking about stuff and that's what I read books for. I guess it reminds me of University days, of how irritated I get when we are assigned a problematic reading to pick apart and present to class. I hope I'm not picking this apart too much 😭 I'm not sure if I'm enraged and reading too much into it. I might be totally wrong. idk... I think I need to join an anthropology book club to have people to talk with about this. Only way for now is to share on the internet and maybe a discussion starts. Want to see what others think of this (especially if they read the book).

#anthropology #Bonobo Handshake #apes #bonobo #racism #reading #sorry I haven't posted are in a while. It's because.... I haven't drawn kdsjghsdkjgnsj #I do have a chimpanzee acrylic painting I'm working on slowly! but i've never worked with acrylic so it's just experiments #no sharing yet #and concept art for my story... that I am also not sharing yet.#well that's all. bye!

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salaimoi · 3 days

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talk to me nice or I'll cry, seriously ;ଓ

- 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘺 @𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘪 -

⋘…𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎...⋙

⤷what is this series about?

it consists of silly, random dialogue-packed, short interactions between reader and a JJK character :3

⤷victims of this series:

Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna (maybe Choso Kamo later on)

⤷how is this different from regular fics on tumblr?

the only difference is that these stories will be more dialogue than narration. maybe it’s bc I’m tired of narrating fics, but I’ve always wanted to read/create more stories where the characters interact directly with one another via words.

⤷why not just write drabbles?

I’m taking the easy way out by writing in this format. yes, you read that right. sometimes I picture a character saying/doing a certain thing in my head, but I don’t want to write a 500+ detailed fic about it. for me, personally, a drabble is too short for what I have in mind. at the same time though, a fic is too long

⤷can you make requests for this series?

not at the moment — since it is a brand new piece of work for me, I want to get used to it before I begin to accept requests. my ask-box will always remain open tho! so if you feel as if you need to submit a request you’ll probably forget later, do not hesitate to drop it there and I’ll get to it in due time. please be patient with me ! ^^

ೀ 🍨 ‧ ˚ 🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

now that that’s out of the way. every time I publish a new story, I will come back here to update it. all credits go to original creators — other than the gojo section, all pictures are from pinterest.

Gojo Satoru ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

⌗ rich boy activities .ᐟ where Gojo intends to transfer you all the money in his bank account for the sole purpose of receiving a compliment from you.

Fushiguro Toji 𓊆ྀི✰𓊇ྀི

⌗ 𝐒𝐭✰𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 .ᐟ where you shamelessly state that you’re going to get Toji pregnant, but he’s not having it with your weirdness today.

Ryomen Sukuna ★₊˚﹟🪐 '

⌗ coming soon to a theater near you .ᐟ

#by ioveartfilm #talk to me nice 𐙚🧸ྀི #I’m so nervous and for what #PISSING MY PANTS HELP #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #sukuna ryoumen x you #toji x reader #reader x sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #ongoing series

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raaorqtpbpdy · 2 days

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In Memory of Mom

Danny meets a strange, Spanish-speaking ghost wandering around Casper High. His Spanish isn't great, but he's pretty sure she's looking for her daughter.

For the Prompt: Danny encounters a strange spanish-only speaking ghost looking for Paulina Sanchez. Being a first year Spanish student, he only recognizes the words "mi hija" and hesitantly leads her to Paulina. It's Día de los Muertos, but because Paulina has been trying to fit in at school, and her papa remarried and doesn't want to make his new wife uncomfortable, they've fallen out of the habit of setting up the ofrenda and marigolds, leaving their mom/wife unable to find her way home. Paulina can't see or hear her, but Phantom can [From @dreamwraith]

Disclaimer: I am white, and I do not speak Spanish. It is with deepest regret that I must admit to using Google translate for the Spanish dialogue in this fic. If you notice any errors in the Spanish, or regarding Día de Muertos (which there might very well be, though I did do my research), please feel free to correct me. I can only do my best, and always appreciate the opportunity to do better.

Read also on AO3

[Warnings for past character death, and mentions of culture death]

Danny typically liked to have more than one day to recover after fighting Fright Knight every Halloween. Not to mention the numerous other ghosts who always had to come out on that stupid holiday to cause as much trouble as possible during the period of time when the barrier between the human world and the Ghost Zone was at it's thinnest.

Of course, Danny never got more than one day, but he would have liked to.

Luckily the ghost that showed during lunch period on November second didn't seem to be causing any trouble. In fact, it didn't seem like she was powerful enough to cause trouble, even if she wanted to. No one besides Danny even seemed to notice her, which at least meant she wouldn't be able to cause any serious damage, even if she tried.

She was speaking Spanish as she walked through the halls of Casper High, and turning her head this way and that as if she was looking for something, or someone.

"¿La has visto? ¿Mi hija? ¿Dónde está mi hija? ¿La has visto?" she called out.

Now, Danny was only a first year Spanish student, and furthermore... he missed a lot of classes, so he wasn't sure exactly what she was saying, but he did recognize the words 'mi hija', 'my daughter'. The last time he'd been to Spanish class, Señora Gutierrez had been teaching family terms. Madre, padre, hermana, hermano, hija, hijo, tío, abuela, that kind of thing.

Subtly, he followed her until she walked into a hallway where there weren't any people, and then, with no one to look at him like he was crazy for talking to the air, he spoke to her.

"Excuse me, are you looking for your daughter?" Danny asked.

"¡sí mi hija!" the woman replied excitedly. "¿La conoces? ¿La has visto?"

Danny knew 'sí', that was 'yes', the most basic of basic Spanish. 'sí' and... and... okay, so Danny couldn't remember what 'no' was in Spanish, but he remembered 'sí'. Ancients, he was really gonna have to start showing up to that class more if he wanted to get the foreign language credits he needed to graduate.

"Uh... tu hija," Danny said, completely confident that he was already screwing up the grammar, "¿que es la nombre?"

"No es muy fluido en español, ¿verdad?" The ghost laughed. "Su nombre es Paulina."

"Paulina?" Danny didn't understand any of the rest of what she said, so he focused on the last bit. "Paulina Sanchez?"

"¡Sí!" she confirmed, enthusiastically. "Mi hija. Paulina Sánchez. ¿Tu la conoce?"

Danny nodded, although he'd kinda fallen off the sentence after 'sí'. "Why are you looking for her?"

"Es el Dia de Muertos," she said. "Quiero verla, pero no encuentro la ofrenda."

Danny had no idea to respond to that. The only word he recognized from all of that was 'la', but he couldn't glean a whole sentence from a single 'the', so he just looked at her with an expression that was half a forced, awkward smile and half a grimace.

"Ummmm..."

Was it safe to lead an unknown ghost to an unsuspecting human? Objectively no. Most especially not when the unsuspecting human was the girl Danny had a massive crush on. But... on the other hand, this particular ghost seemed pretty harmless, and she said she was Paulina's mother. So... maybe it was okay?

"How about I'll take you to her," Danny suggested.

The ghost that claimed to be Paulina's mother nodded excitedly and said something else in Spanish that Danny had no hope of translating.

Danny led her to the outdoor table where the A-listers always sat, but Paulina wasn't there. After a little bit of prowling the quad, he found her, at an out of the way table no one ever sat at because the the school custodian always ignored it and it was disgusting.

Paulina had laid her jacket over the bench to sit on, and unfolded a few paper napkins over the surface of the table. She had a handful of sugar cubes, and was poking one with a toothpick for some reason. She hadn't noticed him yet.

As much as he would have liked to go over to her as Danny Fenton and be the hero who let her talk to her mom again, he figured it would probably be suspicious if people knew he could see ghosts others couldn't. A but reluctantly, he looked around to make sure no one could see and transformed into Danny Phantom. The ghost, Paulina's mom, applauded him, like he'd just done a magic trick. To her, it might have seemed that way.

"Thanks," he said, a little sarcastically, and floated over to talk to Paulina.

"Excuse me, Paulina Sanchez?" Danny asked, as if he wasn't sure whether he knew her name or not. "There's a ghost here who wants to speak to you."

Paulina looked up and looked around, then turned back to Danny and raised a perfect eyebrow. She put down the sugar cube she was poking at, and Danny noticed that on her other side, there were two other sugar cubes sculpted into the shape of a skull.

"You mean you?" she asked. "Look, normally, I'd be thrilled, but today isn't really—"

"Oh, no, not me," Danny said. "She has long hair, wearing a nice knee-length dress.... It's kinda hard to describe ghosts in a way that makes them recognizable to people who knew them in life, 'cause colors tend to be different between life-and-death but uh... you and her have the same nose, actually. She says your her daughter? I don't speak Spanish, but I managed to figure out that much."

When he stopped talking, Pauling gave him a flat look.

"Are you messing with me?"

"No," Danny insisted. "She's not a very powerful ghost, so she can't stay in the visible range, but she's here. She wants to talk to you."

"Mamá?" Paulina asked hesitantly. "¿Estás aquí?"

"Sí, hija mía, estoy aquí," Mrs. Sanchez replied. "Estoy muy feliz de verte de nuevo."

Paulina didn't respond for a long moment, apparently waiting. Then, finally, she said, "I don't hear anything."

"I was worried you might say that," Danny said. "I'm gonna have to speak Spanish if you guys want to talk to each other, aren't I?" he sighed deeply. "Alright fine. Apologies in advance because I am gonna absolutely butcher the pronunciations."

"Hija," Mrs. Sanchez said, "volví a verte, pero no había camino para mí. ¿Por qué?"

Danny repeated the words to the best of his ability.

Paulina took a moment to parse them out, with a puzzled expression before finally saying, "Papá se volvió a casar. Su nueva esposa es gringa, así que no le hicimos un ofrenda en casa para que no se sintiera incómoda."

Danny didn't know what any of that meant, obviously, and was grateful he only had to repeat after Paulina's mom, because Paulina herself spoke Spanish very quickly and there was absolutely no way he wouldn't trip over his tongue mimicking her.

"Pero estoy aquí, debe haber una ofrenda."

Danny mimicked her again.

Paulina looked a little embarrassed. "Sí... yo... hice uno en mi casillero para ti. No quería que no pudieras cruzar."

Her mother gasped. Danny really wished he knew what was going on.

"¿Me mostrarás?"

Paulina's expression lit up when Danny repeated that, and she stood, gathering up her jacket and her sugar cubes.

"Vamos," she said. "I mean, follow me."

She led the way through the empty halls and Danny and her mom followed.

"What were you guys talking about?" Danny asked, then immediately realized what he was asking and quickly backtracked. "I mean, never mind, it's probably personal. I was just curious. You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay," Paulina said. "See, my mom passed when I was seven, and every year, me and my dad set up an ofrenda for Day of the Dead with her picture so she could visit us. We moved here from Mexico when I was ten, but we kept up the tradition.

"Last winter, though, Dad married my step-mom, and she's white, and doesn't know anything about Mexican traditions or holidays. Dad doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, so ever since they got married, we stopped celebrating most of what we used to back in Mexico, so we didn't put up an ofrenda this year, and Mom was asking why she couldn't find it, so I explained."

"Oh... that's... kinda sad," Danny said. "You just had to give up all your culture because your dad remarried?"

Paulina shrugged. "We had to give up a lot of it already, when we moved to America anyway," she said, as if that made it less sad and not more. "At least Sandra's nice, she's just... a little out of her depth sometimes."

"So... where are you taking us?"

Finally, she stopped in front of her locker and turned the dial with her combination.

"I didn't want mom to not be able to visit me, so... I sort of made my own ofrenda in my locker," Paulina explained sheepishly.

The door swung open to reveal the inside. There was a small magnetic shelf stuck on the back of the locker. On it, there was a small electric candle, some kind of orange flower, a pair of black lace gloves, and a heart-shaped locket. The locket was open and propped up so the picture inside was visible. It was the ghost Danny was trying to help.

Paulina reached in an put a few of the sculpted sugar cubes on the shelf next to the locket. The tiny sugar skulls were perfectly to scale with the tiny picture, but absolutely dwarfed by the flower.

The ghost put her hands to her heart and looked absolutely touched by the tiny display.

"Those were her favorite gloves," Paulina explained. "She always wore them when Dad took her dancing."

"What's the flower?" Danny asked.

"It's a marigold," she replied. "Cempasúchil, in Spanish. They're a traditional decoration for the ofrenda. You're also supposed to leave a trail of their petals from the grave to the ofrenda, but... Mom's grave is in Mexico, and the ofrenda is in my locker so...."

"Ay, esto es hermoso," the ghost said. "Gracias. Amo mucho esto. Te quiero mi hija."

Danny had been to distracted to properly listen, so he wasn't sure how to repeat her words.

"Uh... she says she likes it."

The ghost gave him a look and a light slap that passed right through him.

"A lot, she likes it a lot."

"¡Y te amo!" she added insistently.

"Y te amo, she says," Danny repeated.

"Thank you, Phantom," Paulina said. She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "This means a lot to me."

Danny knew his cheeks were turning bright green, and he cleared his throat awkwardly to make sure his voice wouldn't crack.

"Uh, yeah, no problem," he said. "Don't mention it."

It was then that the bell rang signalling the end of lunch, and Paulina grabbed a couple of books from her locker and headed to class. Her mom followed, even though Paulina couldn't see her.

Danny had to get to class, too. He had Spanish class after lunch, and Ancients knew he didn't need to be missing any more of those.

In class, Señora Gutierrez talked about Dia de los Muertos, and for once, Danny actually sort of knew what she was talking about, thanks to Paulina. Maybe he should ask her to tutor him.

#dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #paulina sanchez #paulina sanchez's mom #dia de los muertos #fic #things i wrote #phic phight #phic phight 24 #spanish

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pluto247 · 1 day

Text

The Four Mistakes - pt 2

Thinking about doing a part 3...

Katie McCabe x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Injury

It seemed like every step was a chore, even with Katie supporting your entire body weight. You groaned with every step. Katie was basically dragging you, at least that is what you felt was happening as you could barely lift your feet.

“I know y/n, I know it hurts but we are almost home.” Katie would reassure you, although you were pretty sure she was scared shitless and trying to keep you calm. Fun fact, you were anything but calm.

The 10 minute walk back to Katie's house felt more like 2 hours with how slow you felt you were walking, but you have to give Katie credit, she can most definitely drag a 60 kg 17 year old like there is no tomorrow. When we did get back to the house, Katie practically threw you in the back seat and jumped in the driver's seat. Driving like a mad woman to the nearest hospital, you took notice of her right hand. It could have been broken, it was swollen with dried and fresh blood flowing down her arm. It seemed as though she hadn’t really taken notice, it was the least of her problems to be fair.

“Don’t fall asleep on me back there, ya hear?”

“I’ll try my best” you whispered. Gosh, even talking hurt.

“You’re going to be just fine y/n. Ya gotta be.”

Katie pulled right outside the emergency doors and threw open her door to grab you from the backseat. Once you were safely tucked into her side, the both of you made your way to the entrance of the emergency room. Surprisingly, the emergency room seemed to not be as chaotic as they portray in drama shows. So a nurse was on us the moment we came through the doors.

“We will take her from here ma’am” she said while getting on my other side, “Tell us everything you know.”

“Um.. I.. He..” Katie stuttered out, as they transferred me to a gurney and wheeled me away.

“Ma’am, your hand. You are hurt, let me help you.” She said gently grabbing Katies right hand,

Katie recoiled a little bit, hissing at the contact, finally realizing that she in fact was in a great deal of pain. Her pain only became relevant now that you were in the hands of people capable of helping you.

“Ma’am, do you know who you brought in? Do you know who we can call? Can I please help you? I think you broke your hand” The nurse asked

“Um, she's my kid. I am the one who you would call.” She responded shakily

“Ok, good. Is there anyone we can call for you? You don’t seem to be doing ok.”

Katie thought for a few seconds before fishing out her phone and handing it to the nurse “Uh, yea me best mate. And yea me hand hurts help would be appreciated, if ya wouldn’t mind. Is she gonna be alright? What are they going to do?”

“We will not know until the doctor comes back, but we will let you know as soon as they come back. Now let's go over here and take a look at your hand.” The nurse said while leading Katie back into an examination room. She began to look at the hand in more detail before reaching over to grab some cleaning supplies and clean her knuckles.

“I’m Nancy by the way, what’s your name?” The nurse said after starting to clean Katies wounds.

“My name is Katie, do ya think my hand is broken?”

“Straight to the point I see. Well, we will need an x-ray to say for sure and what kind of treatment would be needed, but I am 80% sure you indeed have a broken hand Katie,”

“Damn, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. Do I at least get a cool cast?”

“Of course, in any color you want. But let me go and put in for an x-ray and check up on the status of your child. What's her name? Nancy said while standing up

“Her names y/n, y/n McCabe” Katie responded tearfully

*****

A half hour had passed before another person burst through the emergency room doors.

“I’m looking for Katie McCabe? Where is she?” Viv asked the front desk

“She is just about to come back to the waiting room, looks like she just got her cast done so the nurse will send her your way if you will just have a seat ma’am.”

Viv nodded and turned around to look for an open chair perfectly positioned to see everything but not be so far away that she couldn’t hear if the nurse called your name. In the middle of her consideration, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her torso. She looked over and saw Katie, so she wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

“Hey, are you ok?” Viv spoke after a minute

“I don’t know, I will be once I see her. Viv… she was in bad shape… I …” Katie said before being caught by a wave of emotion.

“Hey. Look at me, she is going to be fine. She’s a McCabe, you all are a stubborn lot. Now lets sit down and tell me what happened”

*****

Katie was currently tucked into Vivs side, her leg bouncing in anticipation, impatiently waiting for the doctor to say your name.

“So, why did you have them call me instead of Caitlin?” Viv wondered out loud

“Well, Cait is out with Steph and Kyra. I didn’t want to ruin her night, and ya were the next person I could think of to help me.” Katie confessed. “Where's Beth? Ya guys are attached at the hip.”

“Ah, Steph called like 10 min before I got the phone call. She got invited to hang out with the Aussies.”

“God, that's trouble.”

Finally, your name was called, “Family of y/n McCabe?”

Katie and Viv shot up and made their way to the doctor.

“Hi, yea that’s us. Is she ok?” Katie rushed out

“Yes, y/n is alright. If you follow me, we will go back and see her. She is a little out of it because we gave her some strong pain meds, just a warning.” They said while walking down the corridor. They walked past a few more doors until the doctor turned left and went through the door.

“y/n, how are you feeling?” The doctor greeted you.

As they walked in the room, Katie was finally able to see you. You were sitting up and looking at the door with a dopey look on your face. She took note of all the physical injuries she could see, you had a black eye, a few stitches around your eyebrow and a cut adorning your lip. As well as a bandage around your right hand.

“I’m okayyyy. The funky juice ya gave me is makin me feel fuzy, but its all goooood becuz ya brought me Mum. Oh! And Auntie Viv!”

The doctor chuckled a little bit, “Mhmm, I sure did. They are gonna take you home soon, I just need to tell your mum a few things, is that alright?”

You looked flabbergasted, “pfffttt, of course. She already knows everything about meee”

“Alright, so I am sure you can see most of the damage. She has a few stitches in her face and quite a few in her hand. We have it covered so that nothing gets into her… incisions. You will have to come back to get all the stitches removed in about 2 weeks. We checked her torso area, and found that she has no broken bones, she did however have a few fractured ribs and severe bruising. That is the reason for the strong pain meds. I imagine she will be in quite a bit of pain for about a week or so because of that. Any questions?”

“Um, is there a way I can get you to send both my report and hers to our work? And I can take her back home tonight?”

“Yea, that shouldn’t be a problem. Just need a medical release so that we can send those over and those can be there by the morning. Yes, you can take her home tonight. We don’t need to keep her for observation, but if anything changes please do come back and we can take a look.”

“Ok, thank you very much.” Katie replied and then turned to you. “Hey kid, ya really gave me a scare there.” She continued, gently cupping your cheek.

“I’m sowry, I didn’t mean to” You replied looking tearful

“Hey, no. It’s alright, I… I just hated to see you like that, but you are alright now. Auntie Viv is going to take us home” She softly smiled before leaning in and placing a light kiss on your forehead. You leaned into her touch, closing your eyes briefly.

*****

You all had arrived home far too late for Katie’s pleasure. It was nearing 3 am when you stumbled through the front door.

“Hey, careful there kid. Lets not have to go back to the hospital, alright?” Katie said, worry laced in her voice

“I am like sooo careful, ya don’t even know. Now where is the boi??? I am in need of cuddles” You retort back, head swiveling in search of cooper.

Viv chuckled, as she grabbed your arm and pulled you into her side “God, she’s so high.”

“C’mon, we need to go to bed. Ya can sleep in my bed with cooper too.”

“Yayyyyy, now where is he??? And what about auntie Viv, where is she going to sleep?” you say, determined and confused.

Katie turned to Viv, “I actually did not think of that. We have practice tomorrow… Ya can sleep over obviously, I think Cait said something about spending the night at Stephs”

“Yea, that would be great. I can drive you both in tomorrow, you will have to talk to Jonas and the Physio. I can do that if it would make it easier.” Viv said while practically dragging you to Katie's bedroom.

“That would be great, I don’t know if I could talk about it again without breaking down. Would you mind taking us later, so everyone is on the pitch already, I don’t want the kid to be overwhelmed.”

“Yea, I will text Jonas now. I am in no shape to train tomorrow either, I am so tired.”

Viv helped you lay down in the middle of the bed, where you were now picking up cooper from where he was and placing him on your chest. Your quest of finding your furry friend now over.

As Viv was sending a message to Jonas, Katie got into the bed and pulled the covers up. Cooper moving off y/n’s chest and onto her own. You however, were sad that cooper had left you so you moved to your side and cuddled into Katies side sighing contently as Katie wrapped an arm around you protectively. When Viv had turned around, she chuckled.

“May I join the cuddle pile?”

“Of course, auntie Viv. Come on my other side, so that I am a sandwich!”

“What kind of sandwich?” Viv asked as she got into the bed, spooning you

“A love sandwich, silly” you said tiredly.

“My bad, now go to bed kid, you have a long day tomorrow.” Viv said as she felt herself being claimed by the warmth of sleep.

#katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #arsenal wfc #arsenal women

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jamdoughnutmagician · 23 hours

Text

A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) part 6

Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader

<- Previous part

Word Count:2,208

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist

“Steve, what on earth are you doing here?” you whisper-shout as you round his table.

“I heard this was a great place to get some pie.” he says with a smile. “Plus I came to see you, I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N”

“You can’t be visiting me at work like this, doesn’t this go against our keeping things low-profile agreement.”

“I don’t care about that, I know how I feel about you, and I’m not ashamed of that. I like you a lot, Y/N, and sometimes I think you think like me too, and I want to be the one to make you happy.” he says sincerely.

“It’s not that simple, Steve. Yes I like you, of course I do, but all of it doesn’t matter when I’ve got Billy breathing down my neck and watching my every move. He’d wring my neck if he even saw us talking together right now.”

“I know this whole situation is completely crazy, and not ideal, and hell, I’ve only known you a few short months, but you’ve worked your way into my heart.”

“Steve..”

“I’ll wait for you, however long that may be, I’ll wait for you. You’re worth waiting for.”

You fight against the tears welling up in your eyes at how patiently sweet and loving that this man was to you, your heart pounding against your chest.

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand quickly, turning away, before turning to Robin on your way.

“Uh, Rob, can you serve table 7 for me please, I need to run to the back for something.”

“Sure, is everything okay?” she asks, laying a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine, honest I am, thanks” and with that you were rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you with a shaky breath and tears bubbling in your eyes.

Why was nothing simple?

You dry your eyes, and pull yourself together in the bathroom mirror enough to go back out into the diner, and when you look out you find the seat in which Steve was sitting bare. Robin tidying away after him.

“Hey, Y/n, that customer I just served, he sure did leave a generous tip.” she smiled as she wiped down the table with a cloth.

“That’s-uh- that’s really good, Rob, you deserve it.”

The day had felt long and tiring as you sit down with a sigh next to Nancy on the bench outside the diner.

“You waiting on Billy to pick you up?”

“Yeah” you say quietly.

There’s a beat of silence between you two before Nancy speaks again.

“You know, you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. That’s the thing that I have always admired about you, you come into work every day with a bright smile on your face, even though that terrible man is waiting for you at home.”

“I guess being here, making pies and making people happy with the pies that I make is the only time I get to escape from being Billy’s wife. We were so young we got together, and I was too dumb to realise that being Mrs. Hargrove wasn’t all that I thought it was going to be. I've been with him for so long that somewhere down the line I forgot what it was like to just be myself.” you huff, wringing your hands together in your lap. “Not Billy’s wife, not Mrs. Hargrove, just Y/n.”

“Well, you know what? Just Y/N happens to be one of my best friends, and I’m so glad that I get to exist in a world with you in it.” she smiles. “And I’m sure as hell this baby is going to have one of the best mothers that they could ever want for.”

Just as you were settling into the warmth of Nancy’s kind words you’re brought out of it by the blaring horn coming from Billy’s car as it cruised to a stop in front of you.

“Alright, well I’ll see you on Friday Nance, I love you.” you give her a final hug before getting up.

“I love you too darling, take care of yourself.”

You close your eyes as best you can, desperately trying to fall asleep and ignore Billy’s presence in the bed beside you, but that proved to be an impossibility as his form leered over your shoulder, placing a trail of kisses to your shoulder.

“Babe, I know you’re awake, why don’t you come a little closer and treat me how a good wife treats her husband, huh?” He says in that way he does when he’s trying to get what he wants from you. It makes your skin crawl.

“I don’t feel like it.” you mutter, burying yourself deeper under the covers of the duvet in the hopes that somehow the world would just disappear around you.

“What makes you think you have that option, hmm?” his hand traces up your arm, and it’s all you can do to close your eyes as he leans close, his voice in your ear. “I feed you, I pay for the roof over our heads, I put clothes on your back, c’mon all you gotta do is reach behind and give me a little hand-job or something? I ain’t askin’ for the world, sweetcheeks,”

“Billy, please, I’m really tired. I just want to sleep.”

“Fine, if you’re not going to look after me, I guess I’m just going to have to take matters into my own hands.” he grumbles, before getting out of bed and making his way to the bathroom. “I’m gonna go have a shower and jerk off since you wanna be a bitch about it.”

The bathroom door closes behind him and you suddenly let go of a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding on to. A relief washes over you, finally a chance at peace. You snuggle down into the sheets, laying a protective hand settling around your growing bump.

Dear Baby, I hope someday someone wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. Without any expectations, hope or agenda, and they don’t pull away. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on to you tight without an ounce of selfishness to it.

Steve had texted you, apologising for showing up to the diner unannounced, asking you for the chance to make it up to you. You told him that it was fine, that his apology wasn’t necessary but he still insisted so, you told him to come to your house at 8.00 am sharp, but to stay behind the cover of the trees on the opposite street, watching out for Billy as he took off for work for the day.

Pregnant, affair with your doctor, lying to your husband pie. Chopped walnuts and pecans, lumpy oatmeal with raisins instead of chocolate chips thrown in for good measure, flambé, of course..

At 8 am sharp there’s a knock on your door, and you can’t help the excited buzz you feel settling its place in your heart. You pad your way towards your front door, waddling slightly as you walk, the past few weeks in your pregnancy had suddenly made the easy, everyday things very difficult and tiresome. Your belly was now rounding out in front of you very prominently, there was certainly no hiding the fact that you were pregnant now.

“Hey, I just wanted to apologise for upsetting you last week, I didn’t mean to just show up to the diner unannounced like that, but I was driving past and before I knew it I was pulling up just to come and see you.”

He’s dressed in a simple and soft navy henley shirt, and pair of light-wash denim jeans, his hair flounces in a perfectly messy style that on anyone else would have looked unkempt, but he carries it off so effortlessly. As you bring him in for a hug, his warm and woodsy scent fills your senses, wishing he would hold you for just a bit longer, if only to be surrounded in his welcoming warmth.

“That’s really sweet of you, Steve. Why don’t you come in?” you say, standing back and opening the door for him to come through. “Billy’s gone for the day, and I’m off work, so I was going to spend my day trial-running a couple of new pie flavours, you wanna join me?”

“I would love nothing more.” he smiles in that glorious way that he always does, pink lips curving into rose-tinted cheeks.

You set out all your ingredients and mixing bowls on the kitchen’s work table, before reaching for your apron that hangs on the hook of the kitchen’s door.

“Here, let me.” Steve says as he takes the apron from your hands, and pulls it over your head. The material clinging to your belly. “Turn around for me.” and as you turn around, you feel his strong hands tying off the strings of the apron in a neat little bow at your back.

You bring out the pastry you had already made from the fridge before handing it over to Steve.

“Here, do me a favour, sprinkle some flour down and roll this out for me please.”

He does as you ask, dusting the worktop in flour before placing down the pastry and rolling the rolling pin over it.

“How’s this?” he smiles looking at you from over his shoulder where you are mixing together the filling for the pie on the stovetop. A slowly stewing mixture of pink rhubarb, green apples and red cherries, bubbling together in a sugary sweet-syrupy mixture.

“Looks good, now all we’ve got to is blind bake the pie shell for a couple of minutes whilst this comes together.”

“Mmhmm” he hums gently, the pie shell in its tin ready to go, left out on the worktop for a moment as he turns his attention to you, brushing your hair away from your neck as gently kisses your soft skin.

“Y’know, it was my mom who taught me how to bake a pie. I would sit on the kitchen counters every time and just watch her as she worked. She was always so happy in what she was doing, not once did I ever see her in the kitchen without a smile on her face. She’d come up with all these different flavours and combinations and it was delicious every single time. She’d always tell me that the secret ingredient was love, and I don’t know if I ever fully believed her until I started baking for myself. She’d always give the pies the strangest names too, like ‘Bed-Time Story pie’ or ‘Summer Vacation pie’, my favourite one was ‘Pretty Baby pie’, she told me that that was the pie she made when she found out she was pregnant with me.”

“And what’s this one called?” he asks, nodding towards the mixture of fruit bubbling away on the stove.

“Well let’s just call it, hidden lover’s pie” you smile, turning the stovetop off and turning to look at him and as he looks back at you he cups your face in his hands and kisses your lips so sweetly. Pulling back from your lips he smiles at you so warmly.

“You're so beautiful.”

“I’m fat.” you laugh softly, resting a hand on your baby bump.

“You’re pregnant, there’s nothing in the world more beautiful than that.”

“Well I sure as hell don’t feel beautiful. I’m tired and cranky, totally not prepared and have no idea what I’m even doing. Just thinking about having this baby makes me scared as hell. I don’t know how to be a mother.”

“Nobody knows what they’re doing the first time they have a baby. I mean, my friend, Eddie and his wife had a baby not too long ago, and that man was the most nervous, terrified, panicked father-to-be that I had ever seen, but as soon as I delivered that little baby girl and he got to hold her in his arms for the first time? It was like a switch flipped in his brain and it all suddenly clicked into place.”

“You delivered her?”

“Yeah, little Lydia Munson, I’m her god-father too. She’s a sweet kid, and her parents love her so much, she makes them very happy.”

You give a short hum as Steve takes your hands and pulls you close to his body, wrapping his arms around you in a safe, loving hug.

“..She makes them happy, just like being right here, with you in my arms, makes me happy.” he says, and with that he wastes no time in kissing his lips against yours once more, one hand tangled in your hair, the other hand is a steady presence on the curve your hip as he leans into you more to deepen the kiss.

You make me happy too, Steve, more than you could ever know.

You allow yourself this moment of quiet and blissful peace in Steve’s arms. A chance to let yourself just be taken as you are, not as Billy’s wife, not as the waitress from the diner, just as Y/N, nothing more, nothing less.

@keerygal @penguinsandpotterheads @mrsjellymunson @paybacksawitch @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x female Reader #Steve Harrington x reader series #Steve Harrington x female reader series #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fanfiction

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yuikomorii · 2 days

Note

can you tag the translator if ur reposting their translations please :)

// I actually used to write down their usernames ever time I posted a translation screenshot or @ them, yet I’ve seen that people started crediting them through ALT, so I thought that option was just fine as well and maybe less bothersome. But, I will start doing it again if it’s more useful that way!!

Some translations are also mine, or they’re translated by my friends for me, so sometimes I will post such stuff as well.

#admin

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simplyender · 8 months

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just some gifs of spot making his own solar (spotlar?) flares

#across the spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman: across the spiderverse #gifs #my edits #inspired by discussions w fellhellion who ENABLES me #i just find it so neat how his spots start shaking with rage #screenshots werent doing it justice #the way dark energy flits out of him...hes got no face but every bit of darkness on his body expresses his anger PERFECTLY #also he crushes what appears to be a metal sign w his hands. neat!#also not showing up in thw tags for some reason? weird #johnathon ohnn #the spot #spiderverse spot #spot #atsv #as always yall can use my gifs as you please. id like credit tho. unless its a smut fic then by all means take it w/o tagging me

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northgazaupdates · 30 days

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Graphic design artist Moataz Abu Sakran/ @moatazart has provided extensive documentation of the genocide against Gaza. His photos and videos have been used—often without credit—by major media outlets, and his posts are featured on this blog regularly.

Moataz and his wife and baby girl are trapped in the vicinity of Al-Shifa Hospital complex. The area has was under complete siege for 13 days, and made life even more difficult and dangerous than before. In addition to the physical violence of the siege, the occupation’s famine has made food extremely scarce—Moataz and Mariam can no longer find milk and nutritious food for baby Maria.

They were able to raise enough funds to begin the paperwork involved in evacuating to Egypt, but exorbitant processing fees have totally depleted the money they had reserved to find a place to stay in Egypt. They need funds to procure food and shelter while they rebuild their lives in Egypt (God willing), otherwise they will be homeless and destitute.

There was an increase in donations after we initially shared the link on this blog. We are hoping that will happen again. Please support Moataz’s family via this link so that they can reach safety. Even just a few dollars will help. If you can’t donate, please share the link on all your social media accounts.

This is the primary link to donate and share. You can copy and paste it onto other posts and social media sites.

If the primary link does not work, try this link

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thetreetopinn · 5 months

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Sources for Somerton's Plagiarism from Hbomberguy's Video (as much as I could get)

I went back through Harry's video, focused entirely on the sources James Somerton pulled from in the hopes of creating as much of a comprehensive list as I could--though my Google-Fu is not very strong. I did however find something I thought was forever lost and that made me very happy--specifically the magazine Midlands Zone containing the column by Steven Spinks that Harry poignantly used as an illustration of gay erasure... while Somerton uses it to sound like HE is waxing remorseful about the very subject.

This is not a complete list, I'm sure. For one thing, I was only able to attempt to pull sources that Harry himself mentioned in the video. Surely there's so very much more out there. I expect there to be a great deal more internet archeology to unearth just how much writing and culture Somerton has stolen like he's the British Museum of Natural History but for gay people.

- - - - -

Harry's list of mentioned youtubers:

Alexander Avila - https://www.youtube.com/@alexander_avila Matt Baume - https://www.youtube.com/@MattBaume Khadija Mbowe - https://www.youtube.com/@KhadijaMbowe Lady Emily - https://www.youtube.com/@LadyEmilyPresents Shanspeare - https://www.youtube.com/@Shanspeare RickiHirsch - https://www.youtube.com/@RickiHirsch VerilyBitchie - https://www.youtube.com/@verilybitchie

Harry created a convenient playlist of videos by these and other people he wants to bring to everyone's attention.

Please give them your support.

- - - - -

Midlands Zone Magazine - Column by Steven Spinks

After a great deal of searching, I found an archive of the "Midlands Zone" magazine, where you can read through past issues dating all the way back to February 2014. I have also found the issue from which Somerton took Spinks' poignant discussion of gay erasure: Overall archive Specific Issue - Pages 16-17

It will not allow you to download it, but you can read it exactly as it appeared in print form.

- - - - -

My best effort to find the exact book or article Somerton lifted from to be able to get attention to the original writers

Tinker Bells and Evil Queens By Sean Griffin

The Celluloid Closet By Vito Russo Wikipedia article about the book Wikipedia article about the documentary My weak google-fu could not find where you can access the book or documentary. Check your local municipal or university library for book or documentary, or if you know a good source for one or both, please reblog with it added

Camp and the Gay Sensibility By Jack Babuscio

The Groundbreaking Queerness of Disney's Mulan By Jes Tom Personal site with links to social media accounts

Why Rebel Without a Cause was a milestone for gay rights By Peter Howell

Why "The Craft" is still the best Halloween coming out movie By Andrew Park

Opinion: From facehuggers to phallic tails, is 'Alien' one of the queerest films ever? By Dani Leever

Women and Queerness in Horror: Jennifer's Body By Zoe Fortier

[Pride 2019] We Have Such Sights to Show You: Hellraiser and the Spectrum of Queerness By Alejandra Gonzalez

Revealing the Hellbound Heart of Clive Barker's 'Hellraiser' By Colin Arason

Queering James Cameron's Aliens (1986) By Bart Bishop

Demeter and Persephone in space: transformation, femininity, and myth in the 'Alien' films By David Greven

Fears of a millennial masculinity: Scream's queer killers By David Greven (Scholarly site, unable to access original work, offers a way to request a full copy of the text in PDF)

Queer Subtext in Stephen King's It - Part 1: 'Reddie' Character Analysis By Rachel Brands Rachel is the very unfortunate lady who found out she was being stolen from because she supported Somerton through Patreon and saw one of his videos early with her writing--lacking any form of citation or credit

How 'It: Chapter Two' Leaves Richie Tozier Behind By Joelle Monique

When Horror Becomes Strength: Queer Armor in Stephen King's 'IT' By Alex London

Why Queer People Love Witchcraft By Amanda Kohr

'The Favourite' Queers The Past And The Present By Giorgi Plys-Garzotto

(Wuko) Crush (Mako x Wu) By MoonFlower on YouTube

5 Terrible Movies With Awesome Hidden Meanings By J.F. Sargent

The Radicalization of Sexuality: The Queer Casae of Jeffrey Dahmer By Ian Barnard

Netflix's 'Dahmer' backlash highlights ethical issues in the platform's obsession with true crime By Shivani Dubey

The Possible Disturbing Dissonance Between Hajime Isayama's Beliefs and Attack on Titan's Themes Original Article by "Seldom Musings" (Author has made all posts not related to Attack On Titan private and has retired from the blog)

Everyone Loves Attack on Titan. So Why Does Everyone Hate Attack on Titan? By Gita Jackson

- - - - -

The following people are otherwise named in the video. There are no direct citations of articles or books by them in said video. I am unable to guarantee that I have identified the correct individual.

Darren Elliott-Smith Michaela Barton David Church Claire Sisco King Amanda Howell Jessica Roy

- - - - -

Telos announced and cancelled a film likely based on this book: The Final Girl Support Group - By Grady Hendrix

- - - - -

I refrained from including certain sources.

First off only focusing on Somerton's work.

Secondly not including anything that might be visible enough to not require amplifying their voice (I cannot speak for all of those I have found links to, but journalism is frequently a thankless job).

Thirdly any source that is of a nature that is antithetical to the very existence of the queer community, such as the right-leaning source that didn't make it into Somerton's video, but Harry was able to identify as a source he had considered using.

If you feel I have missed a mentioned source--or you know of a source from material that was not covered in Harry's video--please do not hesitate to reblog with added details.

- - - - -

Please share this information far and wide, and please add to it if you find more material that can be positively identified and linked to the creator/writer.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #Plagiarism #Queer #LGBT #LGBTQIA #youtube #Solidarity #gay erasure #Make them un-erased

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ofcowardiceandkings · 7 months

Text

Suella Braverman Stop Talking Out Her Ass Challenge

#holy fuck dude please quit it lol #wE'rE dOInG aN aUdIT On tHe dEpArtMeNT bEcaUse wE mIGht bE toO WoKe ????#ToO mUch uSeLess DivERsitY tRaiNiNG On TopICs thAt I dOnT fEeL pERsOnAlLy AffECt mE ????#okay listen yes its patronising sometimes but people DO need to be reminded not to be giant cockstains to each other #also just because you personally feel like youre facing microaggression problems it doesnt mean others arent lol ???#it could probably use a bit of reform sure !! maybe more needs to be done about incidents when they happen too !!#but good grief #also can the word Woke get its head out of politics please #ill give it credit as a good way to identify the arseholes out there easily #but say what you mean ... dont hide it with Woke ......#rory's ramblings

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yuujispinkhair · 5 months

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So how is no nut November going w modern boyfie sukuna? Idk if u can get him to participate but if he does I bet he makes the whole month as torturous for u as possible.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Word Count: 400 Warnings: 18+, smut, creampie, praise, face shot, overstimulation, light dub-con. All characters are of age. Credit for the banner @/benkeibear

Sukuna just huffs and rolls his eyes when he hears someone mention No-Nut-November. Your boyfriend never believes in abiding rules, especially not ridiculous ones like that! Who invented that shit anyways?! Sukuna will show them how much he doesn't let anyone tell him what to do!

He makes sure to nut in you exactly one minute after midnight to say a big fuck you to No-Nut-November, so proud of himself, moaning and smirking against your neck,

"Hmm fuck yeah, feels so good to nut in my girl. What a lovely way to start November."

He's an idiot, but it's incredibly charming somehow. And after all, he also makes sure to make you nut so good that you scream his name and leave scratches on his muscular back, so why should you complain?

A sane person would let it go after that midnight fuck. But not Sukuna. Your boyfriend is a rebel. If someone tells him to do No-Nut-November, he will take it as a personal challenge to nut as often as possible this month.

You whine beneath him, exhausted from all the times he made you cum in one session, pussy throbbing, clit pulsing hotly, both your bodies sweaty and the bedsheets soaked from all your combined cum. You feel light-headed, weakly running your hands up and down Sukuna's flexed, tattoed biceps as you look up at him with your eyes wet from tears,

"Kuna... Baby, I can't go another round... it's too much."

But your pink-haired menace of a boyfriend just smirks and snaps his hips faster, meaner, going even deeper, pounding your sweet spot so good that you mewl his name.

"Aww, princess, we are going at least two more rounds."

But he turns sweeter a moment later, leaning down to trail kisses over your neck while he humps your pussy with slow but deep thrusts.

"My princess can take it. I know that. You're my good girl after all, aren't you, baby? Aren't you gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?"

Of course, you do, your pussy clenching helplessly around Sukuna's talented cock, squealing his name as your legs shake weakly, and your face feels so hot you think you have a fever as you shudder around his fat cock with the next mind-blowing orgasm.

And Kuna chuckles smugly, followed by a low groan of "Yeah, see, I knew it. That's my good girl. I love you, princess."

He pumps your overstimulated pussy full of another load of his thick cum, before giving his little Anti-No-Nut-November performance a cherry on top by nutting one last load over your pretty face this time, just to make sure.

PLEASE I NEED HIM SO BAD!! Sweet anon, thank you for sending me this!! Sukuna can always use me for his personal vendetta against NNN uwu ;)

I hope you enjoyed this little drabble!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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luveline · 20 days

Note

you can ignore me for the rest of time and I will still dutifully show up to read your work every day ~ can I request some angsty bombshell x spencer? maybe their first actual fight and spence snaps at her so bombshell r crying and locks herself in their room and he apologizes through the door but still sleeps on the couch and she comes and snuggles in the middle of the night and forgives him bc she can’t sleep? this is so self indulgent pls feel free to change anything you want love you jade

thank u for requesting! —spencer makes you cry. fem, 1k

Spencer can’t stand hearing you cry. He can’t believe he’s the one who caused it —he didn’t mean to, he just got so annoyed at you, everything’s difficult lately now you’ve moved in together permanently because you practically living at his apartment is apparently not the same as truly living with one another.

He knows neither of you are unhappy living together, but you haven’t fought before, not like this. He stands just outside the bedroom door where you’ve sequestered yourself, ashamed of making you this upset. He doesn’t let himself in. “Y/N?”

“Go away, Spencer,” you say. To your credit, you try to sound calmer than you are.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Please don’t cry.”

“Spencer,” you say, a line of anger darkening your words, “leave me alone.”

He shouldn’t have said you were being lazy. You aren’t lazy, you’re tired. Moving in together has been really hard on you, even if you won’t admit it, or show it externally. He just wanted to say something mean, because you’d said you allowed him to have that ugly armchair in the living room and he got mad —it’s not ugly, and he wasn’t allowed, he’s a grown man.

He just can’t feel angry about it anymore hearing your sad sniffling. He said something too mean, he took it too far, and maybe he was ‘allowed’. Moving in together is about compromise, and you’d compromised, and he’s punishing you for it.

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I– I was being mean and you didn’t deserve that. I’ll be out here if you… if you wanna talk to me,” he says, turning to leave with his head held low.

He waits all night for you to come out, if it were just to drink some water or use the bathroom, but after a few minutes he can’t hear you crying, and you don’t make any sounds. He thinks he might hear you moving the sheets aside some time toward 10PM, but there’s nothing after that. He falls asleep on the couch, sulking, wishing he hadn’t been such an idiot.

You let yourself out of your shared bedroom in the middle of the night. The sheets don’t smell enough like him, and you want to hold his hand, and you want to know he’s really not mad at you. That he doesn’t really think you’re lazy.

Quiet, you walk downstairs and into the living room, where Spencer sleeps stretched out on the couch. It’s a big couch, meant for soft sitting, wide enough that, were you to set a baby down, they couldn’t roll off accidentally. Spencer’s on his side with his arm curled around one of the bigger pillows, brown strands of hair falling into his face.

He’s not a deep sleeper, but you can’t say you’re scared to wake him. You pull the pillow from his arms and sit on the couch beside him, working your way into his side, and encouraging his arm over yours. Gentle, you brush the mess of his hair from his eyes. He doesn’t even have a blanket.

You hold his sleeping face in your hands. His eyes twitch and scrunch tighter at your touching, worried, but you give a gentle, “Shh,” and he relaxes. His eyes smooth, then open, lashes struggling apart, the brown of his eyes dark as a roasted chestnut.

He whispers your name, tongue heavy with sleep.

“Mm,” you reply, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You press your face to his neck, letting yourself deflate as you wait for his arms to lock you in. It can’t be five seconds before he’s curling his arms around you carefully, kissing your hairline, the first bit of skin he can reach at this angle. He’s not quite awake yet, you know, can tell from countless times sleeping in his bed. If he were to fall back to sleep, he wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper.

“Oh,” he says, with all the tenderness of a pet name, dripping, palpable adoring, “want tea?”

“Want you.”

He strokes your shoulder. You’re the one being hugged, really, but Spencer’s grip gets so tight you worry he needs one. You wrap your arms behind him, close your eyes tight to stop from getting teary.

“I don’t like fighting,” you say.

“M’sorry.”

“Do you want to kiss and make up?”

He stills. “You’re not mad?”

“You really upset me, Spence. N’ I bet you know that n’ feel bad enough already,” you mumble.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was being childish.”

You forgive him. Everybody’s allowed to be mean every once in a while. You’d been arguing, and you can feel now that he regrets it, his hands apprehensive but somehow loving still as they touch your back through the thin fabric of a t-shirt he’d bought you. The front has a silly graphic on it, some equation that spells out love.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m not mad. I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me, so… Let’s not fight again.”

“I don’t like it when you cry.”

You shake your head gently, slotting yourself into all his nooks and crevices. Your legs tangled, the couch is an ample bed for two people trying to be as close to each other as humanly possible. You don’t like crying either, not over Spencer, not thinking he doesn’t see you in the light you’d thought he did.

“Do you really think I’m lazy?” you ask.

“No, I was being awful,” he says, sounding deeply repentant.

Well, there’s no need to punish him, you decide, not when he’s beating himself up already. You cup the back of his head to tap your foreheads together, any aches and pains of the bed disappearing in the eye of his softness. He’s gaining confidence now you’ve touched his hair, his hands travelling low to the small of your back, your face once again pushed into the curve of his neck, where you stay.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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writersdrug · 8 months

Text

Konig x Reader: Fucking You to Sleep

All credit goes to @legitchase for this lovely idea! I had so much fun writing this, please send me requests if yall want to see more!!!

Summary: from @legitchase

"Ok ok hear me out new COD MEN idea

You and your cod man, you two came from a mission he is still sort of energetic while you are really exhausted.

As you two lay in bed he softly grinds against your ass so you gave him permission to fuck into you softly as you went to sleep, making little moans in you sleep as you man makes you feel so great while drifting off to sleep"

Warnings: smut, somewhat somnophilia but consensual, fingering, slight edging, p in v, size kink, stomach bulge, google-translate German, writer never played COD :(

Konig opened the door to your shared room, stretching his limbs and sighing. "Scheiße, it's good to be back." he strode inside, heading straight to the small coffee pot the both of you had stolen from the mess hall. He started making coffee, stretching out his left hip, then his right.

You trudged into the room, bags under your eyes, muscles sore, and shoulders slumped. Your feet dragged underneath you as you closed the door behind you. Tired was an understatement - you were exhausted to the point that you were perfectly content to pass out on the cold ground and call it a night.

The mission had gone smoothly, almost as perfect as one could ask for. Konig had been positioned near the outskirts of the field, obediently waiting for the hostages to be delivered to the pick up point. You, on the other hand, had been involved in clearing the way to the hostages, as well as the path to Konig's group. You had shot, stabbed, kicked, and punched so many enemy soldiers, sometimes fighting two at once. Your mind was overworked as well as your body, and you had a few sore spots from the occasional soldier that had landed a hit on you. You never got the chance to sleep on the way back - and your body was about to make that happen, whether you were in a bed or standing up.

Konig pulled off his sniper hood, watching with a smile as you dragged yourself to the bed and flopped onto it. He chuckled. "Schatz, aren't you ecstatic? You did a great job out there!"

"M-hmph..." you muttered, your face smushed into the pillows. You sank your muscles into the mattress, groaning in both relief and pain. If only KorTac hadn't deemed the massage therapist unnecessary...

You heard the coffee dripping into the pot, followed by Konig's heavy footsteps. He crouched down, gently turning your head so he could look at your face. You kept your eyes closed.

"Engel, are you tired?" he asked sarcastically, caressing the side of your face. His head was slightly tilted to match your eye level.

You huffed sarcastically. "Just a 'lil bit." you mumbled. You opened your eyes, meeting Konig's piercing blue ones. He had a small pout on his lips.

He ran his large hand down your shoulders, squeezing the muscle gently. You whined squeezed your eyes shut at the painful relief, furring your brow as he kneaded away. He moved down to your arm, skillfully massaging it with his calloused hands. He landed on your hand, taking it between both of his and flexing your fingers, rubbing each knuckle tenderly. You hummed in appreciation.

You opened your eyes again, noticing Konig's pupils had widened the slightest bit. Oh no... nope, nope nope. You thought. You were WAY too tired to give him what he needed right now. Not that you were ever unwilling to be his fuck toy when he wanted it - you just didn't know if you could stay awake for it.

"So schön, meine Liebe..." So beautiful, my love... He muttered. You felt his breath on your face as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

"You think this is beautiful?" You asked with a smirk. "You're a simple man, Konig." You smushed your face back into the pillow, ignoring the desperation in his eyes.

"Why don't you go get a shower, hmm?" He said, rubbing the palm of your hand. "I can grab us food from the mess hall - you can stay here and unwind."

You hummed and nodded in response. Konig pulled your hips to sit you upright, kneeling himself between your legs. Your head rolled to the side, unable to even hold it upright for long from the soreness. Konig gazed up at you lustfully. You pretended to ignore it and yawned instead.

He squeezed your hips once before moving away, letting you stand up. "I'll have some coffee first, then I'll go. You wash up."

You slipped off your boots and haphazardly dropped them by the edge of the bed. As you made your way to the bathroom, you heard Konig scoff, as he moved your shoes and placed them next to his, perfectly aligned and neat. You chuckled.

-----

The entire bathroom was filled with steam. You had the water as hot as it could possibly be. It beat fiercely against your muscles - exactly what you needed. Your braced your hands against the wall in front of you, savoring every sting and ache of the hot water against your skin. You didn't even have the energy to actually bathe yourself at the moment. You would attempt that in a little bit. For now, you soaked up the heat from the shower, letting it seep into your bones.

You heard the bathroom door creak open, then it shut. Konig hummed as he moved on the other side of the curtain. You assumed he just needed something and would leave in a moment. He rustled around for a bit, the sound of fabric hitting the ground, followed by his feet quietly slapping against the tile floor.

Moments later, he threw the shower curtain back.

"Holy shit!!" you exclaimed, jumping further into the shower, startled. "The hell - I thought you went to the mess hall?!"

Konig casually stepped into the shower with you, his eyes flickering over your naked body. "I was going to, but I probably need a shower too." He closed the curtain behind him. "Why waste the water, since you're getting one already?" He smirked mischievously.

"Konig, there's hardly any room in here for both of us." You stated. You were crammed against the shower wall, purposefully avoiding looking at his obvious hard-on. It rested against your stomach as he stared down at you, eyes half-lidded in lust. Your hands rested on his chest as you tried to create space between the two of you, although you didn't mind his muscular body being pressed into yours.

He ignored your protest. "Liebling, you haven't even bathed yourself." He said, running his hands down your back. "Let me help you, bitte? You just relax, I'll wash you."

You wanted to say no, since you knew where it would lead, and you were too drained to even think of it. But it was hard to deny Konig, especially as he ran his soap-lathered hands over your arms, delicately massaging the muscles under your skin. You let out a long sigh, leaning into his touch as he masterfully worked the knots out of your shoulders, your flanks, and then your hips, lingering there a while longer. His hands combined with the hot water and the smell of the soap... your mind was practically numb under his touch. You felt yourself relax more and more as he worked the tension from your body.

Konig stared down at you, pupils blown wide. You were the kind of person to get all shy when you were naked, even though the two of you had been together for a while now. But here, in your tired state, you wordlessly submitted to him. You had come back from the mission as a hard, cracked, and dry wad of clay, and Konig was using his large hands and the hot water to mold you into what he wanted. His cock was painfully hard at the thought of you, too tired to fully push him away from you, forced to give in to his advances as he fucked you in the shower wall. You're muscles were too sore for you to fight back - he would slam himself into you until you passed out from exhaustion, your overworked little body trembling and twitching as he held you against the tiles. Your little throat would barely be able to whimper his name out.

Just the thought of him fucking you to sleep was making precum drip from his cock. It rested heavily against your back as he was running his hands down lower, squeezing out the tension from your muscles. You involuntarily let out a soft moan - the feeling of his hands was soothing, comforting... and also getting you aroused. As tired as you were, every grip from his fingers sent pleasure shooting from your core to your chest. You felt his cock twitch at your moan.

You lazily tilted your head back against his chest, looking at him through your lashes with a soft smile. He smiled back, desire settling in his lower abdomen. He leaned down and kissed the crown of your head. Slowly, he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest.

"Mein süßes mädchen..." My sweet girl... whispered, lips pressed to your head. "How about I make you feel good, yes?" His free arm climbed up your abdomen until it reached your breasts, grabbing the left one and massaging it between his fingers. "You did so well earlier - I want to reward you for it." He rolled your nipple between his fingers and tugged at it.

You arched your back against him, mewling and whining. His fingers were massaging the flesh of your stomach and pinching and pulling at your nipple... it felt so good, you would have let him take you then and there. But the more aroused you felt, the more you noticed how tired you were. "Konig, baby, can - can we please do this in the m-morning?" You whimpered out.

Konig groaned, half aroused, half frustrated. "I promise I can be gentle, schatz. I won't make you cum too much." He started grinding his cock along your ass, his arm squeezing tightly around your waist. His dick throbbed, aching to feel your cunt squeezing him tight.

You exhaled a shaky breath, before gathering your resolve and turning to face him. He let out a soft moan as your skin dragged along his cock as you spun. He gripped your shoulders tightly as you looked him in his eyes.

"Tomorrow morning, love." You gently held his face between your hands, smiling. "I promise. I'm just too tired tonight." You pulled his head down to plant a long kiss on his lips. He groaned against your mouth, before a sigh escaped through his nose.

He pulled back, caressing your face with his thumb. "Alright. Tomorrow then. Let's get you cleaned for now, and then some dinner, yes?"

The both of you continued to shower, Konig insisting on washing your hair. You stood with your eyes closed, basking in the feeling of his fingers massaging your scalp. You were starting to get frustrated yourself, between feeling both aroused and sleepy. But you focused on the feeling of his hands on your hair and the water hitting your skin (or whatever skin it could reach - Konig took up most of the stream).

Konig did his best to focus on washing your hair and body. His eyes kept wandering over your silhouette from above, cock throbbing as he watched the water running down your breasts, to your pussy, and then trailing off down your thighs. He pushed his desires away, concentrating on taking care of you.

-----

After your shower, Konig had left to grab some food, while you dried your hair and slipped into your night clothes - which consisted of your underwear and one of Konig's army-green t shirts. When he returned with some protein bars and bananas (the mess hall's only options since it was after hours), he faltered as he caught a glimpse of you. You were seated at the edge of the bed, practically swallowed in his shirt, nipples threatening to poke holes in it. You smiled gratefully at him. Despite having his sniper hood back on, you could see the tinge of pink in his face, as he quickly looked away.

The two of you ate your food, Konig splayed out in a chair across the room, sniper hood on the desk next to him, you still sitting on the edge of the bed. You talked about the mission, it's faults and it's victories, Konig saying that he would have preferred that you were the one to stay at the pick up point, and he should have gone to retrieve the hostages.

He always did that - he would complain after the fact that your team's captain would consistently put you in the more dangerous situations, rather than having you on the safer end of things. Konig would have even preferred if he could have been there with you, but that's never how it was. Either you were both in dangerous situations on opposite sides of the field, or it was just you, and he was forced to wait on the sidelines, far away from the danger. He never doubted your skill, and he would never try to hold you back. But he wished that you could be closer to him than the danger. You found it sweet, but preferred it this way. Better you close to the danger than Konig - you would never live if something had happened to him.

And if something happened to you, neither could he.

After dinner, Konig changed into sweatpants, opting to sleep shirtless. ("You're wearing my shirt, after all.") You climbed onto the bed, feeling Konig settle in behind you, wrapping a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You held it tightly and intertwined your legs with his. His warm breath fell against the back of your head as he nuzzled into your hair, which still smelled like your shampoo.

You felt safe. Finally home, finally in your bed, with your Konig. His hold on your body felt protective, something you didn't have the luxury of feeling for the entire mission. You were finally able to relax. You sighed contentedly... the cool sheets, Konig's strong arms, the rise and fall of his chest, the fact that you could sleep in tomorrow morning... It soothed you, and you let the wave of sleep slowly begin to pull you under, bit by bit.

Konig let out the smallest, quietest whine. He knew you were tired. He didn't want to disturb you. But he was still hard from earlier. His cock was so swollen and painful, he was going insane. He couldn't hold himself back any longer, especially not with your pussy just a few pieces of fabric away. He pawed at the flesh of your abdomen, using his other hand to rub down your thigh. Slowly, he began pushing his clothed cock against your ass.

You stirred; you had been on the brink of sleep, when you felt Konig kneading your stomach and grinding against you. You recognized the heat pooling in your pelvis, letting out a small whimper. "Konig, please..." you begged - not entirely sure if it was for him to stop, or to move faster.

"I'm sorry, prinzessin..." he said desperately... "I can't help it, I... mph, I'm going insane... I need to feel you around me, please?" He was now pathetically humping your ass, already pulling down his sweats until he was just in his boxers. You felt his pulsing, warm cock pressed up against you. "Bitte, liebe..." he began kissing your neck, right in your sweet spot.

You moaned lazily. "I'm just too tired, I'm sorry-"

"Schatz, you don't need to do anything." he cut you off with desperation in his voice. "Let me take care of you, bitte... you don't have to lift a finger. I just need to be inside of you right now... please, please..."

His hands groping your waist, his breath on your neck, his lips sucking at your skin... and his pathetic begging, won over your better judgement. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold him off in your current state, and he would end up taking what he wanted anyways. And despite being so tired, you were still aroused... Would you really be able to fall asleep if you deprived yourself? "Alright, love."

"You sure?" he answered immediately, whining needily.

"I'm sure."

And that was all he needed. Placing a kiss to the back of your head, Konig carefully removed your panties, letting them hang off of one of your ankles. With one hand, he pulled the waistband of his boxers down, freeing his cock and letting it slap against your ass. He moved his hand from your stomach down to your pussy, prodding at your clit with two fingers. You rubbed your thighs together, feeling a mix of soreness and wetness, as he rubbed your swollen bundle of nerves between his fingertips.

"So fucking wet for me..." he groaned in your ear, "... even when you're tired, you're so needy." He slipped a finger past your clit, running it along your lips. You didn't have the energy to buck against him - instead, you tilted your hips back, trying to angle yourself to feel as much pleasure as possible. He teased you, prodding the tip of his finger just past your lips, before pulling it back. You whined, your juices spilling over his hand as your arousal grew even more.

"Please, Konig..." you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the desire settling in your stomach, you could feel yourself being pulled back into sleep. Your moans were lazy and low, and your body was limp in his arms.

"I know, love, I know..." he whispered in your ear. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked your wetness that coated his fingers. He groaned, savoring the taste, his erection twitching painfully. "I'm going to fuck you to sleep, liebling. You deserve it, you worked so hard... Just let me take care of you, alright?" He dipped his fingers back down to your pussy, rubbing your clit in slow circles with the pad of this thumb.

You couldn't answer him. Instead, weak, soft whimpers fell from your lips, followed by the quiet clicking sounds of his fingers teasing your cunt, finally dipping inside. A pang of pleasure shot from your core, and your walls instinctively clenched around him, sucking him deeper into you. You pathetically mumbled in pleasure as he slowly dragged his fingers in, and out, and in, and out...

Konig kissed the side of your neck as your moans enticed him, making his length drip with precum as he continued to grind against your ass. He felt your walls tightening around his fingers, greedily sucking on him. He spread his fingers and pushed them against your walls, curving one of them just right to hit your sweet spot. You whimpered and rocked your hips lazily, trying to push him deeper into you.

"Hmm, look at you..." he whispered low in your ear, followed by a soft kiss on your temple. "I thought you were sleepy, mein engel..." he teased. You whined, barely audible, as more and more of your juices dripped onto his palm. "So helpless, so fucking small in my hands..." he pumped his fingers faster, flicking his thumb back and forth over your clit.

You felt the familiar coil tightening in your lower abdomen, and at the same time, you knew you were drifting off to sleep. You moaned as he continued to finger-fuck your cunt, unable to produce more than a high-pitched cry. Your thighs weakly rubbed together as your impending orgasm built in your core.

"Konig, please, bitte, bitte, bitte..." you babbled quietly, your consciousness drifting as your walls began fluttering around his fingers.

Your pleading in German stirred a fire in Konig's abdomen. He growled low, "Gutes verdammtes mädchen, das ist es..." Good fucking girl, that's it... He flicked your clit harder, relishing in the small, high whimpers that sent an electric shock through his core. He snaked his other hand under your side, coming around to gently squeeze at your throat. "Komm für mich, meine müde Prinzessin..." Cum for me, my tired princess... he grunted as he drove his digits into your pussy, curling them to prod against your g-spot. "That's it... yes, yes, yes..."

Your hips instinctively rocked against his fingers, mind going numb as your orgasm ripped through your body. Your one hand grabbed the one of Konig's that was deep in your cunt, pawing helplessly at his forearm. Your legs began to shake as the pleasure overtook you, making you mewl and whine. Your slick flowed freely over his fingers and into his palm, and you heard him growl and felt his cock twitch against your ass. You closed your heavy eyelids, his hand still firm around your throat, feeling yourself drift into the ecstasy...

Konig continued to flick your clit, hoping to overstimulate you for a while longer, until he felt your body go limp in his arms. Your legs were still shaking from your orgasm, but the rest of your muscles were slack against him. He smiled proudly to himself, pulling his fingers out of you slowly. He felt your walls clench one more time around him, as if they didn't want to let him go. He brought his fingers up and once more licked your cum off of his hand, making sure none of it was wasted. He softly moaned at your taste.

"Oh, liebling..." he said lowly, "I'm not finished with you yet." He used his wet hand to pump himself a few times - his cock ached under his touch, red and hot and desperately needing relief. "I said I was going to fuck you, and you're going to take every inch..." he pulled himself down the bed slightly, so that your dripping pussy was positioned right above his swollen member. "... even in your dreams."

With both hands on your hips, he slowly guided himself into your cunt. He stopped halfway, hearing you whimper in your sleep, your brow furrowed in pleasure. Your eyes remained closed, but your mouth parted slightly, sucking in a short breath.

Konig absentmindedly shushed you, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. "I know, schatz..." he said shakily, "I know, I know... you can take it, you're such a good girl, I know you can." He groaned lazily, feeling your walls stretch slightly around him, and he pushed the rest of his length into your cunt. His exhale caught in his throat, and his fingers gripped the flesh at your hips, sure to leave marks in the morning.

Your hips bucked slightly as your pussy squelched, trying to make room for all of him as Konig was balls deep inside of you. He panted, sweat covering his entire body. Your wetness felt so good as he twitched inside of you. Slowly, as he was trying to be considerate of your sleeping form, he ground his hips into you. He moved one hand to the front of your abdomen, feeling around until he found the buldge pressing forward in your stomach. He growled when he touched it, imagining his big cock barely fitting into your tight cunt. He pressed his hand down onto the bump, and your body reacted, shivering around him.

He stuttered in pleasure, biting his lip to keep his moans at a low volume. The quiet sounds of his balls slapping against your pussy echoed through the room, accompanied by his rhythmic grunting and your weak whimpers. His cock throbbed inside of you, sending jolts of pleasure through his lower abdomen with each thrust. His face was flushed and his pupils were blown wide as he huffed, burying his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling sweet nothings in German into your ear.

He felt himself teetering closer to his orgasm - the sounds of him fucking you to sleep, the feeling of the mixed juices coating his cock and his thighs, your high whines and mewls, the lingering taste of your cum on his tongue... He was so close to the edge, desperately trying to hold himself back as to not disturb you, and to last a few moments longer...

"I'm gonna fucking breed you, liebe..." he mumbled, whimpering as his orgasm approached quickly. "... gonna fucking fill you up, and there's not a damn thing you can do... Scheiße, so fucking tight... You take my cock so well, meine gute kleine Schlampe..." My good little slut... He felt your walls clenching rhythmically around his member, and your whimpers got higher and higher, your back arching against his as a second orgasm overcame you.

He felt his cock twitching, and a cord in his lower abdomen snapped. "Fuuuck, liebe, take it, take it, fucking take it, Scheiße..."

His thrusts became shallow and sloppy - he sank his teeth into your neck as an attempt to quiet his grunts and whimpers as he pounded into you, his cum spurting through his cock, filling up your cunt. "Mph, scheisse!" he whined into your neck. He rode out his orgasm, the room filling with sloppy squelching as his cum seeped out of you, dripping onto his thighs and the sheets.

He felt your body relax once more, his own muscles going limp around you. He lazily ground his hips into your ass, his cock still embedded in your cunt, now going soft. He gently thumbed his cum back into your pussy, pushing it in between his member and your lips. He sighed contentedly, wrapping both of his arms around your waist and pulling you closer onto him. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, feeling the layer of sweat that covered you both.

"Du bist mein perfektes Mädchen..." You are my perfect girl... he mumbled into your ear, planting a kiss on the top of it. You stirred gently, your hips briefly moving away from his. He gently held you down on his cock. "No, schatz..." he hummed, eyes closing, "... I want to stay in this warm, sweet pussy of yours... oh, verdammt, I've missed you... I'll never let you go for so long again..."

He placed one last kiss to your neck, before hugging you tighter, his length still buried deep inside you. As he drifted off to sleep, he had one last thought. "Don't think I forgot your promise for tomorrow morning, liebling..."

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