I hate being in love with an obscure man from history.. the only two fanfics that exist of him are him turning out to be gay and cheating on you and him saying he will not die then promptly dying.
Me when I’m scrolling through #cw public sex and it’s all semi-public sex and ‘they might catch us’ rather than, ‘I’m gonna put you on display for everyone to look at.
You legs tremble beneath you, the beautiful town of stardew valley not seeming as interesting as Finally putting your weight onto something other than your feet. The skeletons had beat you, the bruises they gave colourfully paint your body, biting away at your strength. With every step you take you fight the urge to scream and sob, wishing your home was closer to the mines. Finally the sight of your quaint farm came into view, and so did the sight of your husband, Harvey. Sat on the porch on. His eyes find yours immidietly and as soon as he does he’s up and by your side helping you into the house whilst lightly scolding you.
“I’ve told you how dangerous the mines are!” He scolds to which you reply to with a bloody and breathless “you have.” “I’ve told you to be careful.” He lays you on the dining room table. “You-“ you flinch at the wood under your aching back, “-have”.
“And I’ve told you to come back earlier.” He finishes, not allowing you time to reply, instead pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his moustache tickling your upper lip. He peels off your shirt, sighing as you smirk at his actions. He presses gently at the shallow wound on your hip and wipes the dirt and debris from the sticky flesh. You hiss at the stinging caused by this action and he glances at you apologetically.
He slowly, but surely, cleans your wound and bandages you up. The mermaid pendant that hung around his neck dangled in the air between you and you had to resist the urge to reach up and fiddle with it every time her lent over you. He huffs and finally drags his eyes away from his stomach up to your eyes. Bringing up a hand to caress your cheek. “Don’t go back to the mines.. please?” Your lips tug into a small frown and you sigh, kissing the heel of his palm. “It’s part of what I do, Harv.” Your voice still hoarse. He sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead and Helps you up. Guiding you step by step back to your bedroom. Taking it slowly as to not aggravate your still fresh wounds. He helps you sit on the bed and pulls your clothes off to change you before doing the same for himself. Harvey steps over and layers besides you , running a hand lightly over your stomach. “Just be careful.” He presses a kiss to your cheek and turns the lights out. Allowing you both to slip off.
———
The next morning you wake up to a bill from him. 🥰
You know what else I’m sick of? Unreadable captions.
If you’re going to include captions in your video, make them readable. I don’t care if the font matches your aesthetic or the colour soul ruin your vibe. If your captions aren’t readable then it goes against the point of having them. At the end of the day they’re an accessibility tool for the deaf and hard of hearing, not some cute lil prop for your footage.
Either have proper captions or don’t have them at all.
"This is highly inappropriate" Tenya repeats yet again as you slip into his bed. He hadn't approved of you sneaking into his room, let alone his bed. But you didn't seem to care much for the rules, How the two of you had ended up together was beyond anyone.
Now while Tenya was dressed in his signature striped nightshirt and wearing a look of stern worry on his face, the clothing you were wearing was slowly decreasing. Your shirt flung to the floor, your shorts close to follow as more "I can't allow this" slip out from Tenya's lips.
He leans into the wall like it'll swallow him as you slide closer, cornering him and sliding a hand onto his chest. "This is highly inappropriate" he says like it's a catchphrase. "If mr aizawa or any member of staff was to find out-" "if, they were to find out" you interrupt. Leaning up to brush your lips together. Tenyas cheeks turn a beautiful cherry red "we'll receive harsh punishment for seeing each other past curfew.." he mutters against your lips, his eyes fixed on your face, so close to his own.
When you finally kiss him He doesn't reciprocate at first but after a second his hand finds yours on his chest and he leans into you, finally letting his eyes flicker closed.
———
I can image the next day he jumps anytime mr aizawa addresses him, like he's scared he somehow found out. Yous probably didn't do anything, I don't think Tenya would be ready for anything past a make out sesh or a saucy flash of an ankle.
write your own x reader also 17 in soul is creepy as fuck to say
I do write my own ‘x reader’ stories!! My post wasn’t related to that , it was a criticism of the lack of representation through the ‘regular’ and so-called ‘diverse’ stories. and thank you for taking the time to look at my profile such a nice thing to do!! I say that I’m ‘17 in soul’ as another way to say I’m a ‘young spirit’ or ‘young soul’.
It’s a coward move to post this under anon, next time you have something to say comment it under my post.
Sick and fucking tired of white!y/n and black!y/n. When will writers accept that neither of these are ‘diversity’. A race isn’t needed in the story, it doesn’t need to be mentioned ever! Some readers fit neither of these categories and it’s soo easy to just avoid mentioning their race in stories not about their race.
This majorly applies to when writers include some sort of image of what y/n is supposed to look like. Stop that.
If you lean too far into ‘diversity’ it becomes the opposite.
Khan Younis… a city overwhelmed by displacement, suffocating under the weight of tents and silent screams.Families fleeing from one danger into another, with nothing but broken dreams and borrowed blankets.
Children are starving. Mothers spend the day searching for crumbs. Fathers are shadows of themselves, carrying pain they can’t express. No clean water. No food. No medicine.
This is not a page from history — this is now. In Khan Younis. In the dust and mud, among torn tents and empty pots.
Hunger is the only language left. The cries are loud, even if the world has stopped listening.
Please, don’t turn away. Every share, every donation can help.
My name is Motaz, and my wife is Huda. We got married only three months before the war. We d… Adam M needs your support for Help Feed & Hous
Steven grant x reader / Marc Spector being a hater.
Short fic - 279 words
“And the green one?” You ask with a hum, eyes not breaking from the Egyptology textbook Steven has laid across his lap. “Osiris” Steven replies softly, more focused on mapping your face then the technicolour pictures the pages had to display. “God of the underworld” he taps the block of text underneath the god, “so.. like hades?” You ask, he smiles as your eyes meet “Yes, I think so.” The space between you closes as he presses his lips to the skin of your temple, not remaining there long as his lips travel down to your jaw.
“Get a roooom..” his American alter, Marc, says groaning from where he watches unwillingly, in the living room mirror, placed in a. Metaphorical cuck chair. Steven ignores Marc, kissing down your face and towards your neck just to pull a reaction from the man watching the scene. “Mm, watcha doing?” You ask suppressing a giggle, “nothing..” Steven murmurs, closing the textbook to hold your waist instead “You’re up to something.” Steven simply grins and finally pecks your lips “Marc wants out.” He mumbles and rubs his thumb along the skin of your hip. “Marc wants you to stop being so gross.” Marc corrects, finally sitting up “and out.” He shrugs. Steven watches this and grunts, turning back to you. Steven smiles and leans in, pecking your lips. “Love you”, he says against you lips. You smile back “love you too.” He grins and pulls you down onto the sofa with him. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He rubs your back. “Suckers.” Marc mumbles. And Steven simply rolls his eyes and plants another kiss on your lips.
“There might be another option, though”, he says hesitantly. “I don’t know whether it’ll work, and you’re sure as hell not going to like it, Princess.”
You sigh, trying to brace yourself for the worst. “Just tell me.”
He laughs dryly, avoiding your gaze. “Well, we could get - you could marry me.”
Or: Eleven years after the second Quarter Quell, Haymitch Abernathy’s life takes a sudden turn for the unexpected when your name is drawn in the Reaping.
After weathering through a less than ideal start, you slowly start to realize that there’s more to Haymitch than just the drunk, cynical recluse you’ve always known him to be. And though he’d never wanted it to happen, Haymitch starts to feel the walls he’d built to keep everyone away crumbling whenever he’s around you as well.
But the Capitol, and especially President Snow is always watching, and soon enough Haymitch finds himself faced with an impossible choice …
contents & t.w.: mentions of canon-typical violence; angst!!, arranged marriage; slow-burn with a sprinkle of enemies to lovers; age gap! (Haymitch is in his late twenties, Reader is 18 at the start of the story); mentions & discussions of alcoholism; mentions of trauma; eventual smut in later parts; lots and lots of pining and mutual notions of unrequited love; spoilers for SotR (we’ll be encountering many familiar faces throughout the story - also there will be some canon-divergence concerning Haymitch’s arc post-SotR)
AN:I will try to do my best to honor his love for Lenore Dove in a way that doesn’t disregard his growing feelings for Reader. Yes, she’s is an incredibly important part of him and he’ll always love her, but he also deserves some happiness.
key: 🦋 fluff || 🪷 angst || 💫 smut
Prologue 🪷🪷 || After being reaped for the 61st Hunger Games, you and your mentor Haymitch Abernathy are off to a rather rocky start … [5.1k]
Chapter 1 🪷🦋 || Surviving the Hunger Games was only the beginning. As you try to navigate through this strange, terrifying new life, you find comfort in someone you least expected it from, but new threats are already rising … [4.7k]
Chapter 2 🪷🪷🦋 || After your interview with Caesar, Haymitch starts to distance himself from you. What will it take for him to let you in again? [5.3k]
Chapter 3 🪷 || Being back in District Twelve isn’t at all the silver lining you’d imagined it to be [4.9k]
Chapter 4 🪷 || After making it through your victory tour, new threats arise back in the Capitol … [4.6k]
Chapter 5 🪷🦋 || In the midst of desperation, you and Haymitch strike a deal
can we as a society bring back complimenting writers on their work bc I’ve noticed recently that there seems to be a drought of people giving these hard-working writers the recognition they deserve and honestly as a writer myself, it gives me a lot of motivation when people send me love on my work & helps me get closer with my readers which I love because feedback is very important and I love making new friends!! :)
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