I’m Gonna Say This ONCE MORE With Feeling Because Somehow It’s Still A Surprise To People Apparently...

rb if you’re a bi bitch who loves carbs

So, this is the first time that i publish something that i writed, is part of a gojo x OC series that i just started to write. I hope somebody like its, and if someone could give feedback i'd really appreciate it, i just learned english based on fanfiction.

When Satoru woke up that morning in the hotel room, he was alone. Or that's what he thought, until he saw the cherry strands of hair of the woman that slept with him last night, moving along with the breeze that came from the opened crystal doors that lead to the balcony.

“Why are you awake?”asked Gojou, his voice heavy with sleep, his head still smothered against the pillow “we still have time before the check-out” said, closing his eyes again hoping to sleep some more.

We still have time before going back. 

Just then the woman looked back at him, with a pained expression adorning her already made up face, freckles hiding behind her foundation. “I told you I wanted to talk last night” said the redhead almost whispering, like she was afraid of waking up the rest of the hotel “you know, before you tossed me to the bed” 

“‘bout what?” 

“About us” now he was fully awake, he even sat on the bed, leaving the sheets uncovering his defined torso and arms. Gojou stared at her in silence, expecting her to continue. Leaving a sigh, she elaborated “I’m…i’m starting to, you know” 

“No, I actually don’t know, Yume” it was too fucking early to be having this type of conversation.

“I’mgettingattached” said Yume fast, looking at the wall and avoiding his eyes at all costs. “We talked about this at the start, but I-I just couldn't help it.” she rambled, trying to clarify her feelings. “I think we should end things here.”

“You think that is the best?”

“Of course it is.” She sighed, still ignoring the troubled look that Satoru was giving her. End things here? but we were just fine last night. Yume walked around the room in the really, really uncomfortable silence, waiting for him to tell the contrary, to tell that she misunderstood his actions, that he wanted to give it a try. Anything but the silence. 

But the answer never came. 

So that's how is it? huh.

i never want to animate again

Hallo my friend 🌹

Can you help me recover from the war?

I am Ahmed Jehad, I am 28 years old. I am married and have a daughter who is less than a year old. I live in Gaza in a displacement tent in Deir al-Balah, I lost shelter and a source of income.

My house was destroyed in Khan Yunis and I was displaced more than 3 times fleeing from the massacres. I am trying to protect my family from this devastating war.

I am in difficult days to search for water, food, and necessities for my child.

Help me save my family from destruction and poverty.

My campaign has been/ verified by the bees and watermelon organization for verified/examined campaigns (No. 171) by @aces-and-angels

https://gofund.me/665fbb6c

Please help me by donating

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ahmed Jehad and his newborn survive!, organized by Ashika Jaffar

Ahmed Jehad (28 years old) is living in a never-ending nightmare. He got marri… Ashika Jaffar needs your support for Help Ahmed Jehad and hi

❤️

you’re so delicate, like glass

no cause some of the shit y'all are saying has me genuinely worried that you don't understand the difference between immigration and SETTLER COLONIALISM. y'all do realize that if jewish people just mass migrated to palestine and lived peacefully among palestinians as neighbors and countrymen, then none of this would be a problem. right? you get that, right? you get that our issue was never "there's too many jews here" but rather "why am i getting kicked out of my house." RIGHT?

reblog if youre an idiot. reblog if youre just a fucking fool.

Why is it that the buzz around the Central World Kitchen massacre lasted so long it practically drowned out everything else, but the ongoing, daily attacks on the Palestine Red Crescent Society don’t get any coverage? Israeli settlers have not stopped at Ramallah, the attack from a few days ago that injured multiple Palestinians; now they’ve moved on to al-Mughayir, a village near it, and the injuries coming out of that are equally barbaric. But it’s not just normal individuals they’re attacking—they’re opening fire on paramedics trying to reach those wounded too.

Mama Ricci Knows Best

Part 1 Part 2 AO3

Eddie doesn't know what he'd been expecting. At this point, he knows more about Steve than should probably be allowed. Knows that his favorite color is yellow, that he's terrible with spicy food but always goes for it anyways. Eddie knows that Steve is working towards an education degree out of the city with his best friend (platonic soulmate? whatever that means), should be graduating next year. He's a great swimmer, a huge partier, and apparently an amazing cook.

And really, Steve sounds like an amazing guy, Mama Ricci has done her very best to give the impression that he's as perfect as perfection can be. But that's exactly what makes Eddie skeptical, because, yes Steve sounds great in theory, but it's his grandmother speaking, how accurate can the depiction really be?

Plus if he's being honest, finding a stable relationship is at the bottom of his priority list right now. He's content with his day-to-day routine and social life as it is, doesn't really need more than his hand and the occassional hookup. The single life is pretty chill right now actually.

So yeah, Eddie doesn't care enough to form an expectation, could watch any guy close enough to Mama Ricci's description walk in, and be neither pleased nor disappointed to learn that they're Steve. Surely that kind of open mind would prepare him for whoever he might have to eventually turn down if they happen to be interested. After all, He's too much of a coward to outwardly tell sweet ol' Mama Ricci herself to let up on her matchmaking.

That being said, nothing could have prepared him for the real deal.

For Steve Harrington in the flesh.

"Fuck Chrissy, he's beautiful."

Eddie's eyes are glued onto the hardwood floor, one hand hanging loosely off the side of the couch.

"Like actually gorgeous. I'm talking Vogue cover type shit."

There's a moment of silence that fills the small apartment living room. Then Eddie turns his head and screams–yet again– into the fluffy throw pillow. The sound is muffled but still has enough impact for its intended effect. At least judging by the snort he hears from the kitchen.

"Then quit being a big baby about it and just ask him out. You already have his grandmother's blessing, that's like what? rolling with advantage?"

And as much as Eddie appreciates the cleverly inputed DnD reference– it pleases him more than anything to know Chrissy retains at least some of his out of party campaign rambles– he finds it hard to agree.

"Um. Not necessarily?" Eddie says as he sits up and helps himself to one of the fruit platters Chrissy places on the center table as she drops onto the carpeted floor.

"I mean even if Mama Ricci did tell him all about me, doesn't mean he'd actually be interested yknow? It's his grandma for Christ sake! Guy probably doesn't think much of it."

Chrissy grabs an apple off the platter, bites down on it gracefully like she does everything, a stark contrast to Eddie who is the walking definition of a catastrophe.

"Well? Did he seem interested when he saw you?"

Eddie thinks back to their awfully brief meeting. The smile he'd been greeted with was dazzling, all pearly whites, long lashes over soft brown eyes and tanned features dotted with the prettiest freckles. As much as he loves to imagine that the cheerful greeting was anything more than a polite customer service obligation, it's hard to fully do so when the rest of his stay was met with a standoffish demeanor and a solid poker face.

There had been that one second where he swore he'd seen the guy flush– Eddie can't remember what he'd said though cause his brain had officially logged out of the conversation at that point– but that could easily have been all in his head.

Then again, the moment Eddie had gotten his order, he'd practically scarfed down the meal and ran out. Was it a panicked decision? Yes. But nothing triggers his fight or flight response more than someone that attractive. Like seriously, that shit totally snuck up on him. Thank goodness for his highschool improv classes and fake-it-till-you-make-it mentality, otherwise, he might have walked right back out the moment he'd seen the guy.

"Hard to say." Eddie settles for, and Chrissy hums thoughtfully. He thinks maybe she'll offer some solid advice. Some life changing shit that'll ring true and somehow provide the magical answers he needs to his rather pathetic problems ( it's honestly not that rare of an occurence with her), instead all Chrissy does is shrug and grab another apple slice.

"Whatever happened to 'I know Mama Ricci is sweet Chrissy, but I'm not gonna date her grandson cause of it. That's not how this shit works." Her voice is a lower pitch, meant to imitate Eddie as she throws his own words back at him.

Eddie feels something dangerously close to embarrassment boil at the pit of his stomach from the clear irony. He narrows his eyes at her, debates smacking the back of her head with the pillow, but debunks the idea once he realizes just how comfortable it feels pressed against his cheek.

"Yknow what? I liked you better when you didn't know you were allowed to have a personality."

Chrissy laughs, unaffected by the playful jab–a normalcy for them– at the days she'd spent being nothing more than a dress up doll for her mother.

"Yeah okay freak." She answers and this time fully earns the pillow smack.

Since Chrissy is completely and utterly useless (he's not just going to walk up to a dude that looks like a fucking greek god and ask him out), Eddie chooses to approach the whole thing as casually as possible.

Or in other words, decides not to approach it at all.

Eddie likes to think he can be a pretty smooth dude when he wants to be, but that's only a result of years of bullshitting his way through most of his life. He knows for a fact that if he does that now, he just might–as in definitely will–make an absolute fool of himself.

So Eddie's next few visits are brief, and he spends only a fraction of his usual time conversing with the staff before disappearing.

It's especially easy to keep his visits brief since true to Mama Ricci's words, the restaurant does get busier. There are still the occasional slow days, but the hectic ones are just as frequent now.

Eddie can see that Mama Ricci disapproves of his quicker departures. Even when she's swamped, swerving through a maze of filled tables, she always finds the time to stop by, to place one of her air kisses at the side of his cheek before diving back into the crowd of fussy customers. There's always a little frown on her face whenever he pays and instantly gets up to leave.

But it's good for Eddie because his interactions with Steve are limited to quick professional exchanges– which he definitely does not spend oggling those broad shoulders, pouty lips and that maddeningly perky ass.

Sometimes Steve isn't around and it's just the main 3 and the new handful of summer employers (which fair, the guy probably has a social life outside of the restaurant), and on those days Eddie tries not to appear too disappointed, though he always ends up leaving even earlier.

He thinks he's at least being subtle about it, until the afternoon Max slides him a plate of polenta and apologizes for the absence of Steve on their menu that day. The little brat.

Needless to say, Eddie tries to be more careful with his staring after that. (Especially when he catches one of Mama Ricci's knowing glances while looking around–not for Steve of course..)

But it's a good little routine of avoidance, and things stay that way for a bit.

At least until Mama Ricci intervenes yet again.

It's one of those rare days that start off busy but trickles off as evening approaches. Since the Corroded Coffin gig had been cancelled last minute, Eddie'd figured he'd hop in for a quick meal and be out as quickly as always.

He greets one of the summer employees on their way out, and finds the store empty when he walks in. Max is by one of the window seats scrolling through her phone with her headphones in. She looks up to regard him with a nod but doesn't bother coming over to take his order.

There's Italian bickering from the kitchen, a little muffled behind the curtains, but that's something Eddie's used to hearing at this point. Mrs. Mayfield peeks out, eyes widening slightly when she sees Eddie.

"I thought I heard the bell. Max! Don't just sit th-" But Max isn't listening, still bobbing her head in the corner. Mrs. Mayfield stops mid-sentence, sighs and pulls out her notepad with a weary smile.

"What can I get you Eds?" She asks and Eddie raises a brow as the bickering rises in volume and there's something like a door slam.

"Oh don't mind them." Mrs. Mayfield says. "Those two are always like that. Close but in that way where they'll bicker over literally anything. It's actually scarier when they're in agreement." She explains. Eddie pictures the sharp reprimands he's seen Mama Ricci give some of her workers on occasion, pictures the scowl he'd seen Steve send to a particularly rude customer once. Somehow he can picture how the two as a joined force would be quite intimidating.

"Ah, makes sense." Eddie says, then places his order.

Mama Ricci is the one to serve him, and it's almost amazing how fast the frown on her face morphs into a wide grin when she sees him. He honestly loves her so much.

Eddie doesn't see Steve through his meal, even tries to eat slower so he gets a chance. It's more than a little disappointing when he's done and still doesn't catch a glimpse.

He's tucking his wallet into his back pocket and getting ready to leave. That's when he hears the loud grunt.

Mama Ricci has one hand braced against the wall behind the counter, bending forward slightly. She's massaging her back with slow movements and there's a black bag leaning against her leg. Instantly Eddie frowns and moves forward. He swears he hears Mrs. Mayfield mumble something under her breath behind him, but can't quite make it out.

"Everything okay?" Eddie asks from across the counter and is answered with another quiet groan.

"It's these old bones of mine Eddie." Mama Ricci complains "Can't move around like I used to." Her fingers gesture slightly towards the garbage bag at her feet and Eddie does the only right thing to do in the situation.

He's barely done asking if he can help before Mama Ricci is thanking him, motioning for him to join her behind the counter.

"There's another one inside by the sink. The bin is right outside, just go through the back door and it's on your right." She points through the kitchen and Eddie nods in understanding. He grabs both bags as instructed, and since the space is relatively small, the back door is hard to miss.

It's not exactly the first time Eddie has lended Mama Ricci a hand, but usually the older woman is more opposed to hand outs of any kind. So it feels kind of good– a little odd, but good–that she easily accepts the help this time.

Eddie's swinging the door open with his leg when he sees the sharp jerk of movement. He reels back in surprise, wide eyes snapping up to face equally startled ones.

It's Steve, looking positively cornered as he hides an arm behind his back, lips pressing together for only a second before peeling apart instantly to let out a series of deep coughs. The wave of smoke that leaves with the sound is an instant giveaway.

Eddie waits through the coughs, mostly frozen in place because he definitely had not been prepared for this interaction.

"Shit." He's honestly a little surprised to find that the curse isn't from his own lips.

A few more coughs and Steve finally pulls his arm out to reveal the cigarette stick in his hand.

"Sorry I thought you were my grandma" He explains, pausing momentarily before waving the small burning stick in his hand. "I huh..was gonna quit."

Eddie blinks and finally realizes that being frozen in place probably isn't a great look, no matter how pretty Steve looks with his hair tousled like that and those pink lips curling again around the depleting cigarette.

"I see." Eddie says after clearing his throat. It's his cue to finally lug the two garbage bags out, letting the door shut loudly behind him. He pretends he doesn't feel the way Steve's eyes follow him as he finds the bin in the distance and tosses each bag in.

Eddie doesn't know why he expects Steve to avert his gaze when he turns around, but those brown eyes are still on him when he does.

Steve's leaning against the wall now, cigarette smothered and forgotten, and his expression doesn't betray anything. Considering the fact that it's their first interaction outside of the restaurant, Eddie thinks he's dying a little.

Okay, fuck that. He's dying a lot.

"So." Steve starts, angling his position against the wall so they're fully facing each other. Eddie summons every last bit of false courage he can to sound just as casual when he repeats the word. "So?"

Steve's blank expression doesn't budge, but his full attention is nothing if not overwhelming.

"The famous Eddie Munson."

Eddie grins, looks down at his feet and pushes away the tirade of 'oh my god, oh my god, it's happening.' in his mind. His voice comes out calm enough when he looks back up and leans against the wall opposite Steve.

"You've heard of me?" Eddie asks, voice laced with feigned surprise. He wonders if it's something they'll just skirt around, the clear signs that Mama Ricci wants more for them than just to meet and get along.

"Heard of you is one way of putting it. You've been her favorite sales pitch for like, months now." There's something like exasperation in Steve's tone, but it's exaggerated in a way that makes it playful.

"Trust me. I could say the same. " Eddie answers with a smile that touches on genuine. It shifts to teasing, tilting unevenly to one side in a half smirk as a memory slides to the forefront of his mind.

"Did you really crawl backward as a baby?"

And it's the right thing to ask because Steve stands up straighter, looking positively mortified as a faint flush reaches his ears. It shouldn't feel nearly as good as it does to finally pull a clear reaction out of the guy.

"Christ she told you that?" Steve groans, bringing his hands up to cover his face. Eddie laughs and he feels his nerves calm ever so slightly at the small but significant win.

"Amongst other things."

Steve drops his hands to his side instantly, seems to debate on something before letting out a tired huff. "Y'know what? I don't even wanna know."

And Eddie thinks that's where the conversation will end. They've met now, could probably move up to slightly longer hellos whenever he visits. That counts doe something.

He's pushing himself off the wall to reach for the door when Steve says. "You're nothing like I imagined."

Eddie retracts his hand, wills his heart to relax cause fuck they were still talking. Okay. That's cool. Still talking is good.

"Yeah? What were you imagining?"

Steve seems thoughtful as he crosses his arms across his chest, stature so solid that Eddie has to banish away all thoughts of breaking it down.

"I don't know. She described you like the picture perfect suburban husband. Tucked in shirt, tie, suitcase and everything." Eddie feels an eyebrow quirk, the word husband echoing into the air between them with a weight that makes him stare down at his feet again, heat spreading to his cheek because really, why'd Steve have to say it like that?

He hears Chrissy cackling at the back of his mind, mocking him yet again with a snarky 'I thought you were against the whole settling down bullshit.' which 'fuck you Chrissy', he'd kiss the guy senseless, doesn't mean he wants to marry him. Why is he even having this pointless mental argument again??

"Y'know, works hard but has a big heart, great with kids, always ready to help even when she asks him not to." Steve continues, checking each item off a finger as he recounts it. He's so casual too, as if every compliment doesn't punch at the part of Eddie that is shit at accepting it. "Caring, handsome, the day-to-day kinda superman yknow?"

"Handsome?" Eddie blurts before he can stop himself, having failed to remember that this was just the guy quoting his grandmother. There's a look of amusement on Steve's face, and when his neutral face shifts into a teasing smile Eddie wants to punch something. It has to be illegal to look that good.

"That's seriously all you got outta that?"

Fuck. Eddie curses internally, feels the corner of his confident mask twitch because there's only so much improv he can do, and he definitely did not rehearse for this shit.

He takes the easy way out by waving aside the comment, focuses on the crunch of gravel under his boots as he speaks.

"Well you're right. Wholesome as the description sounds, I'd probably break into hives if I get within a meter of a suit, much less a cubicle. Truly sorry to disappoint though." It's said as a joke, so Eddie doesn't expect the seriousness that settles on Steve's face. A second passes before the guy shrugs.

"I'm not"

Eddie frowns, isn't quite sure what the statement is supposed to mean.

"Disappointed I mean. I'm not disappointed."

And as Steve clarifies, those brown pools track up and down once, soaking in Eddie in a way that's a little too focused to be anything but intense. Something like understanding clicks into place and oh. Oh.

Eddie can feel his smile stretch on its own, knows for sure that he's safe to move in now, to push further. He's envisioning his next words already, something low and suggestive reaching the back of his throat as he takes a step forward.

There's a clack directly behind the door.

It's not loud but it's quiet enough in the back alley to reach their ears.

Both he and Steve snap their heads to the side, brows raising in mirrored surprise before dipping into confusion.

It's Steve who opens the door, and over his shoulder Eddie sees Max first. She's bent over slightly, observing an onion in her hand with too much interest as she..strokes it? Mrs. Mayfield is whisking in a bowl by her side, but Eddie's pretty sure there's nothing in it judging from the metallic sound it's making. And Mama Ricci herself, closest to the door and off to the opposite side, is squinting at her nailbed, but the angle of her body is just a little too awkward for the gesture to appear natural.

The weird moment is interrupted by Steve saying something in Italian. Something that makes Mama Ricci glare up instantly and forces Mrs. Mayfield to look away with shame. Max coughs and walks out of the room wordlessly.

Another second passes then Mama Ricci claps suddenly, sweet smile returning along with a chirpy tone.

"Thank you so much for your help Eddie." She says, entirely ignoring whatever the hell just happened. At his side, Eddie hears Steve scoff.

He's not dumb, Eddie knows they'd all been eavesdropping, watches as Mama Ricci easily lifts a box onto a kitchen counter, old bones seemingly forgotten.

It takes everything in him not to laugh, especially with how thoroughly embarrassed Steve looks staring blankly off into the distance with the reddest flush on his cheeks.

Eddie knows now that he might have a shot, so might as well end the guy's current suffering.

"No worries. I'll be on my way then."

Mama Ricci hugs him once, lets the gesture linger a little longer than usual. There's something like satisfaction on her face when she pulls away.

The moment he steps out of the kitchen, the Italian bickering erupts. Eddie wonders if they know curtains aren't doors, but either way feels completely elated.

He finds Max behind the counter, her old spot now occupied by a small group that's whispering quietly amongst themselves (probably the last customers of the day since they close in less than half an hour).

She gives him a knowing look but doesn't say anything, and when Eddie winks she simply rolls her eyes before turning back down to whatever she's doing on her phone.

Eddie can't help but notice the onion sitting awkwardly by her side, and it's the sight that finally does it for him.

Eddie's still laughing by the time he starts his van.

God he can't wait to tell Chrissy.

_________________________________________

Yeah yeah 3 parts turned into 4. But it's pretty much done so its definitely 4 parts I swear!!! I ended up tagging more people cause im a pushover like that (and yall were too sweet sjsj) but its on A03 now so if you want to be notifed when its updated just subscribe there. I really wont be tagging anyone new on the last part.

@maya-custodios-dionach @newtstabber @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @electrick-marionnett @trikigirl271 @yes-im-your-mom @justanothergirlwithobsessions @mars-the-witch @moviebuff90 @misguideadghosts @raisedbylibrarians @henderdads @gay-stranger-things @kozuuji @gregre369 @trikigirl271 @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @commonxsenss @m-owo-n @adaed5 @iwouldsail @original-cypher @estrellami-1 @punctualhowell @straight4joekeery

Day 326 of the war on Gaza💔🥹

Please don't skip!🥹🙏

A family trapped in Gaza appeals for help to survive

A call for help from Gaza: A family searching for safety

Hello, I am Mahmoud Al-Sir, married to Sherine Hussein, and I live with my father and mother

We live in the midst of the ongoing hellish war in Gaza, trapped between walls of fear and despair

We struggle daily to survive in an environment full of threats and dangers.

I lost my source of livelihood, which made me unable to provide for my family's needs and ensure their safety. The war destroyed our home, forcing us to flee repeatedly and making us homeless.

e are now facing great difficulty in providing a safe place to live, clean clothes, and food. In addition, my father suffers from asthma and needs constant treatment, and my mother had an eye operation earlier, and the summer heat and cooking over a fire greatly affected her eyes.

Our only hope now is to escape this ongoing nightmare and find a safe haven for our family. However, this requires huge financial costs. The coordination fee to cross the border is $5,000 per adult, an amount I cannot afford alone

We urgently appeal for your moral and financial assistance to cover the costs necessary to escape to a safe environment, where we can build a better future for my family and ensure their safety.

We desperately need your support. Any donation, no matter how small, can help save our lives. Thank you for your concern and support during these difficult times.

GoFundMe campaign link ♥:

gofundme.com

Donate to Help shery family get out to safety., organized by Shery Alserr

Dear friends, loved ones and supporters This is my story, like many Gaza stories I… Shery Alserr needs your support for Help shery family