Requests

I am begging for ussop/Jacob Romeo x reader plz. Idk how but I need it. I’m begging ugh he’s so fine

Already seeing people on tiktok saying “I still hate trump but he ate with this one” like … babes … you just got propagandized … that’s literally exactly what he created this situation in the hopes you would say …

The lack of shayna x reader is very wild

Gif not mine

Watching the elections hurts so bad. Because it’s no longer they voted for someone I dislike. It is they

- voted against my right for disability accommodation

- they voted against my sister right to love who she wants

- they voted against my friends feeling comfortable in there skin

- they voted against my mother being worth more than a wife

They voted against me and the people I love. They voted against our fundamental rights. And seeing HOW MANY fucking hurts. Do 62 million people really hate my existence that bad? Do 62 million people really think my sister doesn’t deserve happiness? Do 62 million people really see my mother as nothing more than a uterus?

Can 62 million people really be this hateful?

Hi there 👋,

My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔

I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future. 🕊️🇵🇸

Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶

If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏

Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

Unfortunately I can’t donate but I’m sharing your to my followers so they can share and donate

You know what fuck it I'm gonna become an influencer

BLOODLUST

The office was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside. I sat behind my desk, surrounded by walls that held secrets darker than the night sky. My heartbeats were steady, unwavering—much unlike those of a mortal. I am Kamala Harris, Vice President of the United States, but tonight, I felt more like a creature of the night, an ancient being tethered to desires I had long buried.

When Y/n stepped through the door, everything changed. The air shifted, electric with the promise of something forbidden. I watched them as they approached, my gaze lingering on the gentle curve of their neck, the pulse beneath their skin—a tempting reminder of life itself. It was intoxicating, the way their blood sang to me, calling out in an unending serenade, stirring an insatiable hunger deep within that I fought to keep contained.

“Kamala, I thought we could go over the briefings for tomorrow,” they said, holding a stack of papers, their voice smooth and warm—a stark contrast to the chill that often surrounded me. But I hardly heard their words; all I could think about was how close they were, how their presence enveloped me like the darkness outside.

“Let’s put that aside for a moment,” I replied, my voice low and deliberate, cloaking the urgency that bubbled just beneath the surface. I leaned back in my chair, feeling like a predator watching its prey, my instincts teetering on the edge of control. The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating Y/n’s features and casting an ethereal glow around them, making my resolve waver.

Desire coursed through my veins, more potent than any political ambition I had ever known. It was as if the centuries I had lived had led me to this very moment—the pull between us undeniable, magnetic. Could I dare cross that line? The thought sent shivers down my spine, awakening a part of me that longed for connection, for companionship beneath the vast cosmos.

I stood from my chair, closing the distance between us, the scent of Y/n’s blood wrapping around me like a silken ribbon. “You’re more than just my assistant,” I confessed, every word heavy with meaning. “There’s something about you I can’t resist.”

Their eyes widened, surprise mingling with an awakening awareness—a spark that ignited the tension in the room. “Kamala…” they began, but I didn’t give them a chance to finish. The moment hung thick, filled with a potent mixture of fear and longing, and I knew I had to have them, to claim what was mine.

With a sudden, primal urge, I reached out, brushing my fingers against their wrist, feeling the warmth radiating from their skin. Everything in me screamed to take, to indulge in the primal desire that surged within—Y/n’s blood would not only satiate my thirst but bind us in ways that transcended time.

“Y/n,” I murmured, leaning closer, my breath fanning across their neck, intoxicating and overwhelming. “I want you to understand what this means. You are my mate… and once you feel it, there’s no turning back.”

The world outside faded, leaving only the two of us suspended in this moment, caught between light and darkness—a powerful connection waiting to be unleashed under the watchful gaze of the moon.

Pray You Catch Me

The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the city skyline. Bret sat on the edge of a rooftop, his thoughts consumed by the haunting melody of a familiar song. It had been months since he last saw Y/n, and the ache in his heart seemed to intensify with each passing day.

As the lyrics of "Pray You Catch Me" echoed in his mind, Bret couldn't help but where their love had gone astray. They were once inseparable, their souls entwined in a bond that felt unbreakable. But somewhere along the way, they had lost their connection, becoming two strangers who once knew every inch of each other's hearts.

The night breeze rustled through Bret's hair, carrying with it the faint scent of Y/n's perfume - a painful reminder of what they had lost. He closed his eyes, allowing the memories to wash over him like waves crashing against the shore.

He remembered the first time they met, the instant spark that connected them. Their laughter filled the air as they explored the world together, creating memories that seemed impossible to forget. But as time passed, cracks began to form in their foundation, and they found themselves drifting apart.

Bret's heart ached with regret for the mistakes he had made, the words left unspoken, and the moments of doubt that cast shadows over their love. He longed for a chance to make things right, to apologize, and to hold Y/n's hand as they navigated life's challenges together.

With a deep breath, Bret reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He hesitated for a moment before pressing Y/n's number, hoping against hope that she would answer. As the phone rang, thoughts raced through his mind - would she forgive him? Would she give their love another chance?

Finally, a soft voice murmured from the other end of the line. It was Y/n. Bret felt his heart skip a beat as he struggled to find the right words. "Y/n, it's me," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of apprehension and hope. "I've been listening to this song, and it made me realize just how much I miss you... how much I still love you."

There was a pause, and Bret's heart seemed to hang in the balance. Then, a sigh escaped Y/n's lips, followed by a barely audible "I miss you too, Bret." In that moment, hope flickered in Bret's chest like a small flame, igniting a renewed belief that their love could find its way back home.

Together, they vowed to open their hearts, to communicate, and to rebuild what was broken. As the night sky enveloped them, they held onto each other tightly, united in their desire to rediscover the love that once seemed so effortless. With every step they took, they prayed that their journey would lead them back to a place where their love could thrive once again.

Stand for ALL black women

- College Educated black women

- Street Educated black women

- Poor black women

- rich black women

- Gay black women

- Trans black women

- Queer black women

- Imprisoned black women

- criminal-past black women

- mentally ill black women

- sex working black women

- disabled black women

- old black women

-young black women

- loud black women

- quiet black women

- dark-skinned black women

- Light-skinned black women

- fat, skinny, curvy, muscular, athletic black women

- agnostic, Muslim, Buddhist, Christian, Wiccan, Pagan, Bruja black women

- black women that are artists

- black women that cosplay

- black women that feel out of place

- black women out of work

- black women on welfare

- black women working two jobs

- black mothers

- black sisters

- black women choosing to exist in a world that doesn’t care if they exist.

All black women.