#and giving myself impossible targets

[alienducky]

Planning something wildly beyond my capabilities and attention span again when I've already got a zillion things I could be finishing, but so long as I'm having fun it's all good, right?

Haha...ha

Tomorrow I'll work on pirate Coco or write instead of starting this new thing. No starting new thing until at least one other thing I've been procrastinating on is done. I'm covering my screen in sticky notes!

[mariamlovesyou]

tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:

plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."

contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."

on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."

rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."

"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."

"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."

rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."

"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."

"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."

plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."

before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.

on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."

"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."

a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.

she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.

[falesten-iw]

Urgent 🆘️ call: 🚨🍉 Please help..🥺😓🙏

My name is Falastin, and I am a mother of three small children, ages 5 years, 2 years, and 3 months. I am not very good with social media, but I am writing to seek your help to give my family in Gaza the chance to live their lives again.

Due to the ongoing genocide we in Gaza are experiencing, my family need your help to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety.

In november 2023 last year, i lost three of my cousins from my mother's family with their wifes and children's, some of them still under the rubble untill now. 

In mars 2024 this year i lost another 2 cousins in Alshifa hostpital, this shock after three months of the first lose was a big slap into our face, it was a harsh reminder that death didn’t stop, and that none of us is an exception in this genocide, not a woman nor a child, everyone of us is a target to the death machines above our heads.

My family has lost everything. Some of them have tragically passed away, and those who remain are without shelter, moving from one temporary place to another in a desperate attempt to stay alive. Currently "After more than 20 times of being displaced and having to leave our house escaping from rockets and death " they have fled south and are living in a makeshift tent made from plastic bags and torn clothes.

Each day is a battle for survival. Each day, my family wakes up not knowing if they will have food to eat, clean water to drink, or a safe place to rest. Their homes have been wiped, and their children sit sleepless waiting their death. In Gaza, there is no where to seek shelter, no bunkers, nowhere to hide. Gaza is no more than 40 kilometers long and 10 kilometers wide with a population of just over two million. Gaza's border is completely surrounded by fences and barbed wire. The only way out of Gaza is to Egypt.

I used to introduce myself as the youngest in the family but in this GENOCIDE I’m a big sister who see her siblings’ future getting lost in front of her eyes, as i see my brothers kids who are still young and supposed to be in school, my mom who is 73 years old unable to find her medicine, as I see them, I made it a mission to myself to save my family or who’s left alive from it, to save their future from all of this and to escape Gaza.

Despite everything, I still have hope to save those who remain of my family. But I need all the help I can get from every person on earth. This challenge is not easy for me, especially since I am not good with social media and i dont have so many follower to reach and ask them for help. However, I am trying, and maybe with your support, the impossible can become possible.

Asking for your help is the only way I have to save my family’s life and future. Your help can be our hope when hope seems far away. Because of that, I appeal to your generosity and compassion, asking for help so that we can gather the necessary funds to help my family.

Photos of "Lina," who was born at the start of the war, and she is now 9 months old. Your donation could give her the chance to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety with her family.

I would like to thank everyone who has donated, shared and supported my campaign so far. Your generosity has given us hope in the darkest of times, and I am deeply grateful.

So far, we have raised 3,950 SEK of our 2,000,000 SEK goal - August 15th. While this is a small step, it is a crucial one, and it shows that together, we can make a difference. We still have a long way to go, and I urge you to continue sharing our story and contributing if you can.

Every donation, no matter the size, brings us closer to saving my family and giving them a chance at life. Please read and act as if it were your family, your mother, your siblings in these conditions. 🙏🙏🙏💔💔💔💔

Important note: Donation value:

** 1$ = 10.5 Swedish kr

** 10$ = 105 Swedish kr

** 100$ = 1050 Swedish kr

** 1000$ = 10500 Swedish kr

VETTED and shared by 90-ghost, also as no. 282 in The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet compiled by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi and shared in the masterpost.

We have also been verified by Al Jazeera News. Here is the video. I added this video today, august 15th. Its showing my cousin and aunt in the hospital, where she shares how the Israeli army airstruck them with their kids. Listen to my aunt Suad "Em Mhammed".

Best regards,

Falastin and her family.

[tacticalprincess]

MDNI — cw: f!reader, car sex, age gap

farmhand!könig who can’t get enough of farmer’s daughter!reader….

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🌾

he’s always pestering you, making it impossible for you to complete your chores on time most days. he’s addicted to the playful gleam in your eyes when you look up at him, the way your soft body feels in his rugged hands. the excitement that thrums under his skin as the two of you dance around your overprotective dad, sharing a secret that tethers you together long after you leave his shed at night, lingers thick in the air at the dinner table and in passing. the more of you you give to him, the worse his craving for you gets, and the less he seems to care about getting caught.

he sneaks a hand over your mouth and lifts you into his old, beat up truck while you’re taking your dry sheets off the clothesline, the sun hot and heavy overhead. you squeal against his palm, writhing in his hold before he sets you on his broad lap, letting you turn to face him.

“don’t do that! you scared me.”

he laughs it off, already snaking his large, calloused hands under your shirt to thumb at your hip pudge. cant waste any time when he has you alone. insincere apologizes mumbled into the soft, sweat slick skin of your neck, huffing in your sweet scent. “cant help myself with you teasing me like this. bending over in these tiny shorts, showing all the animals your ass.”

you giggle, back arching into the older man’s greedy, firm touch, angling your head away to give him more access to your neck. “the cows weren’t exactly my target audience.”

“talking about me, liebchen.” he clarifies. the strong smell of musk and mud invades your senses, the soft fabric of his white tee chafing against your hard, braless nipples through your flimsy shirt. “dirty little girl, aren’t you? going to get me in trouble one day, i know it. what would your father do if he knew his daughter was trying to seduce his best farmhand?”

he renders your ability to speak null and void when he slots his hands into your shorts and squeezes you for all you have to offer, spreading your cheeks and making you grind your hips down on his hard bulge, the friction from your jeans borderline painful against your clit. groans throatily at how wet you are already, his fingers slipping into your hole to gather your slick before he retracts it entirely, showing you how it sticks to his thick digits. “hm? looks like this cute little cunt missed me too.” a cocky grin plagues his sharp features, smearing your juices over your pouty lips dirtily, just to see your face scrunch up in disgust. he grabs your chin, pulling you forward to lick it off.

it’s all happening too fast, exhilaration clinging to your bones, heat gathering at your core. you look around the field warily, mind racing with doubt but your body betrays you, bucking into his mouth when you feel him litter sloppy, wet kisses along your chest, pulling down the strap of your shirt to let your cute boobs spring free. if it wasn’t hot already, you’re burning up now. “könig, not out in the open like this. what if daddy sees?”

“i’ll be quick, maus. just want to play with you.” he promises, though you have a sneaking suspicion it won’t be over that soon. “can you feel how hard you make me? you’re all i can think about, it’s impairing my ability to work. cant have that, can we?”

decidedly, you don’t want to be the cause of a sudden switch in the quality of könig’s farm work, or at least that’s what you tell yourself when you let him push your shorts to the side, sitting yourself down on his thick, hard manhood. he swallows every heavenly noise that tip from your soft lips onto his tongue, clashing teeth and jaw from desperation. lets you grit your kitten nails into his scalp for purchase, hot bodies pressed flush together in the cramped space while he lifts and drops you down until your thighs start to tremble and lock around him. the heels of your boots dent into your plush thighs, his are planted to the floor as he pile drives his hips into you, thrusts deliberate and meticulous in a way that awakens sweet parts you didn’t know you had.

it’s a shame, he thinks, having to hide away in a dirty truck with such a pretty thing like you. too soft and sweet for a man like him, but his addiction to you makes you impossible to resist. it’s unclear who’s corrupting who in this situation.

if you were back home with him in austria, he would’ve proposed to you already, declaring you as his for everyone to see. as it is, he bounces you on his cock until you’re seeing stars, the ambience of the farm surrounding you, with the slowly setting sun as your witness.

[reshinless]

──── point one, caught off guard.

ᯓ★ ── . summary. when you get pulled in this whole situation, maybe it's for the best, don't you think captain?

��ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ director's note.. hello disciples >< will be answering asks soon, just feels like im spamming the HELL outta kinich works so LOL

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ pairings. capitano x fem!reader

ᯓ★ ── . warnings. nsfw, lowkey hate fucking, cunnilingus, fem terms used, fem nicknames used, reader is a well-known traveler (plus is strong!), SPOILER FOR NATLAN ARCHON QUEST !!! reader strong but capitano stronger:^, reader takes commissions, low-key vision play (I'LL EXPLAIN!!), mirror sex, pwp, slight dacryphilia (shown for a literal splice of the fic)

wc: 2k ★ rated 18+

you never expected to land yourself into a situation like this . . you were a reputable hero, with a reputation that spoke for itself!

you originally hated the fatui, you planned to never ever give any of 'em mercy when you came across them. the rumors of their deeds- all of them unforgivable. the many innocents witnessed dead at the scene. stolen goods. everything you could think of.

" damn harbingers! are they trying to target us specifically?! " one of your past commissioners exclaimed. " it's as if all are damn supply is all gone! " he screams, banging a beer bottle onto the table.

you swiftly dodge the sudden shard of glass coming your way. sighing softly- " maybe . . I can try and find them myself. " a tilt from your head is apparent, he glosses his eyes over you and laughs.

" you think you could take them, really? " his hand lifts up to wipe a tear of the edge of his eyes. " . . yes. because I can."

" alright sweetheart, I get how you're pretty good at what you do . . but you can't be that sure you'll beat the number one harbinger, can you?"

" hell yeah I can! " you stood up, as he offered an impossible amount of resources, going even as far as to offer up one of his business to you—in doubt that you'd beat capitano himself.

as you followed throughout the distant trail of elemental traces throughout natlan, trying to find the abysmal saurian that had been causing your most recent commissioner much trouble before suddenly hearing voices, and getting sucked into a different environment.

your head ached, as you opened your eyes—the night kingdom?! remnants of livid souls whispered and wailed. quickly analyzing your surroundings, it was almost as if no one else was there before a voice materialized behind you. "so you . . are the rumored hero. aren't you? quite beautiful I must say."

your features were unseen to him in all his years of exploring the past of the lands all over the home you all call teyvat (or at least for the year being)

"you must be . . a harbinger, right? those badges on your uniform aren't just given to anyone." your eyes scan him briefly before a scoff leaves your lips. "a smart princess. yes, I am." a smirk from behind the shadows of his headwear grew.

"hmm, i must say, i did not expect such a refined lady behind all the recent rumors or who had been taking out my troops." he hummed. "not that it's bad, don't get me wrong." he took slow steps near you

"how about.. you join my cause, pretty? I'll make sure that the nation is safe right by your side, and as well as the others." he reaches his gloved hand out to you. you simply scorn, "join? i hate you fatui. all the same." to be fair, your impression of all of them were just loyal to their archon, as well as mass murderers with no intentions of mercy. so he nodded. "how about I show you what I can service you with? it might convince you."

in a sense, you were unsure if you could, even when your strength was undoubtedly amazing, surpassing most people. "haaah.. getting- cocky now are we, sweetheart?" a lowly gruff escapes the first harbinger's throat.

the soft plush of your thighs squeezed around his cheeks. his helmet laid out on the floor. if he kept it on he knows it hurt the pretty pussy he tried to taste so badly.

well, that brings us back to why and how you got into this position. A bit of convincing goes a long way, I suppose. (in my head i believe fully that capitano has an unironically long tongue just to give context.)

a long swipe of tongue over your clit was unfurled. another kiss to your cunt- he temporarily removed himself from the blissful taste of the entrance his tongue loved to stay so snug inside, biting the tip of his glove off to remove his glove carefully. his long digits start to replace his lips that previously placed themselves onto you.

"n.. ngh." his thumb rubbed your clit so carefully, you almost try pushing his face off, your hands attempting to grab the strands at the back of his head.

originally you were lured out by ororon; into the domain of the night kingdom. but capitano didn't expect you to be so.. enticing, and neither did ororon, even hesitating at first before actually opening the domain.

necessarily capitano didn't even hate you, no. he wanted you. "s- stop.. i don't want you.." his mouth made a pop sound when detaching itself as he smirked, warm breath felt near your cunt. "let this cunt speak for itself . . I'm spoiling you so much, my queen." a raspy, deep chuckle emits, he wanted you more than anything he's ever seen.

even once his tongue starts to slow down, you feel your hips instinctively grind onto his tongue. but he couldn't keep his eyes off you- such a pretty sight, better than a seventieth-floor view. almost with half-lidded eyes, he looked up at you- an icy gaze glossed over your face briefly.

you could feel your whines already emerge from your chest, your throat almost starting to get sore from all the whimpers of his name. you did agree on trading your assistance and strength for keeping natlan safe

he slowly reaches up from your cunt to your lips, a soft, gentle kiss, much different from how his tongue spoke deep and down below you. positioning your back comfortably onto the stone.

"s'pretty like this, aren't you?" "still- hnn.. still hate you, damn harbinger.." you wouldn't give in, not yet, but archons did he know how to pleasure a woman.

"mmf- easy now.. sweetheart." his cock almost choked- your hole barely even taking in its head. "fffuck- stop stop! hurts!" your hips jolted, and holy shit was he lengthy. and girthy. damn.

"did I now?" a genuine tone was prominent in his voice. leaning in closer, checking to see if he accidentally left any scars, or bruises. "tell me where it hurts." he licked off the essence of you on his fingers briefly before caressing your face.

he.. was much more caring than you expected. such a large, muscly man—you expected worse from him. its not even because he took pity on you either, he genuinely cared.

"i- its fine. I just- 't was something I said in the heat of the moment.. don't worry you didn't."

"and.. you're sure?" he tilts his head, clear in the icicles of his eyes that he was still worried. sure he definitely wanted to fuck but what was the point if you weren't receiving any pleasure?

"yeah, yeah I'm fine."

after thoroughly checking on you, he goes back to what he was originally planning to do. maybe you'd like this position more?

or maybe he should really talk you through it, let you know he's right there, behind you, literally.

your back against his chest—he decided on letting you take him at your own pace. his cock twitched, leaking with precum, but he knew if he wanted the best possible experience with you.. it'd be both of you being pleasured, not just himself.

you swear a minute ago he was all softie and stuff, why did he mood swing so damn hard! maybe you liked it when he basically slammed himself inside you—reaching to the very deepest parts that he can.

you were put up in a position of somewhat on all fours, yet both of your hands were up on the rock for support. capitano's words sounded tender, but his touch (for now) was not.

you yelp, every now and then taking you by surprise and grinding the very tip of his length against your g-spot.

"ssshit.. you feel so nice, princess.." the captain threw his head back, his grasp on your waist softening for the slightest moment, before returning to his usual pace.

a dried-up milky ring had casted itself around the base of his shaft- certainly making it clear for how you both have been at it.

the many times your eyebrows have knit, or the amount of moments wherein you rolled your eyes back. hell—even the rock started to creak.

shit did he just- start to rub his fingers over your clit?! "ahh- fuck, fuck!" you whined as you body slowly got even more sensitive by each second. a squealing sob escapes your throat as the fire that pooled in your stomach was only abrupt before you came onto his cock.

sitting you down onto his lap. his hand briefly reached out to pry your thighs open for him, growing a mirror in front of you, reflective and icy.

you could see how his dick bulged in your stomach, making such a pretty mark for others to see.

"no one could treat you better than I am right now, right? tell me.." his voice just as cold, whispery as the night sky idle with stars.

it sent shivers down your spine. capitano groaned at how well your tight cunt took his width. caressing the rough pads of his calloused palms over the sweet mark in your stomach.

you felt your hips giving instinctive sloppy, yet slow thrusts onto his cock. then a sudden cold grasp landed over your throat as you tried to throw your head back. just the prettiest little groan you could feel vibrate across his chest.

you could see pretty slime-like milk-colored rings stretch each time you tried to lift yourself up to use his dick to hit your spot.

he loved feeling his hands over your waist, down to your hips. "fuck," he grunted, picking you up to pin your quintessential figure against said mirror. you shuddered- feeling all the coldness on your back, spreading to every inch of your spine.

"gonna fuck you like i mean it this time, looking so desperate for my cock when you know I look in the mirror. mmf, s'dirty." holding your waist, fingermarks clear, his grasp careful not to place them on the previous smears.

his tip teased itself against your clit, carefully rubbing against it, and trusted in roughly, making you almost scream.

was he really this long, and this fast? his pace matched that of a madman on a roll. every moan you let out only happened to make him even harder. why in the hell did he keep growing?!

you felt every emotion almost all at once, pleasure everlasting and rushing through your veins. it was almost too slippery down there, shaft sliding in n' out so fast- fuck! you didn't want to admit how good he felt inside you.

he grazed one of his hands over your chest. his breathy moans, he was in love with the way your hole stretched out, and over. your body almost wanted to run away- but at the same time, you wanted more.

"t- takin' me like a good girl, mm?" he chortles, you could feel that prominent vein on his shaft, that ran down to the very base, damn it felt good. "f- fuuuck.. fuck y- you!" almost an incessant whine as you let out small mewls of his name. shit he really could do this forever couldn't he . .

every time he pounded your gaping hole, you'd yelp, was he trying to chase your hole?! you swear you head the mirror your back faced crack!

" 'tano . . mmfffuck! i- i think the . . hnnn . . the m- mirror cracked." apart from your unnecessary incoherent babbles you let out mid-sentence, the captain simply chuckled at your barely phonological words. "even better then, I'll make sure you land on something soft."

"shit," he mumbled as his hurried strikes continued, "s'tight . . fuck you trying to keep me inside you?" your clingy cunt couldn't bare to let go of him. his thumb made small, pretentious circles on your hip.

he leans in further to land a kiss on your cheekbone, smirking as he does. solely focusing on how his dick probably kissed your insides better. how sad that he could only imagine how blissful might your nth orgasm be.

the mirror continued to crack underneath the pressure capitano put into his powerful strokes to your womb. strands of your hair stuck to your forehead, while he started to kiss your tears away, he knew he went a little rougher than earlier.

he felt your nails claw, and scratch at his back. his face leaning in closer to place small pecks onto your breasts—single, separate, independent scattered everywhere.

a teetering edge—you arched your back as you came again. you could feel his sticky, goopy load shoot up into you. a loud wail exited your throat, he knew you probably felt amazing.

you slowly took breaths, exhaling, and inhaling as capitano helped you calm down. resting his hardness inside your hole for a bit 'till it softened. he rests you against the cracked mirror, checking if your back hurt, kissing your forehead.

"so, you want to join my mission now, pretty?"

[bynux]

"don't vote for Harris or you're supporting genocide" "voting blue is still voting for fascists" Then what else do you expect us to do?

Here are some options y'all seem to insist on and why they're fucking stupid:

Vote Third Party :: Until we have ranked-choice voting (and probably even if we did have ranked-choice voting), it is practically impossible to make a 3rd-party candidate viable. There's not enough of the population that's far enough from moderate to give up their "safe" blue vote for some "revolutionary."

Don't Vote At All :: I'd prefer to pick my enemy. If I'm going to be working in spite of the government, or even against it in some ways, I'd rather the people I'm working against not already be targeting me for being queer, for example. If my options are "bad" or "much, much worse" I'm gonna pick "bad" and try to improve things from there.

Violent Revolution :: It's a cosplay power fantasy in the same vein as the Right-wingers looking for a reason to shoot protesters. Assuming you even have enough people organized and enough firepower to pull that off in the first place…have you prepared a plan to keep the innocents alive and safe? Are you sure you can keep supply chains for food and medicines intact? Are you sure there will be resources available for the disabled, the scared, the young and old, those who won't be able to fight and still need to be taken care of? Turns out revolution is ugly and causes a lot of undue collateral damage. Are the lives "saved" really going to outweigh those whose lives will be upended and destroyed? It's not like a newly-toppled, unorganized country will be able to do anything about Israel/Gaza, so you're just hurting and killing far more people than you're saving.

As for the power you do have to better things (and make Leftism more viable as a political stance in the US)?

Work at the level of your local government. If you're in a small enough town or neighborhood and think you have what it takes, run for local office. Be a local face of the left wing; you're far more likely to sway a small town to your views than the whole country, and each small town with a socialist-leaning government is a dot on the map for larger-scale viability, and you can help keep your community safe while trying to build up in scale.

Build community so we can keep each other safe if worse does come to worst. Push mutual aid initiatives, help at food banks, grow produce to donate to those in need, apply to work at your local free clinic, empower local businesses whenever possible so that if there is a socioeconomic collapse, you and those you love aren't left completely without resources.

Protest, and make it disruptive. You can be disruptive without being violent: graffiti, blocking roads, encampments, sit-ins, to name a few examples. Create inconveniences so it gets people's attention whether they like it or not.

Above all, FUCKING VOTE BLUE. You're choosing your enemy. You get to help decide if the government we're working in spite of is run by milquetoast neoliberal war hawks who do, on some rare occasions, actually make things marginally better…or full-tilt Christo-fascists who want to kill some of us for kissing people with the same genitals as us. There aren't any other options that are going to be picked. It sucks, but at the bare minimum we can pick the option that isn't going to actively murder us while we try to build up viability for a candidate who won't sell out brown people to an ethnostate.

If you aren't doing at least one of the things above, then don't lecture me about how I keep myself and my community safe. I'd love to see a United States (or some future iteration of it) that acknowledges the sovereign rights of indigenous peoples, that doesn't fund genocide, that provides healthcare as a basic human right, that doesn't meddle in every other country's business. But if we are to see that, let alone help that happen, we need to survive this next presidential administration.

Edit: y'all have lost reblog privileges. If you wanna screenshot this and have stupid unnuanced opinions OFF of my post, be my guest. Just leave me tf alone.

[saetoru]

[ LOGIC ] ALHAITHAM.

“haitham,” your voice sings, “are you jealous?” you elbow alhaitham’s side, poking his cheek and quirking your brows as an amused grin tugs at your lips. he only grunts, flipping a page of his book without sparing you a glance and pretending that he doesn’t hear you. “i know you heard me,” you pester, “you are jealous, huh?”

“i have nothing to be jealous of,” he says matter of factly, and though you can’t bring yourself to believe him, you have to admire his persistence even if a little.

alhaitham is not jealous—it’s what he tells himself, at least.

jealousy is an irrational concept, especially when two people have mutually agreed they’re exclusive—which you both have done so already. it’s an ugly emotion, it’s unbecoming of the loyalty you’ve pledged and the trust that exists between you both.

therefore, alhaitham is not jealous.

he simply thinks that logically speaking, the general mahamatra has no business standing that close to you when it’s a well known fact you’re in a relationship. based on his observations (which are seldom wrong) making you laugh so easily should be near impossible—cyno’s jokes are about as dry as the desert sand itself. alhaitham thinks it must be a pity laugh. it has to be a pity laugh—cyno is not funny, not in the slightest. and the way your eyes twinkle as you talk to him is not fondness, it’s kindness—because you’re a genuine person, that’s all.

he watches you both talk for one second, then two, and then he realizes he’s frowning. why is he frowning? there’s nothing to be jealous of when cyno is involved, the rational part of alhaitham’s mind knows this.

alhaitham is taller, a lot more muscular, he’s the (acting) grand sage—and though he hates the position, it’s evidently popular amongst the ladies. he’s smarter, and though neither him nor cyno are very social, he likes to think he’s better at analyzing people’s emotional responses and understanding human behavior. and besides that, alhaitham knows your favorite coffee order and where your favorite spot for lunch is. he knows the crinkle of your nose means you have more to say but you’re biting your tongue. he knows you laugh behind your hand because sometimes you get shy about your smile.

he knows more about you than cyno could ever imagine exists. logically speaking, alhaitham understands you far better than cyno, and he should be the optimal choice. there’s not anything to worry about, nothing that should concern him in regards to his (very stable) relationship with you. but then he remembers the way you laughed at something cyno said, the way the general mahamtra looked at you in surprise before letting his gaze soften with a tiny smile.

he grits his jaw and closes his book.

“cyno doesn’t know you as well as i do,” he starts, making you blink before you nod slowly.

“yes, that’s true,” you ponder, “i suppose he doesn’t. you’ve known me for quite some time now—”

“cyno wouldn’t have as much time for you with all his duties. i, on the other hand, leave work as soon as the clock hits five pm.”

“that’s true, you do have a tendency to leave even if they need you to stay—”

“cyno’s position as general mahamatra makes him the target of a lot of angry and dangerous people, which could prove unsafe for you too,” alhaitham continues, cutting you off.

you frown, crinkling your brows in confusion, and you have to wonder—where is he going with all of this?

“well, yeah, sure. but just so you know, i’m not weak. i can take care of myself—”

“i never said you weren’t capable,” he says instantly, “but the optimal choice for who to date would be me—which you made the right choice, of course. congratulations.”

you snort, giving him a side eye that makes him raise a brow.

“you’re hopeless, haitham,” you giggle.

“and why is that? i’ve supplied more than enough evidence why—”

and then you cut him off with a kiss. it’s a gentle kiss, a slow one where you cup his cheeks, rub the soft skin in delicate circles with your thumb, cradle the back of his head and hold him close as you linger and let him steal a taste of you while you steal one of him too.

alhaitham pulls away in a daze, the book in his hand falling to his lap without the page marked before he can even realize it, long forgotten as you press your forehead to his.

“only you would give me evidence why i should choose you,” you say, clearly amused.

“technically, it’s not evidence why you should choose me if you already did,” he retorts.

and he’s right—you have already chosen him, and you can’t say you regret it. sure, alhaitham is hard to read and nearly impossible to predict. just when you think you have him figured out, he surprises you in more ways than one. he’s too smart for his own good, and his impressive (and sometimes irritating) ability to come up with a rebuttal to everything has moments that make you want to peel your own skin off. he’s blunt and sometimes dry and it drives you up a wall that he answers you with that know-it-all attitude of his.

he never lets a single emotion sway his decisions, and you often whine over every minor inconvenience. he reads books in his free time while you look for something to watch on tv. he rarely wants to leave the house, yet you always have somewhere you want to explore or a new place you want to try. logically speaking, it shouldn’t work, but it does—and cyno will not disrupt the routine that is you, the routine that has so naturally knit itself into his life, for even one moment.

especially not with those bland jokes of his that don’t even have a proper punchline.

“just because you have an answer for everything doesn’t mean you need to give it,” you huff, “and i’m right this time. you are jealous.”

“like i said,” he shrugs, “i’m not jealous.”

“oh yeah? so if the general mahamatra requested my help for another investigation, then you wouldn’t—”

“the general mahamatra has made it this far without your help,” alhaitham says dryly, and if you look close enough, you might just make out the beginnings of a pout at the edges of his lips.

you laugh, scratching gently at his scalp as your fingers thread into his hair. “why else are you better for me?” you hum, cupping his cheek and kissing the corner of his mouth.

now that—that’s a question alhaitham will always have endless answers too. he relaxes, closes his eyes and lets you kiss along his jaw slowly as his hands find purchase of your waist.

“we’d be here all day,” he mumbles, “it’s a lengthy answer.”

“i got time,” you wriggle your brows. he chuckles—and when you laugh too, the sound of your voice in perfect harmony with the sound of his, he thinks he’s found yet another reason why.

“cyno doesn’t know you sing in the shower when you think you’re home alone,” he smirks, rubbing your hips up and down as you gape at him.

“what do you mean—”

“and he doesn’t know your favorite orders or the way you like your coffee. overall, the best option for you is me,” he nods, fighting back a chuckle when you roll your eyes.

“you sure put a lot of thought into this,” you mutter.

“of course,” he shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. and perhaps it is—there’s a sense of rationality he loses when you’re around. instead, a sense of rawness, a sense of something dangerously close to hope. “i spend a lot of time thinking about you,” he adds softly.

your face softens, and your eyes twinkle in a way that they certainly did not when cyno was around—and he suspects it’s from a lot more than just a bit of kindness.

“you sure you’re not jealous?”

“no,” he grins, “i’m very sure i’m right.”

“for once,” you kiss the corner of his mouth, watching it twitch as he stares at your lips and fights the urge to chase after them, “i’ll have to admit you’re right.”

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's so frustrating is how often the arguments against us are actually happening to us. we said - you need to watch out, this will evolve into allowing fascism into legal statute. and we were told: you're a sensitive snowflake. you're annoying and stupid and have no concept of reality. nobody really believes that stuff.

but it's indoctrination for kids to even see queer people. it's grooming for kids to even be around queer people. it's disgusting to even put rainbows on kids clothes. it's inappropriate, shameful, still-an-argument. like any of this is new - we know already. for you, even seeing someone unashamed is the same thing as "forcing" it onto you. because god-forbid you confront any internal thought you have. because god-forbid you practice empathy. rage is better, i guess. it keeps you pretty.

this has always been the way of some people - a while ago, it would have been "sinful" for my white mom to marry my hispanic dad. once, in the year of our lord 2015, someone told me that "mutts" deserve a woodchipper. that one particular insult stayed with me - not because it was the first or last, but because there was something so unbelievably violent about it that i couldn't figure out how to hold it. the idea that someone is so assured of their bigotry and rage that they would paint this kind of a picture. even jokingly, even with the anonymity of the internet, it kind of centered things for me. a sense that, for some people, their rage burned so unimaginably large that it blocked even the basic fact of my humanity.

at one point, while i still had enough fire in me to get into long arguments, one of the bigots i was "debating" (being harassed by) said: to be honest, it's about the sex, not the love. between you, me, and the four walls of this blue hellsite, i actually didn't really care for "love is love" as the slogan of our community. it seemed so placid, so gentle, so ally-focused. where was the vitriol? where was the hours i spent agonizing over myself? where was the quiet moments of my life, filled with the sound of other people's hatred? this static that settles over everything; even for the action of holding her hand.

the world is unfair. i am an adult, and without the veneer and small-pond syndrome of my teenage years, the slogan has started sounding more desperate. the more places i went, the more people i met. love is love. love is defending him on a rooftop bar. the drink she throws at me goes down into my shoes while i stand there, wishing i had a better retort than what the fuck. love is both of us, keeping our heads down, the black SUV full of frat boys (?) pulled up next to us, howling, for five whole blocks, until we both gave up and had to stick our bare legs into the thicket by the side of the road, giving over into tick country rather than let it go on any longer. love is a lazy spring afternoon, my hand on her belly, the fan spinning overhead. did you hear the whole thing about target?

did you hear about being the target? that's a fun little parallel, isn't it. it almost feels like the game that-is-about-me is being played without-my-participation. someone wants to set fire to my life, and i have to wait for a response from a capitalist institution. i am watching a tiktok where a white woman under white lights complains about adult swimsuits, even though i think a lot of people would benefit from having swimming options that are not "instagram-inspired bikini" or "impossible to move in but otherwise pretty".

sometimes it just seems so fucking stupid. like, just to check, the rage you feel and the hatred - you could really just avoid all of that by minding your fucking business. sometimes (and this is true): it's not about you, and people don't need your permission. like, i don't understand any obsession with sports, but it seems to make other people happy. american football literally results in grievous bodily injury - and yet there are onesies for babies that say future quarterback. i personally don't love it, so i just don't buy that stuff. i walk by it, and don't let it bother me. there have been so, so, so many times that i was told - "so what if he's a little bit homophobic, if you don't like him, don't watch his movies." "so what if they fired her. don't buy their product." "so what if they wouldn't make a rainbow cake. just don't support them."

sometimes i feel the meaning of it scud against my body, an orca whale inside of me, threatening the boat. it is too large to see from my place; this shadow of a thing that dwarfs my petty other-concerns. i need to find a dress for an event, and florida is passing more anti-gay legislation. i need to text my friend back and confirm our plans, and someone is throwing beer bottles to the floor in a walmart because a different case had rainbows on them. it is a long fall, if i look down into it; this sense like the bottom doesn't exist. like i have only ever dipped my toes in.

sometimes i am unbelievably tired of talking about it. it feels like it has become too trite in my own poetry - queer writer complains about the state of the world! how original! - and then something else happens, and i am here again. i remember that it isn't a moment. i remember it isn't a scattered population of cartoon evil-doers, intent on world domination from behind handlebar mustaches. it is a concerted effort of real people with real power who really-do want to see my end. it is a lifetime of dodging the beercan as it sails out of the back of the van. it is a lifetime of not-kissing once we leave the apartment. it is a lifetime of watching someone protest our existence and then, very slowly, giving them the finger. it is a lifetime of holding my friends' hands and hearing the same agony in their life that i lived through. it is us, together, our faces turned upwards, the night sky so vast, milky way overhead like a lacework zipper.

it is a lifetime of staring down woodchippers.

[holylulusworld]

Death or date? - Flufftober 12

Summary: Lloyd Hansen and you hate each other. More than once you tried to kill each other.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assassin!Reader

Warnings: assassins in love, enemies to lovers, mentions of killing people

Trope: enemies to lovers

A/N: This story was written for Horny Hoes Hootenanny hosted by @yenzys-lucky-charm and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork. I used the prompts:

🍁 enemies to lovers

🍁 the villain/monster has feelings (or thots) for you

🍁 "Wait, what do you mean you kinda like me?"

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

He’s done. Just done. You stole yet another kill. Lloyd is pacing back and forth in front of the monitors at the command center. His expensive loafers squeak on the floor as he tries to fathom that you were, once again, faster than his whole team.

“I should just hire her!” He yells at his team over the earpiece. “How hard is it to shoot a target? Why do I pay you? I should just do it myself!”

Lloyd rips the earpiece out of his ear and drops it to the ground, stomping on it like an angry child.

Lloyd is panting heavily. The vein in his neck threatens to burst any moment. Because of you. Only you. The nemesis pissing in his cornflakes. The thorn in his side. The only wanking material getting him hard lately.

“Fine, I give up,” he grunts and kicks imaginary stones. “She wins.”

You chuckle when you see the newest message on your phone is from your chosen nemesis. Lloyd mustache-enthusiast Hansen.

That fucker ruined mission after mission, always killing your target first.

You paid him back the sneaky way by paying one of his confidants. They give you all the information you’ll need to finish Lloyd’s mission before he can even lift a finger.

“Let’s see what he wants. Maybe more insults or offers to kill me…”

Mustache Dude: I’m done fooling around. Let’s take each other out.

You stare at the message, blinking a few times. He can’t mean… no way. That's impossible.

Well, fuck it. You only live once. Before you can chicken out, you reply…

Sexy Bitch: Hansen, are you talking about a date or death? 🍸 I’m getting mixed signals here.

Lloyd stares at your message for a brief moment. Did he mean what he wrote? Did he stoop so low? He huffs, but eagerly replies.

Mustache Dude: It’s up to you. I’m cool with either solution. I just gotta fit it into my schedule. So, tell me a date and a time…

You snort at his reply. It didn’t take him ten seconds to answer.

Sexy Bitch: Okay, surprise me… You can choose a date and time. 🍹🔪 No matter what, you'll pay for the drinks…

Sending your reply, you smirk. Whatever Lloyd Hansen is up to, you’ll be prepared.

Mustache Dude: Friday, 9 pm sharp. The place where we first met. Wear something nice. Red preferable. I like red. 💃

You don’t reply and leave Lloyd hanging. Shutting off your phone, you debate whether to meet up with the annoying bastard or not…

Lloyd looks around the empty restaurant. He rented the whole fucking place only to meet up with you. If you are up to dinner, you’ve got the place for yourself. If you want to kill him, there will be fewer people to kill.

He looks at his watch, impatiently tapping his foot.

Lloyd looks around the restaurant, as you stride through the door at 9 pm sharp. You’re wearing a stunning red dress. Not short enough for Lloyd to see more than you want, but short enough to give him ideas.

Lloyd licks his lips. He looks at the bouquet of red roses in his right hand, while he hides his favorite combat knife behind his back.

“Hansen,” you coo while stepping closer to glance at the roses. “So, what will it be?” You ask, pointing your clutch at him. You’re hiding a knife behind your back and a gun in your clutch.

“Y/L/N,” he replies, eyes dropping to your cleavage. “Hmm…I kinda like you alive better. Even though, you paid one of my men to rat me out.”

“Wait, what do you mean you kinda like me?" You furrow your brows. “I thought this was a peace offering.”

“Oh, it is a peace offering. The night will end with my face between your legs, making amends for stealing your next kill.”

“We will see, Hansen.” You smirk and snatch the roses out of his hand before pressing your combat knife to his throat. “I hope that mouth can keep up with your sharp tongue. If not, I’ll consider killing you.”

[berryz-writes]

Jealousy

PART 2

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your forced to spend the weekend with Azriel the bane of your existence but little do you realize he doesn't completely hate you

Nfjznxsfdzfdxj this took a while my other WIP’s were distracting me. also ignore any mistakes, enjoy lovelies <33

part 1

It was torture. Downright torture. Pretending like last night hadn't happened was wreaking havoc on my brain. I didn't know how to forget about it. I couldn't.

The memory of Azriel pulling me closer, his face resting in the crook of my neck, the way his gentle hands rested on my waist, his legs tangled with mine pulling me impossibly closer. Gods I was going to go crazy.

Everywhere it went it seemed his reminders were there. The dagger I was using in training was the one Azriel had given me last solstice when mine had been snatched by an Attor. The laces on my boots were from his because apparently mine weren’t sturdy enough. 

“Where do you get your shoes from? These are awful quality” He asked, crouching down in front of me and taking his laces out to adjust them into my boots, all the while muttering about how I could have tripped and hurt myself. 

The coffee the cabin had made this morning on my command was made with a hint of cinnamon. Something Azriel had recommended to make the taste better. He was everywhere I went and it was driving me crazy.

He hadn't even mentioned last night once. Didn't even give me some sort of hint that he remembered or that it actually meant something to him. We had continued the day as if everything was normal, his biting remarks more constant and grating.

***

"We're going back on Monday" Azriel called out to me unwrapping the white gauze from his knuckles. I pulled out my dagger (yes the same one Azriel had gifted me) from the target piece of wood and frowned. Two days later? "Why aren't we going today?"

Azriel didn't look at me, instead he put his daggers in his belt making sure each one was in the proper position before replying "If I've said it there's probably a reason why. Do you have to ask questions every time?"

My frown deepened as I surveyed him from this distance. He had his wings folded together and his expression was foul as if a personal wrong had been done against him. So what if he was in a mood? Didn't mean he had to be so rude.

"I'm not going to follow your orders blindly. Tell me" I moved closer to him and stopped in front of him, the biting cold of the village hitting me now that I had stopped training. I waited for him to explain why we were spending any longer in a place like this. I yearned for the liveliness and warmth of Velaris. The golden sun beating down on me while I sat on the balcony and sipped on something cold.

We had been gone for one night and I know I was being dramatic but Azriel not giving me answers just annoyed the shit out of me even more.

He continued arranging his daggers and straightening his siphons until he deemed them perfect. Finally looking up to meet my eyes I could tell there was something wrong before he even opened his mouth. 

"There's a storm coming. It's not safe to fly tonight" His voice was controlled, as if he were trying to hide his emotions, his eyes not making direct contact with me.

I let out a scoff "And what? Winnowing doesn't exist anymore?" I knew the way I said it would rile him up. Yes I could have phrased it nicely but the way he was acting he didn't deserve it.

Eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching Azriel took a step closer to me. And then another until he was just inches away from me. His warmth radiated to me, my head having to tilt up slightly so I could look at his gorgeous face properly.

His voice was soft, the deadly stillness with which he stood unnerving me. "Velaris's shields have been compromised. Rhys is doing all he can from anyone finding out and if we break that balance. If we winnow in then that means the shield breaks." He scanned my features as if waiting for me to reply "Do you want the safety of all those people in jeopardy because of you?" His voice was quiet now, his breath blowing over me as he spoke.

A million thoughts invaded my mind as I thought of what he had stated. How had Velaris been compromised? And by who? And what was Rhys doing? I wondered if everyone back home was alright.

I took a deep breath trying not to get angry and understand the situation we were in “How long are we stuck here for?” 

It was Azriel’s turn to take a deep breath as if he knew the answer wouldn’t be one I wanted. “Minimum two more days''

Two whole days. I was going to go insane here. Either I would die from arguing with the brainless Illyrians or from hypothermia. A sudden blast of cold air hit me, reminding me of where I was stuck and who it was with. Sighing, I shook away my thoughts. I was being ungrateful. Azriel wasn’t so bad. And who knew what everyone else was going through. I opened my mouth to ask exactly that when he cut in “Everyone's fine. If it was serious we would have been called back for help whether the storm was brewing or not”

I nodded my head, the knot in my stomach loosening. As long as everyone was fine. Azriel nodded his head to the path that led to the cabin we were now sharing “You should go. I need to inform Keller of our prolonged stay”

I took it as his way of dismissing me and not wanting to talk to me. Turning around and starting down the frosted path, the warmth that engulfed me from Azriel's body evaporated completely, my footsteps quickening to reach the cabin. Slamming the cabin door shut I took out my hair tie and sat on the bed anger and disappointment flowing through me. The fire immediately started, the crackling sound the only noise in the wooden house. 

He was ignoring what had happened yesterday. He was being insufferable. He hadn’t even asked me, talked to me, mentioned it to me even once. I shifted through each word we had shared this morning and none of them consisted of him acknowledging last night. 

Azriel didn’t even tell me he wanted to forget last night, instead he let my imagination run wild on thinking if he regretted it or not. 

Maybe I was the over dramatic one. We hadn’t had sex, we hadn’t even kissed. But it felt like there was something else when he pulled me closer except for mutual dislike. 

Flopping back onto the soft bed I decided thinking of other things would do me some good. Anything other than Azriel at this point. 

Sitting up again and rifling through the side table drawers I finally found a slightly inky pen and a scrunched up piece of paper.

Hi Feyre, I heard what happened with the shield. I just wanted to check in and make sure everyone was fine. Give lots of kisses to Nyx from me. 

Ending the note with my name I vanished it away hoping Feyre would reply with some good news. In the time that I had done that Azriel walked in, flipping a dagger in his hand, his shadows moving slowly across his wings. I rolled my eyes at his arrogance and refused to start a conversation with him. If he could ignore what happened yesterday and act like it didn’t matter then so could I. I wasn’t going to act like an attention whore. No way. 

“What do you want to eat?” Was what he asked, settling into the armchair opposite me. I refused to look at him and instead let my eyes travel to the window where the sun was setting. 

“I’m not hungry” I finally replied when I could tell from his relentless gaze that he would not look away, his hazel eyes fixated on my every move, my every breath. 

A scoff escaped him and I turned to look at him, my eyes narrowed. Moving further back on to the bed I kicked off my boots and sat cross legged. 

“You’re always hungry at this time, don’t lie to me” Azriel stated. Raising an eyebrow and waiting for me to contradict him. I couldn’t. I was being annoying and difficult on purpose. Of course I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten since this morning.

Running a hand through his hair Azriel stood up and moved over to the small kitchen on the other side of the cabin. The cupboards contained any and every ingredient. I watched as he pulled out a different variety of ingredients and with the way he was looking at each one closely he didn’t know where to start. 

“Move. I’ll do it” I announced, getting off the bed and sliding across the floorboard to the mini kitchen. Azriel leaned sideways on the countertop, a slight smirk on his face as he watched me look at each ingredient. 

“What are you going to make?” He asked, clearly amused by something. Picking up the can of tomatoes I put them to the right, making a useful and bin category. 

“It doesn’t matter what I make, we both know you’re going to eat it” I replied, my eyebrows furrowed from concentration and the slight annoyance I held toward him. A sigh escaped his perfect lips as he folded his wings back 

“Why are you angry at me?”

I didn’t look at him, instead filled the metal pan with water and used my magic to heat it up. Once the bubbles had risen to the surface I added the raw pasta with a pinch of salt. 

“Y/n” His voice was sharp. Demanding. “Look at me” 

Finally turning to look at him my heart stopped beating for a good minute. Gods he was……he was something else. His warm eyes raked over my expression as if trying to find the reason for my annoyance, his lips looking as inviting as ever.

“What?” My voice didn’t come out as strong as I wanted to, instead it came out quiet and breathless. 

“What have I done wrong?” Azriel’s voice was softer than I expected, reminding me of last night. 

I decided to take the leap. I had had enough of evading the truth “You’re acting like last night didn’t happen. You’re ignoring me” 

Rather than an annoying smirk or a laugh coming from Azriel his eyebrows furrowed “I didn’t want you to feel like I expected something of you. And gods knows I can’t ignore you y/n. You’re perfect”

I let out an exasperated sigh, the steam from the boiling water making it warmer than it was before “I thought you wanted to forget about it. I’m not inside your brain Azriel”

Anger was there in his eyes but it vanished as soon as he saw my hurt expression “I’ve wanted you for so long. Every time I look at you I'm reminded that you aren’t mine. Every time you smile my heart beats faster and I don’t even know why” I swallowed at his words. What he was saying. 

He had liked me this whole time and I hadn't even realized. We were both as ignorant as each other. It was now or never.

“Make me yours then Azriel” I whispered back, waiting to see what he would say. His hands tilted my chin up and his lips met mine in the softest kiss possible. Moving his hands to my waist he lifted me up and sat me on the counter, slotting himself between my legs. Automatically my hands went to his curly hair, pulling him impossibly closer. 

The world had something against me I thought as the note I had sent Feyre arrived next to me. Azriel moved slightly back, giving me space to breathe. I didn't want that space but I didn’t say anything. I picked up the note and read it out loud, confusion increasing.

Hi y/n, 

Nyx says he misses you lots and wants you to come back. Everyone’s alright here, same as when you left. 

I’m not sure what you mean by the shield though? Is everything alright?

Putting the note down I slid off the marble top and looked at Azriel, hoping for answers. 

“Does Feyre not know about-” 

He cut me off, his hand against my mouth, startling me. His body pressed against mine, my back against the kitchen counter. 

“I lied. I wanted to stay with you for as long as possible. I would ask for your forgiveness but I’m not sorry for what I’ve done” His eyes twinkled with amusement, his deep voice washing over me. It took me a while to understand what he was actually saying, his proximity short circuiting my brain. He removed his hand waiting for me to reply. 

“Anything else you’ve lied about Shadowsinger?” I finally asked, my words coming out quietly.

His head dipped to my neck, his lips pressing small kisses on my collarbone and making his way up to my jaw. 

“I broke the cabin. I also fucked up that guy who called you a whore. Other than that…I’m an honest male” He murmured. My breath hitched as he attacked my skin, clearly wanting to leave a mark there. His hands had me caged, with no escape and I didn’t have it in me to be mad at him for lying. Yes he had broken the cabin. But if he hadn’t we wouldn’t have spent the night together and I would have never realized that Azriel harboured feelings for me. He had also gone out of his way to defend me when he didn’t need to.

I wanted to kiss him rather than shout at him for his confession. 

“I say we skip to dessert” Azriel whispered, his eyes full of desire, finally looking at me. My heart skipped a beat at his words but I swallowed and shook away my want for him. 

“Dessert is for after” I pushed against his chest to let me go but he held my wrists firmly “Promise I get dessert?”

I pretended to think about it, tilting my head “Hmm we’ll see”

Azriel’s eyes darkened but he let me go, my stomach tightening at the way he looked at me. I wanted him so bad. So god damn bad. But now that I had told him to wait I couldn’t go back on my words. Not to mention Azriel was probably already thinking of ways to make me beg for him.

I wouldn’t mind that of course.

MASTERLIST

[won4kiss]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— CIGARETTE DAYDREAMS

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. stranger! lee heeseung x fem! reader. synopsis. in which you’re starting to give up on life after years of being tormented and bullied ,, and then suddenly he appears. genre. angst ,, fluff. wc. 1503. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ i was writing this with cigarette daydreams on repeat so now im sad why do i do this to myself. ☹️ <3 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please like & reblog !! ‹𝟹

YOU WIPED AWAY THE TEARS STREAMING DOWN YOUR FACE, BUT IT WAS A LOST CAUSE. the rain was pouring harder than ever, soaking through your thin jacket and leaving you shivering.

school had been unbearable today, as it often was. the whispers, the taunts, the constant reminder that you didn’t belong.

you were the poor girl, the one with hand-me-down clothes and an empty lunchbox. it didn’t help that your family’s financial troubles were well-known; kids could be cruel, and they nitpicked every single thing about you.

you trudged along the sidewalk, the weight of your wet backpack pulling at your shoulders. you didn’t even bother taking the bus anymore. it was just another place where you were an easy target. walking home in the rain was better than enduring more whispers and laughs.

lost in your thoughts as your body shook with every cry, you didn’t notice the sleek black car pulling up beside you until the window rolled down. you glanced over, startled, and your eyes met a handsome boy with big, round bambi-like eyes.

he was sitting in the back seat, looking at you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. his pristine uniform and polished appearance was definitely a contrast to your bedraggled state.

“hey,” he called out, his voice soft but warm over the sound of the rain. “are you okay?”

you wanted to shrug it off, to say you were fine, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. instead, you just shook your head, tears mingling with the raindrops on your cheeks.

the man’s expression softened. “do you want a ride home? you look like you could use one.”

you hesitated. accepting help from someone like him, a rich student from a private school, felt strange. but the genuine look of kindness in his eyes made you nod reluctantly, praying to god that this wasn’t some other sick joke. besides, how could it get any worse?

he opened the door, and you climbed in with hesitation, you felt the warmth of the car enveloping you immediately.

the boy’s driver started the car again, and you sat in silence for a few moments, the tension easing as the heater dried your clothes.

“what happened?” he asked gently, breaking the silence.

“why were you crying?”

you sighed, the weight of the day pressing down on you. “it’s nothing. just...school stuff.”

he frowned, clearly not convinced. “doesn’t seem like nothing. you can talk to me, you know.”

the sincerity in his voice surprised you. you didn’t expect someone like him to care. “it’s just...i don’t fit in,” you admitted quietly.

“people make fun of me because i don’t have nice clothes or money. they make me feel like i’m less than them.”

his jaw tightened at your words, and he looked out the window for a moment before turning back to you. “that’s not fair. you’re worth just as much as anyone else, we’re all human at the end of the day.”

his words made your heart ache. you wanted to believe him, but years of bullying had destroyed your self-esteem. “thanks, uh..” you whispered, not knowing what else to say as you didn’t know the boys name.

he let out a soft giggle as he stuck out his hand to shake yours,

“lee heeseung.”

from that day on, heeseung made it his mission to look out for you. he would find you after school, waiting to walk you home or offer a ride. he became a friend, a protector, and a source of comfort to you.

slowly, you began to open up to him, sharing your hopes and dreams for the future.

in turn, he shared his life with you, showing you that wealth didn’t shield him from loneliness or pressure.

one afternoon, heeseung came to pick you up from school, his usual smile immediately replaced with a concerned frown as he saw the scene in front of him.

two boys from your class were leaning on you, laughing as they made you carry their bags. you were struggling under the weight, your face flushed with humiliation and discomfort.

“hey!” heeseung shouted, storming over. “get away from her, assholes.” he said with an unfamiliar, dark gaze- different from the soft and gentle look he always gives you.

the boys looked up, surprised to see someone like heeseung at your school, his private school uniform almost mocking them.

they sneered, “why help her man? she’s just some broke bitch, don’t concern yourself-“

but before they could continue, heeseung was on them. he grabbed the nearest boy and shoved him away from you, his eyes blazing with fury as he got on top of him and threw punches after punches onto the man begging for him to stop.

“touch her again, say anything or even look at her again and you’ll regret it,” heeseung growled.

“i’ll make sure you’re expelled and sued. you think you can mess with her because she doesn’t have money? think again.”

the boys, realizing they were outmatched, scrambled away, leaving their bags behind. you stood there, stunned, watching heeseung’s chest heave with anger. when he turned back to you, his expression softened immediately.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle again as he felt his eyes well up with tears as he thought about you having to endure this everyday.

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “thank you, heeseung. you didn’t have to do that- no one’s ever done that for me..”

he shook his head, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “of course i did. no one should ever treat you like that again with me around.”

seeing the cuts and scrapes on his knuckles, you frowned as you you took his hand and led him to a nearby bench.

“let me take care of you now, hee.”

you pulled out a small first-aid kit from your bag, one of the few things your mother insisted you carry after she saw you come home with bruises from a bully.

you cleaned his wounds carefully, your fingers trembling slightly. heeseung watched you, his gaze intense but still comforting you.

“why are you so nice to me?” you asked quietly, not looking up from his hand.

heeseung was silent for a moment, then he sighed. “because you’re special, y/n. you deserve better than what you’ve been given.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you finally met his eyes. there was something there, something that made your chest tighten with a strange feeling you haven’t felt before.

“i like you, y/n,” heeseung confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“i’ve liked you since the day i saw you walking in the rain. you’re strong and kind, and you don’t deserve to be treated like this when you’re the warmest soul i’ve ever met in all my years of living, i’m so in love to the point where i feel sick.”

tears spilled over your cheeks again, but this time they were tears of joy. “i love you too, heeseung. you’ve been so good to me, you make me feel like life is more than living in agony, you taught me that people can have good in them too.”

he grinned at you with a lovesick look as he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. but you didn’t. you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting in a gentle, soft kiss.

you cupped heeseung’s face as he grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist- not planning on letting you go anytime soon, now and forever.

the feelings going through you were completely indescribable- you know the feeling of watching fireworks go off at a summer carnival at the very top of the ferris wheel? that’s how you felt kissing lee heeseung.

as you pulled back, heeseung smiled, his eyes shining with love and happiness.

“i’m not going anywhere, y/n. you’re stuck with me now.” he said nudging his nose against yours as you giggled.

you felt a warmth spread through your chest. for the first time in a long time, you felt hopeful.

you had someone who cared about you, someone who saw your worth. and with heeseung by your side, you weren’t gonna let the words from your classmates get to you anymore- you knew your worth.

walking home that day, hand in hand, you felt the world around you shift. it wasn’t perfect, and there would still be challenges ahead of you. but with heeseung’s support, you felt stronger, braver, and hopeful.

the rain had stopped, and the sun was beginning to peek through the clouds, casting a golden glow on the path ahead.

you glanced at heeseung, his face resting with a grin and looking content. he looked back at you, squeezing your hand gently.

in that moment, you knew that no matter what happened, you wouldn’t be alone anymore, you didn’t have to suffer anymore.

you had found a friend, a protector, and even something more.

and that made all the difference in the world.

© won4kiss 2024

taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @shawnyle

send an ask or lmk in the comments to be added !! ㅤㅤ(ꈍᵕꈍ)ㅤ

[bluelocksource]

Michael Kaiser’s trivia (src: EGOIST BIBLE 2)

☆ Character's color: Metallic Blue.

☆ Weapon : Kaiser Impact.

☆ Birthday: 25th December.

☆ Current age: 19 (at the start of NEL).

☆ Zodiac: Capricorn.

☆ Nickname: "Blue Rose Emperor"

☆ Birthplace: Berlin, Germany.

☆ Family: Father. Himself.

☆ Current height: 186 cm.

☆ Foot size: 28 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right.

☆ Blood type: A.

☆ Visual acuity: 0.9 in both eyes.

☆ Grip strength: 80 kg.

☆ Motto: "Become the symbol of impossibility."

☆ Team: Bastard München.

☆ Starts playing football: At age 15.

☆ Interest: Psychology, philosophy, and human behavior principles.

☆ Favorite food: Rusk made from the crust of bread. "When I was a kid, I used to get those from a local sandwich shop before they were thrown away. They’re really good, whether sweet or garlic-flavored." 

☆ Dislike/hated food: Milk. "It reminds me of unpleasant things. Plus, I just hate the smell. It’s gross."

☆ What goes best with rice:  "I don’t really eat rice. Let me know what’s good. "

☆ Favorite animal: Stray dogs.

☆ Favorite season: Winter. "I feel at home with the loneliness."

☆ Favorite movie: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

☆ Favorite music: "Desperado" by Eagles.

☆ Frequently used app: Healthcare app. "Every morning I would measure my pulse to feel alive through numbers."

☆ Favorite football player: None.

☆ Favorite subject: "I haven't really attended school, so I don't know."

☆ Weak subject: "I don’t know because I haven’t been to school."

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: "What’s that about? Chocolate? Mushroom will do."

☆ Ideal type: "Someone who is beautiful, smart and affectionate."

☆ Fixation: Despair. "I want to experience the deep immersion of that person."

☆ What would make him happy: Being targeted. "The thought of eliminating them gives me a thrill."

☆ What would make him upset: Presents. "I don’t know how to react, and I really don’t want them. Just go away." 

☆ What he thinks his strength is: “The ability to look down on all 'humans'."

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: “My crazy bed hair. I wake up really poorly.”

☆ What made him cry recently: “When I choked myself, tears came out. I laughed when I saw my face in the mirror.”

☆ Usual sleeping hour: 8 hours (7 hours + 1 hour)

☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: 800. "Apparently, they were delivered to the team clubhouse."

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: Left chest.

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: "I don't really care. I guess I'll buy a rose garden."

☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: "Such things never arrived. That kind of thing doesn’t exist."

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: Freedom.

☆ How he spent his holiday:  "Take a leisure shower, read, think about the people I want to kill and myself, then take a dump and go to sleep."

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: "Regret. I think there were other ways to live. If tomorrow were the last day, I’d feel that way."

☆ Favorite historical figure: Nietzsche, Freud, Napoleon. "I want to talk to these three."

☆ If he hadn't encountered soccer, what will he be doing: Crime. Starve to death.

☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: "My soccer ball."

☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The future. "There’s no salvation in the past, so the future is better. I want to see if there’s no salvation in the future either."

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (viii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : the triplets' birthday party is a perfect place for flirting, tension, and... well, matt and y/n's forte.

warnings : use of alcohol, weed and smut ( just a lil flithy icl ), beware that the word count on this ho is crazy - meaning i did not proofread!

mickey speaks : this took a MINUTE to get out im sawrryyyy. i tried to fit everything into one part and ended up rewriting almost the entire part last minute (which is most of the reason why this is very delayed), sooo hope you love??? bc i dont lmfao also the triplets r a couple yrs older in this (turning 23)

THIS IS PART EIGHT GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST!!!

"JESUS, matt. can you take this seriously, please?" chris scoffs, taking the dry-erase marker cap from its awkward spot between his teeth.

matt's not one to continue adding his opinion knowing it won't be listened to. he prefers to leave the impossible-to-get-a-word-in debating to nick and chris who have no problem yelling over each other to the point that they don't even know what the issue ever was.

so he's found comfort in sitting at the dining room table with his eyes firmly closed and arms used as a pillow for his head, leaving nothing but a dollop of his hair to be shown, or as he told chris "attempting to find peace for myself while living with you chaotic fucks."

"what could you possibly want from me?" matt asks without moving from his face down position, voice muffled and strained.

"i want you to fight for your opinion! don't you care about what we do for our birthday?!" chris stresses while nick rolls his eyes and falls into a bored stance, leaning against the dark marble counter.

matt finally raises his head causing his face to scrunch up and eyes to squint due to the sudden and bright change in lighting, "no? i actually don't give a shit, chris."

chris first feels the instigator within him sighing in defeat only for his pride to take center. he figures if nick has practically given up and matt cares so little, that gives him all of the creative action for birthday plans. exactly what he wanted.

his lips form a tight line to hide his satisfaction as he shakes his head slowly, unevenly wiping his hand across the magnetic white board (that he used to write the many ideas thrown around in his head, mistakenly thinking a visual would narrow things down for him and nick). “‘kay. then i’m getting nate to help plan us a house party and it'll be fucking perfect. because i care.”

౨ৎ

you've never been so grateful of your front door's placement this close to the kitchen. but carrying three cake boxes and a tote bag the size of your torso, desperately needing to put them down after traveling up three flights of stairs, will surely be the task that brings that gratitude out of you.

though when you arrive, your scrunched eyebrows and pouted lips are an apparent contrast to the enthusiastic vibe of your kitchen- with andrea moving her hips to the lines of spanish dancing in the air, waiting patiently for the sizzling indication of her fried egg's tenderness, and the use of pink lemonade-colored towels or handles on utensils (that made you and andrea way too happy during one of your first target runs as roommates) scattered around.

drea finally notices you when your metal keychain clanks against the countertop, "y/n!" her excitement slightly dulls with her widened eyes when she gets a better view of your face, turning the stove off and coming closer to hug you. "hi, good morning-ish. are you feeling okay? ...or, like, sad?" you silently accept her gesture and tuck your head in her neck while she caresses your hair with a sigh, "or both at the same time...?"

your response is a breathy sigh and pause before the words tumble out, "m'fine, i think. just overestimated myself a little with staying up so late." you remove your head from her neck and move backwards to lean against the countertop, fanning your hands to create a much needed breeze, "and i'm so hot, it's making me feel gross."

andrea peers into the clear plastic cutout on top of one of the boxes, "at least the cakes look nice."

a week ago you set your mind on gifting the triplets their own cakes for their birthday (thinking that sharing a day was already enough, no way would you want them to have to share and agree on only one cake). you easily gathered their cake preferences by sneaking it into any random conversations you'd have with each of them.

and after a week of planning and preparing, was it so bad if you wanted a fun night in with your roomie? andrea warned you several times to go to bed considering you'd be up at 5:30 the next morning, but you insisted that you'd be fine and asked her to help you clear the rest of the box-wine in the fridge.

you could tell matt was a little irritated that you chose rewatching episodes of a sitcom and "cheap ass box-wine" over sex with him (of course throwing the fact that his birthday would be arriving in only a few hours right in your face) but you pioneered and assured him that you'll make time for him the next day, while also sweetly reminding him that you too have a life outside of this exchange.

at midnight you sent the triplets a group message to congratulate. and a few minutes later you left andrea on the couch for your room, sending matt a birthday text of his own (because you did feel the tiniest bit guilty for rejecting him earlier) paired with a picture with your shirt lifted, hem tucked behind your teeth, and your boobs sat in a sheer bra with decorative white trimming and a bow in the center.

he didn't respond for almost an hour and you tried to not feel embarrassed or overthink his reaction at all.

you couldn't stand the giddiness that came over you (you'd blame it on being the slightest bit tipsy) when you finally got into bed to find his response gentle, in his own matt-kind-of-way, with your image loved and a grayed bubble text reading: "Very pretty, thank you"

"thanks, drea. they were a bitch to make." water drowns out your voice as you start to wash your hands in the deep sink. you run your soapy fingers over a small cut you got when dealing with an irritating cardboard box earlier, finding the stinging of the hot water a wonderful kind of bitter that further plays into your foul mood.

"mmm... i'm sure. but it's not like you can even tell. they almost look store-bought," she attempts to flatter you, turning her head from the packaged desserts to offer a smile.

when you're sweet you're the most ripe, juicy peach, eveyone knows this. but god, when you're feeling down you really are the most cranky, green apple that could force a pucker onto even the most undaunted. your face is dragged of any aloofness or sunshine with your dry response as she turns to resume her breakfast, "uh huh. you don't have to coddle me. i'll get over myself soon, i promise." you dry your hands.

andrea would argue she's not coddling only looking out for your well being- because she wants to and knows if she were neglecting her needs you'd be right on her ass as well, "okay...and did you eat?"

"just like, a bagel before i left," you open the fridge and let the door hang open as you walk across the kitchen to grab the cake boxes and set them inside. you make sure to mind your feet, noticing figaro nosily has his furry face lifted to sniff into the side door.

she strings some sarcasm into her sentiment, "oh yum." she pauses, letting the sizzle of the egg and (now faint) music linger in the air before she speaks again, "how about you go take a shower or do something that'll make you feel a little better?"

"you know i would but being around my favorite roommate is already making me feel sooo much better!" you deliver the dry joke with a smile and pick up figaro when you shut the fridge door with an accidental slam.

she turns to look at you over her shoulder as she grabs two glass plates for the both of you, scolding you like a mother (as she tended to transform into at times like this due to her essentially parenting her younger siblings) "y/n, you're only fighting yourself, go ahead now."

౨ৎ

matt can hear chris' voice only grow louder and pound against the hallway walls but assumes he is heading anywhere but the space that matt's in, deciding to continue brushing his teeth instead.

he'd only be so lucky on his birthday.

"but yeah-" chris interrupts himself to knock and barely wait for an answer before he walks into matt's sleek bathroom. "matt's here!" his phone is carelessly thrown in front of matt's face (with a frothing mouth and irritated eyes) before he has truly registered anything that has happened.

he truly wants to roll his eyes infinitely but when he sees his mother is the one on the phone, his grumpy front is quickly wilted and a glimmer kisses his spirit in a way only she could produce.

it's clear she hadn't expected matt to be in the middle of something as personal as brushing his teeth when she first sees him, "oh, hi matt!" she understands him well enough to know he absolutely hates this (this being chris unnecessarily close to him as he hunches over to keep matt's face in the camera) so she attempts to amuse him, "wow, you're really showing your age now, aren't you? just looking so put together and nice." she laughs to herself as matt tries to not smile whilst brushing, holding his index finger up to indicate that he would address her with words in only a moment.

"chris, honey, why'd you bring me to your brother when he's busy, anyway?! now we're just watchin' him brush his teeth and the angles you're givin' me are so awkward," she emphasizes her sentence as it goes on.

chris turns the phone back to himself, "because you told me to show him?!"

"no, i said 'where's matt?'" she corrects him in jest.

"okay, so am i incorrect in saying that there was an implication-?"

matt dries his face with a towel and grabs the phone scolding chris, "hey we get it, smartass-" he turns to look at her again with a smile, "sorry mom."

"mhm," she dismisses, "when's this party of yours starting?"

"soon i think," matt moves around chris to exit the bathroom, leaving chris (literally) in the dark.

"okay and how's your birthday been so far?" he smiles knowing how excited she's always been about these things.

"good, i don't feel any different. just doin' the same stuff, except today there's way more people sending me texts and pretending the care about me." matt places the phone against a bowl full of chips in the kitchen, waving when he notices chris followed him.

"get down here nick, mom's on the phone!" chris yells, coming into frame and leaning on the counter. "jeez, matt's masochism can't give any of us a break even on days literally made for our happiness. you hearin' this kid ma?"

matt shakes his head, pointing to chris with his handful of chips, "spell masochism."

chris' eyes pinch and before their mother or chris himself reply, nick is running over to them with a smile and yell of "im heree!!"

she's has the much-expected motherly urge to cry seeing her three sons (whom she rarely sees anymore) all in the same frame, "aw, hi nicky! just look at you boys...so sweet."

it only takes another second before she's crumbling in tears. their smiles drop as chris grabs his phone. they all begin spilling out the most comforting phrases they know to cheer her up.

౨ৎ

"okay people! cake is coming through! everyone move. move, move...precious cargo right here and your ass is in the way!" asha yells and shines her phone's flashlight into the faces in the crowded living room as she ushers the girls to the kitchen.

she earns a few glares that she happily dishes back and a few mumbles of "bitch" once she's walked past that has remi "accidentally" stepping on a certain people's shoes while following asha's lead.

the modern open kitchen hosts plenty of drinks and snacks as well as a worried nathan, who's shirt is barely on his torso from the amount of buttons he's undone since stepping foot in the wild space. "oh thank god the cake's are here," he sighs with a throw of his head before frantically moving a platter of chips and guac (that someone was actively eating from) and a few six packs from the island to the opposite counter, encouraging the girls to place them down with an awkward nod of his head and harsh blink of his eyes.

asha holds back a laugh at nate's odd vibe as she moves next to him, nudging his shoulder, "what's wrong with you?"

"nothing," his head whips to look at her, "well, i mean, think 'm just nervous." he starts slow but it seems he needed someone to finally prompt him to share such a frustrated rant, "like- chris comes to me and asks me to throw him the best party. yet he doesn't give me shit to work with besides his home to host it in-" he breathes, "and 'm feelin' all the pressure of planning a party right now but, you know, i just need things to go smooth and then i'll be fine..." he runs a hand through his hair, "you ladies don't worry about me." he fakes a smile and gives a small wave of his wrist to show just how "fine" he is.

coinciding with nate's rant, you've began to pour a hefty amount of vodka and lemon juice (you absolutely scoured the fridge for) into a large glass. you hand it off to andrea with a pleading "mix" as you lick the remaining lemon juice from your thumb and open cabinets to search for shot glasses.

you line up a multitude of shot glasses with various cities labeled on them as andrea pours the mixture in carefully. you immediately bring one up to nathan, "lemon drop?"

"yes, please. no way your a fucking bartender and baker?" nate's eyes widen as he receives the small glass.

"no, definitely not. just live with a girl whois always making her own drinks at home," you smile and grab your own glass as the rest of the girls follow suit.

"i need this right now," remi starts, "let's cheers to drea's DIY shit and nathan making it through the rest of the night!" she woops and the group all let out various chuckles.

"a-fuckin'-men!" nate leans to clink the small glasses softly before taking the shot quickly. he barely recovers from the shot before he's pouring more vodka into his glass and taking a second.

you get the best view of chris turning the corner and seeing you all (his reaction is more specifically for andrea) have arrived. his jaw hangs dramatically as he walks over but quickly turns to a big smile when the group all start to sing happy birthday to him. "stop it! stop it!" he jokes and begins to give out hugs and thank each of you for coming. he stops and squeezes you extra tight, bringing up the cakes sat nearby, "i know that bakery anywhere. thank you for my cake."

"of course, i had to," you smile.

"no seriously, you're fuckin' awesome, girl." you can tell he's already a little buzzed from the look in his eyes but you also know he's almost more truthful than ever when drunk.

you notice that when he leaves you to finally greet your roommate, it's very clear he's purposely left andrea last to ensure there would be no rush on his interaction.

the rest of the group leave them to their own world for a moment; as the two hug chris gives her a soft kiss on her forehead, whispering "hi, mi cariña (my darling)" an inside joke between the two of them as chris' struggle with speaking spanish never fails to make andrea laugh.

౨ৎ

"okay, okay, i'll do it," matt finally gives in, lifting himself off of the black couch with people piled on top of it. he hands his drink over to elijah smoothly and begins to playfully rub his hands together.

"'hold my beer' headass," elijah jokes placing the cup off on a side table next to him. matt stops any movement, turning his torso to look back at the boy and start to laugh while holding both middle fingers up.

"matt," erin taps him with the side of her arm twice to get his attention again, handing him the second wii remote in her hands. the screen appears extra bright in contrast to the dimness of the room which causes matt to wonder how the fuck anyone has managed to play just dance in this space without getting a sudden head rush or worse.

"okay, let's do timber because it's classic," she suggests.

"let's not," matt opposes, his hand covering his mouth to hide a grin before running his cursor over the other choices.

erin looks over to him with a blank expression, "i mean i don't care that much you can-"

"'m joking, we'll do timber," matt looks from her to the colorful screen to find the song once more.

when he notices she's stiil looking over at him with an unreadable expression, matt smiles big attempting to not laugh, causing his already-slim eyes to pinch a little extra as he turns to her, "hey e, the screen's right up there, you won't be getting much direction from starin' at me-" he breaks into obnoxious laughter mid-way through his sentence which earns him a small smack on the arm.

erin laughs a little now, "would you stop it? just click 'a' on your fucking remote."

he does as she says and looks to her as the screen loads, "thereee we go, you can cool down now, sweetheart."

as the two dance both matt and his friends make one-off comments and jokes about the many times matt almost fell (and would make sure to blame it on the rug or his shoes). they seem to be having such a great time that you don't know if you only being there for the final few lines of the song, watching erin ride matt's back as they spin in circles laughing, is fortunate or unfortunate.

the claps and whistles are wild when the two finish with a bow, the crowd around them only getting louder when matt teases that he's so hot he might have to take off his shirt, lifting it slightly then putting it back down and calling them pervs. you only shake your head and bite back a smile, hating how fucking charming he is when he allows himself to be completely lost in a good time.

matt would say you snuck onto the sectional couch- because a minute ago you weren't there and now here you are talking elijah's ear off and taking repeated hits of his blunt.

but you wouldn't say you snuck into his area, rather walked in a manner in which you'd be out of his and erin's way- of course not taking away from the birthday boy and his...good friend. so you're a bit surprised he slumps on the couch next to you and not in his original spot on the opposite side of eli, "sunnnyy," he huffs and leans his head back against the couch, "when'd you get here, huh?"

you turn to look at him and he smiles at you then looks up to the ceiling, "think an hour ago? maybe?" you hand him the blunt.

"cool, cool, cool..." matt repeats cutting himself off by placing it in his mouth. he's dressed so stylish and attractive you can't help but scan over him with your eyes; his jersey-style shirt showing off his armfuls of tattoos, baggy jeans, car keys hanging on a cheetah print clip attached to his belt loop, shoes that look straight out of the box, a matching hat that you honestly wish he'd take off, and his signature silver jewelry brightening his attributes in the otherwise dark room.

he makes the slightest "tsss" sound when breathing in the drug before speaking with smoke plummeting from his mouth, "you should dance next," he brings it back to his mouth for a final hit.

"mmm maybe...if lucas is up for it," you play with the metal can of a wine cooler that you hold on your bare knee as matt leans over you to hand an occupied eli his blunt back, his laugh trails smoke out of his mouth and into your face as he slouches back next to you.

"forgot you're fuckin, hilarious! holy shit." his hand makes its way up his own shirt to rest on his stomach as he giggles.

a smile grows on your face, "no seriously is he here?" you lift yourself up a little and pretend to look for the familiar face.

"stop that." matt chuckles and tugs your wrist gently. you almost get nervous this time when you look him in the eyes. when he's drunk, matt is so carefree and giggly in a way you rarely get to see. and now you’re starting to notice how the poor lighting makes his features appear arched and his face look carved into, yet the jagged becomes soft and fuzzy whenever the gumdrop-colored lights of the wii game hit his face with the beat of the song. he notices your staring and lets go of your wrist, "what's up?"

"nothing."

"excuse me everyone! i would like to give a speech! hello, i am giving a speechhh! everyone shut up, please!" nick projects his voice into the microphone- he stole from the karaoke machine -while standing on a dining room chair.

as people start to calm down nick speaks, "right, so, it's my fuckin' birthday!” he raises his arms and dances his fingers before pointing out matt, “and it's matt's fuckin' birthday, right over there! let's get some flashlights pointing over to my brother please!" matt’s face flushes as he covers his eyes from the sudden bright lights. you squint your own eyes from next to him and move closer to eli to avoid the flashes.

"and it's chris' fuckin' birthday..." nick looks around, "i couldn't tell you where exactly he is, just know that he is also here tonight!” the crowd roars, “anyway... i'm so- so happy to have you all with us tonight to celebrate. we turn twenty fucking three and... that feels so old saying it out loud. holy shit." nick cringes obnoxiously, slurring his next few words, "but i love my two best friends in the whole world: chris and matt, i wouldn’t wish to share a birthday with anyone else… and i love all of you thank you again. oh! and shout out nathan for holding this shit down! if you see nathan give him something... i don't know- money? a kiss? a drink? fuck if i know." as nick speaks cameron nudges him with a shot glass which he finally acknowledges, "and apparently this is a toast now so, you know, here's to getting older and having the most fun forever!" he raises the glass in the air and drinks it without further thought, inviting everyone to do the same while cheering and applauding him in excitement.

you raise your wine cooler and let out many cheers along with the rest, but of course matt ridicules you a little in jest, "really? you sit here and 'woo' while i'm going blind?!" he’s still wiping at his eyes, dealing with the aftermath of bright lights shining in his eyes; his vision tainted with faint blue and red splotches only for a second. you lean closer to him, attempting to see his eyes better while uncontrollably laughing.

"are you crying?!"

matt thinks you look really pretty even when you're quite literally pointing and laughing in his face. you move his hands away from his face and he widens his eyes dramatically, "look, no 'm not!” you shake your head in response, “does really it look like it?"

you notice his bottom eyelashes are slightly clumped and you move your hand closer, placing your thumb under his eye, "baby, that's damp!" you giggle and pull his hand close, using your thumb to draw a wet line across his tattooed wrist to prove your point.

he drags out his first word, "alrighttt. whatever! you got me, sweet girl. ‘cause god forbid i have the ability to cry?!” pulling away from you with a smile as he dries his eyes by rubbing them gently.

matt excuses himself with a quick "gonna go grab another drink or somethin'" before he does something irrational like kiss you in front of all these fucking people.

౨ৎ

you carefully open each of the packaged cakes, each revealing the boys' full names written in cursive with the uniquely styled and colored buttercream frosting you made that very morning. you used the same shades to make the puffed frosting border of the cakes, for an easy, soft garnish. remi follows behind you, lighting candles on the cakes as you go.

there's a chaos that comes with trying to gather this many (drunk) people in one area and capture their attention long enough to sing then cut cakes. it doesn’t help that the hosts are at their most unserious themselves; matt and nick both snickering and making jokes while holding onto each other while chris talks to one of his friends off to the side with his obnoxiously loud voice without regard for anyone around him.

“okay, people we’re singing!” nathan attempts to yell over the loudness of the crowded room. you and remi are then in the position of getting the attention of the birthday boys who can’t focus on the task at hand, leaving you both to snap your fingers and call them as if you were attempting to take photos of a stubborn baby.

you truly wish it didn’t irk you so terribly but you can’t help your annoyance when matt looks over to erin after she shouts from next to you, “matt, can you pay attention? your cake’s ready,” and he listens, moving nick off of him with a shoulder nudge and laugh as he approaches the row of cakes.

you recover quickly with a smile once both matt and nick’s eyes widen and mouths hang open in awe of your hard work, “s’perfect,” matt whispers to himself, now adjusting his hat to fit backwards.

“oh my god, the wax got in my cake! what the fuck,” nick whines and that cues drea to tug chris’ arm softly and urge him with a hushed, “chris ven aquí (come here)!”

and he's is down so terribly that he moves to where she wants him immediately.

chris is a known sap, especially when wasted, so he’s stood fighting the urge to cry when taking in the scene in front of him: his brothers and friends gathered together to celebrate their twenty three years of life together.

he tucks his lip into his mouth and looks down at the burning flame, slowly smiling when everyone around them begin to sing a rendition of happy birthday with all the charmingly bad high notes and run on “you”s but not forgetting to crunch all three names into a single line.

midway through the song, chris leans to hug matt in comfort while sneaking a reach into matt’s back pocket to grab the slim joint he just knew would be there. he grins to himself, “sweet! free j and free light,” placing it into his mouth as he leans over his cake to spark the joint hanging in his mouth with as much precision as possible. andrea shakes her head in confusion while filming on her phone beside to you.

“dude,” matt lets out a breathy laugh while waving his hand to clear the atmosphere of the potent smoke. sudden applause recognizing the end of the song and leading the three to blow out their candles.

matt gave up on birthday wishes a while into his teen years and nothing changes this year; he blows his candles out and claps along with the crowd before accepting his joint from chris for a few puffs of celebration.

you watch in amusement as nathan distracts the boys with shots to get them away from the cakes as andrea begins to cut. except no shot could beat the view of andrea bent over the counter like she is now, so chris is practically on top of drea with annoying whines of “i wanna see,” when she asks him to be careful and wait a second.

you, however, are actively searching for the spiked punch that elijah recommended when you run into erin and matt talking. they both look to you with different expressions as you squeeze yourself by them to get to the punch bowl.

you remind yourself that erin is your friend, not your enemy. nor your competition. meaning you also have to remind yourself that matt is some guy you fuck around with, not your boyfriend.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in while grabbing a plastic cup and using a small ladle to pour the peach colored liquid for yourself. instead of flat-out staring at the two, you take turns looking from them to your cup. you watch as they pose for a picture; erin taking his hat to place on her own head and matt smiling next to her. and another with her kissing his cheek as he laughs.

it’s upsetting- no, humiliating to you. and how especially humiliating that your first thought is whether he’ll dismiss you for erin when you ask him to fuck you later tonight? you blame the weed for getting you so worked up over minutiae interactions.

you’re brought out of your daze in the most humbling of ways: a sudden splash hits your bare foot and covers your black kitten heels in the sticky juice. “fuck,” you groan and place the ladle back into the punch bowl, taking a large sip of your overflowing drink as you look down at the puddle of pink you’re standing in.

you find a towel laying nearby and lower yourself to fumble and wipe your shoe.

“damn y/n, you like my punch that much?” a voice asks from next to you.

you look up and see lucas smiling down at you, “you made it?” you ask genuinely as he helps you rise to standing again.

“no,” he smiles and you roll your eyes, “but im wondering how you managed to spill any with this itty bitty fucking ladle?” he jokes, lifting the ladle and watching it pour the small bit of juice it managed to gather back into the bowl.

“i just wasn’t paying attention,” you laugh and sip your drink again.

“mhm…why’s that?” he squints his eyes down at you.

you tap two of your french tip fingernails against your skull, “so much is happening up here.”

“like what?”

“i don’t knowww,” you smirk and look away to take another sip of your drink.

“well, i know you look sexy as fuck in this dress right now. look at you,” he wets his lips and offers his hand to you with a grin, showing off a few of his shining tooth gems.

you try to maintain your composure and not smile too big but it’s a challenge when he playfully gets you to spin slowly for him and show off the tiny strapless dress you have on as he “oouu”s and whistles to hype you up.

“mm, you like that?” you look up at him, blinking slowly.

he nods and chuckles, “you know damn well-” looking off to the side then gaining your eye contact once more as he wipes over his mouth with his hand, glancing over your body, “‘course i do.”

"good. we should dance then," you guide him to the living room with his hand still in yours.

౨ৎ

you hate to be the bitch on her phone at a party but you can’t stop staring at it. you tap past the story then go back to look again. you even rewatch it in the perspective of someone who hadn’t been there to see the photo taken to see how it would be perceived. hurting your own feelings knowing they could very well assume matt to be erin’s boyfriend with how close they’re standing and her lips against his face.

it’s very dizzying and ruining your high quite a bit, especially paired with andrea who continues to look to you to celebrate after every ping pong ball she throws whether she makes it or not.

you go to rewatch the story once more, only this time a text from matt slides down on your screen to interrupt your sulking:

MATT

Hey come here

Y/N

where???

MATT

Outside youll see me

you let andrea know you’re going outside for air before walking over to a glass sliding door to let yourself out.

you see matt holding a stick while looking down at his phone, fire pit radiating next to him, a mass of people surrounding it.

your arms wrap and hold onto your shoulders as you walk closer, feeling the breeze rack through your body despite the internal heat from the many drinks you've had over the course of the night.

as you approach, asha gets up from her spot on nick's lap to give you a hug, "y/n! hiii." she pulls away and her hands remain on your shoulders, "your cake was so delicious, i tried a bite of each."

"oh good, 'm glad." you smile.

she feels your hands, "are you cold, babe? come sit." she guides you over to the group of people sat around the fire. "you can take my spot, i'll stand," she insists and nick agrees smiling kindly.

you interrupt matt's texting to figure out why he wanted you here, cupping your hands to shout, "matt!" across the lawn from your spot atop nick.

he looks over and quips his head while moving closer, "hey, was just wonderin' if you'd try my s'more? nick thinks he makes them best." he smiles but you can't help but feel that there's a catch to this.

"always gotta prove someone wrong. yeah, i'll do it." you agree as he moves to grab the snack he'd apparently already prepared.

nick mutters, "don't let him bully you into liking his, and don't forget who's acting as your chair currently!" from behind you as you giggle into the bite that matt gives you, holding the smore in his hand up to your mouth.

you chew slowly and matt watches, chatter and crinkles of the fire filling the heated space. you finally nod your head and matt smirks, "so good, right?" matt asks and brings his hand to hold your face and wipe around the corner of your mouth, looking to his right with a smile then back to you.

you feel awkwardly and unnaturally sensual, moving his hand away from your face and searching for what he's looked over to, catching the eye of lucas, standing with a group of guys lighting up near a fence. so that is the fucking catch.

you lick your lips of any remaining marshmallow and shake your head, annoyed, "i don't know, it tastes normal and graham cracker is fucking stale." you look up at him and his face is adorned with confusion on your change of heart.

you feel too fucking weird about this. you wish you couldn't believe that he'd use your feelings towards him for some weird shit like claiming you from lucas, but it's not surprising in the slightest; matt wants his cake yet he'll always want to eat it too.

"yeah, nick wins." you pat the side of nick's thigh to grab his attention and tell him the news, making him cheer and bring you into his chest for a small hug.

matt's lips form the smallest pucker as he watches you get up and walk towards the house without further conversation.

"bye, y/n!" asha yells.

౨ৎ

matt lays flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling to try and organize his many thoughts when his door creaks slightly, allowing a roar of party chatter into his space before it shuts again.

he lifts only his head up to see erin stood with a small smile before letting himself fall back into his plush comforter, "hey, i got your shit in the first drawer over there." he points to a tall dresser across the room.

he listens to her shuffle around before finding a large bag of weed, coming close to him and placing a few folded bills in his front pocket slowly. she then moves so that she hovers over his dazed face, "thank you, are you sure you don't need anything else from me? it is your birthday..." she grins and runs a hand over his chest. he mimics her smile (intended in more of a mocking way than she takes it) and laughs softly.

"no, i'm good on that, e. you enjoy your doobies and shit," he continues to softly laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides before she thanks him again and gives him a small peck.

"happy birthday, matty!" she sings before closing the door to his room and heading straight to his bathroom next door to pee.

matt would say it hasn't even been four minutes since erin left him when you're stumbling into his room. he repeats his look up, only to soften a bit when he sees you make effort to move some of his shoes out of the walkway so that you don't trip, "hi, baby" he waves you over with his fingers and welcomes you as if you'll be staying for long, "lock that door for me." he figures if you came to see him after storming away like that at the fire pit you're either gonna spit your thoughts in his face or sit on his face, there's no in between.

"i found you," you smile and twist the smaller knob to lock the door from the rowdiness. you then make your way over to sit at the end of his bed and begin to fiddle with the straps on your tiny heels, "my feet have been achin' so bad," you look at him as you complain.

"mm, i'm sure."

when your feet are finally free from your shoes you place them on the ground and adjust yourself on the bed. you silently grimace seeing matt with his shoes remaining on his feet despite being on his bed.

he giggles when you begin to unlace them, "feel like a fuckin' princess."

you roll your eyes and begin to pull them off, "with the way you act you might as well be one."

"ouch? it's my birthday," he holds his heart while looking to you playfully.

you tilt your head and drop his second shoe right on the floor as you stare back at him, "oh, i know."

"right. what's wrong now?"

you run your hands along his legs as you inch up his body and hover yourself over his crotch, "nothing. everything's fine, right?" you adjust your hair away from your face.

"sure, uh huh," matt looks up at you and bites his lower lip while moving his hands to hold and squeeze your full thighs. he silently admires the way you fill that tiny dress and look down at him from this angle.

you look away for a moment then decide to put your full weight onto matt, muffled groan leaving his mouth. your lips curve up as you pull his bottom lip from his mouth with your thumb to replace it with your mouth, sucking and kissing it. your tongue runs over his lips a few times before matt takes hold of your head and pulls you impossibly closer to capture your mouth messily with his own.

the kiss is a filthy, drunken sight: noses meshing and colliding, tongues playing and licking, and moans escaping and ringing into the air desperately.

you pull away with a wet smack and whisper into his lips, "i've got another present for you..."

"mmm?" his eyes widen and he squeezes your neck gently, kissing you once more, "for real? like, more than this?!" his hand feathers over your ass, insinuating the way you're sat on top of him right now could easily be his best gift tonight.

"yes," you breathe then begin to giggle, "you're gonna lose your shit, i think."

his mind can think of a lot of things you could do to make him lose his shit, "damn, okay. well, show me. you got my stomach dancin' and shit." he holds you so that you stay put as he lifts himself to rest on his elbows.

your smile bites over your bottom lip now as you raise yourself from his lap once more. your nail taps against your upper thigh as you look down at him, "kiss, please?"

he doesn't have to move much, as your leg is already so close to his face. he keeps heated eye contact with you when he kisses and marks the skin you'd point to, causing small mindless noises to fall from your mouth as you play with his soft hair (that you unfortunately hadn't seen much of tonight).

when he's finished he looks up to you with his red, puffy eyes and wet lips as you thank him, "now...pay attention." you gently demand as you slowly move your dress up your body.

matt studies your movement in awe, eventually catching your gift in his line of sight. he knows you must think you're so sneaky when you only show a glimmer of your lacy white panties, with a cursive red "M" embroidered near the waistband, before quickly pushing your dress back down with an uncontrollable laugh.

matt's face morphs to express a million different emotions and he doesn't realize how loud his voice is when he speaks, "what the fuck?!" he looks up at you- with your head thrown back laughing -then back to your covered lower half. "what was that? hold the fuck on," you body is so loose with laughter that he easily grabs you and flips you onto the bed so that you lay underneath him, still squirming in your own giggles (yelling a few "matt!"s or "matt wait i can't breathe!"s).

his face is full of amusement when he firmly lifts your dress to get a better look at what you've done for him. "oh my god, 'm gonna pass the fuck out. look at you, sunny!" he rubs his eyes dramatically and shakes his head. "no, you're so bad."

"you like it?" you ask, licking over your lips and reaching your hands up to trace the small hairs prickling on matt's jawline.

"course i do, the fuck type of question is that?!" he turns his face to kiss your inner palm before bending closer to kiss your lips once more.

"happy birthday, matt." you say in between kisses, "there's somethin' else if you look a little more."

"really?" he immediately splits from you and looks to your panties once more, running his hands over your lower stomach. the cherry red joint laying against your hip and tucked into your underwear catches him by surprise but the stoner in him nearly cums on the spot.

he removes it from it's place and kisses you mumbling a reminder that "you're so hot" and "the marijuana bug must've bit you real bad" before he gets up to store it in his bedside table, patting the closed drawer and joking, "for when i miss you."

he stands above you for an extra second to shake his head slowly with a tut, but when you whine "c'mereee," he's hushing you and removing his shirt before crawling back on top of you.

your hands run across every inch of his warm torso as you both sloppily kiss, and matt's own hands curiously make their way into your underwear for a proper feel of your wet core.

he allows you to desperately grind your hips against his hand until he eventually decides he needs to taste you. he lowers himself to face your clothed pussy, tracing the "M" with a finger as he places his tongue flat against you and places pressure on your most sensitive area.

his finger once tracing, now moves to pull the tiny piece of fabric off of you. he looks into your eyes as he easily stuffs the cloth in his back pocket, mumbling "mine now" while moving his fingers through your sticky folds.

you cry out when he dips two fingers into you teasingly, over and over again, and another series of moans leaves your mouth when he begins to lick over your clit eagerly.

matt continues his efforts, spitting on your clit a few times to watch it drip down to where his fingers harshly move inside of you; his movements quickening while he watches.

and just before you cum you dumbly warn him, which makes him stop entirely. "no, matt. stop, please come back. please."

"shhh. don't start that shit, you'll cum twice on your day..." he unbuttons his pants, "plus, you know it feels so much better when you wait and have to chase it a few times." he smirks and nudges your clit with his finger once more making you breathe out a moan and close your legs around his hand.

he pulls away from you to finish undressing before laying back dowm in his tight boxers, "come take care of me, sunny. i need you."

"hm...and i needed you too..." you lift yourself up and pout as you climb off the bed and get closer to where he lies, turning and moving your hair away for your back, "unzip me, please?"

he does just as you say and watches you finish removing your dress in only one movement. when you climb on top of him he now gets a view of your tits directly in his face that has him humming and immediately feeling you up.

he kisses and licks the skin while you scratch at his scalp in the most sensual way. you reach behind you to dip your hand into his boxers, immediately coming in contact with his sensitive and slightly sticky tip. he tilts his head back with a groan as soon as you begin to stroke him beneath the fabric making a sinical smile form on your face.

you push the boxers further down his thighs to fully expose him as you bring your lips down to him again. his moans flow into your mouth when you repeatedly rush your movements then slowly circle his head.

eventually matt's eyebrows pinch in terribly tight and he grabs your hand, sighing, "god damn, baby. chill or i'll be cummin' before i'm inside you."

you roll your eyes playfully, "okay?" as you adjust yourself to align over his length, before sinking down on top of him.

"mmm, fuck." he encourages when you lift yourself and slam back down on top of him. you move his hands to hold your hips then spread your hands over his chest as you continue.

matt can't help but slap your ass a few times after discovering the way your muscles flutter around him so perfectly each time. but one smack in particular aids you to practically fall onto his chest whining, "matt i can't, please just-."

he immediately lifts your face to give him a much needed kiss before reaching to realign himself and hold onto you as he thrusts rhythmically into you.

moans sneak from your mouth and interrupt you from kissing and holding onto matt's neck, which only encourage matt until he's completely flustered and drilling into you sloppily.

matt can tell you're cumming by your all too and familiar broken moans. and once you harshly kiss him and ask him to let go in return he finally stills inside of you and groans into your soft shoulder.

a silence coats the room, leaving the overpowering music and talking of the party to linger through the air in a cloudy murmur.

matt keeps his arms around you while you recover from your high, staring at the ceiling of his faintly lit room in questionable thought.

and he assumes you must be doing the same; only he mistakes the wetness of your tears for his own sweat as you turn your head away from him to dissolve your embarrassingly shaky breaths.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list is in the replies ily!!!!

[rae-pss]

what if.. self aware whb seraphim🤸🏻‍♂️🕳

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . sorry for the delay with the request (😭), i couldn't find myself liking what i wrote multiple times. i hope you like it, dear anon (<3). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 502 words.

the atmosphere had become different so abruptly. 

the old, almost millenary, tradition of killing every one of the descendants of that damned sorcerer had given food for thought to all the inhabitants of heaven.

from one day to the next, the usual task of eradicating the lineage that shared genetics with solomon didn’t go as they all wished it did. not when the screen-emerging seraph's gaze met that human’s own eyes, in that instant something changed.

despite the growing feeling in his chest, one that screamed at him not to hurt them, gabriel knew what his job was and, without hesitating for another second, he took out his scythe and with a single swing cut down his target. later finding that another human protected them with his own body, and that one of the seven kings of hell, satan nevertheless, appeared to help them too. 

“bothersome…”

eventually, he had to return to heaven, but not before branding their body as future food for the angels.

once up there, away from all the lower impurities, there was nothing and no one to help him avoid the growing pressure in his chest, which he had no choice but to credit to the non-death of that damn descendant whom he didn’t manage to devoid of life as he should have. without further ado, the seraph headed to where his other two companions, so to speak, were waiting for him to hear how his mission went.

his surprise was, nothing more and nothing less, that both michael and raphael had also started to feel that "something" like him around the same time frame he had. 

nonetheless, despite all the coincidences that one could discern, no one wanted to give it importance; not when their minds were more focused on how they were still standing in nowhere else than hell.

thus, the passage of time made itself go by. 

few days in which that feeling only knew how to expand and become noticeable when one of their holy gazes met theirs, when they were close to their figure when their voice was directed at them... on those occasions, and after their rare repetitions, something in the seraphim genuinely awakened.

how many decades have passed since something like that arose inside them? how was it that that feeling that only he gave them had returned? was it, if anything, that human who gave them such a feeling? impossible, simply unthinkable. a mere human being, even if they were the offspring of a sorcerer as powerful as solomon was, couldn’t do that... right?

that's when one by one, gabriel, then raphael, and lastly michael, began to realize small details around the descendant, details that revealed what all the angels, especially the three seraphim, began to suspect.

they were a vessel, a puppet that someone superior to them used to communicate with them all. 

it was then and there when the real war began between heaven and hell. a war that would end once their holy hands were on that human, the beloved vessel of the higher being, of the new god.

[noirsnonsense]

Marauders as things my friends have said pt 2

had a deep dive in our discord dms for this shit. @al1xre as promised. love you tater tot 😽🩷 which friend should I target next.. nani or cece.... I got A LOT on both them mfs

other parts

Sirius: BRO. YOU CAN FIGURE THIS OUT URSELF

James: BUT PADS??? YOURE MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT PERSON?? YOURE SUPPOSED TO HELP??

Dorcas: DUDE. IM NOT GOING TO REPEAT MYSELF.

Barty: YOURE NOT MY MOTHER. but fine.

James: STOP BEING GOOFY AND CONFESS

James: THIS IS STRESSING ME OUT

Sirius: YOU??? MF IM THE ONE IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS?

James: DAWG IM SHITTING BRICKS. WE'RE BASICALLY THE SAME PERSON SO

Peter: BRO JUST LEAVE ME ALONE IF YOU WONT LISTEN

Marlene: NO BUT THAT IS SCARY HUH

Lily: I DONT GIVE A FUCK. SAY IT.

Marlene: I'm telling Pandora you're being mean

Lily: I DONT GIVE FLYING FUCKS IM TRYING TO HELP YOU

Barty: shape one into a dick

Evan: bro there's children around

Dorcas: well she told me her name and I told her mine??

Barty: ... Congratulations?

Evan: hit the jackpot fr

Dorcas: I'm gonna stop talking to you both

Regulus: I love being the unproblematic bystander

Lily: ew I feel like a mother

Marlene: mommy lily

Lily: no pls I hate that

Mary: what about mother Lily?

Peter: I need help with the personality

James: uhmm.. harsh at first? Smoker definitely

Sirius: has a penis

Remus: HAS A PENIS? 😭

James: everythings possible

Dorcas: lesbians liking men

James: oh yeah. That's not possible.

Sirius: why don't you just fall for a friend?

James: eh idk.. most of em are taken

Sirius: wow ok I'm offended

James: don't you like Remus?

Sirius: still.. thought that counts..

Barty: potter doesn't think I'm scary, right?

Regulus: of course not! He thinks you're terrifying!

Remus: my coffee tastes like sad bean water :((

Sirius: put creamer in it

Remus: oh right I forgot

James: I appreciate you sm I love you

Sirius: I love you more??

James: impossible. I love you more.

Sirius: possible. I love you most.

James: I love you mostest.

Sirius: I love you more than mostest.

James: I love you more than more than mostest.

Sirius: that makes no sense what and you're wrong like its not possible

(Remus and Regulus side eyeing the fuck out of them both)

Evan: oh my gosh we both have siblings.. soulmates fr.

Regulus: i wanna be on your level of delusion

Sirius: how bout Remus turns around and looks at ME like that

James: id look at you like that

Sirius: THAT CAUGHT ME OFF GAURD.

Sirius: my life is so boring I need real drama

Peter: id create drama but being involved takes a lot of effort

[lazybutsmexy]

NOOO NO NO NO TAKE IT BACK APOLOGY W TEARS RN IM SOBBING CRYING DON'T DO THIS TO ME THIS IS A PERSONAL ATTACK(it was delicious, scrumptious wow i love seeing sadness) MAKE IT BETTER OW OW BRING THEM BACK(it was so good i love your writing eating it up yumyumyum) I crave more of them all being platonic (HURT/COMFORT?!??!) plsplspls begging for crumbs in tears ill do anything

Hmmm... I am a slut for hurt/comfort myself...

Task Force + affectionate reader Pt. 3

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

Warnings: HURT/COMFORT, bit of cursing.

The people who smile the most are often the saddest. The people who share the most love often don't feel any towards themselves.

Or: it's your team's turn to show affection

It was one of those days.

One of those days where you didn't have the energy to care about yourself. You were able to keep up with your little routines around base, somehow. But it was dimmed, a matte finish to what was once all shiny and sparkly.

Because it was one of those days.

You always became like this after taking leave for longer than two days. You'd visit your family during that time - or rather, they would come to you as soon as they realized you were at your place downtown and not the barracks - and bombard you with anything they set their minds to.

No matter how grueling your missions were, your family always managed to make you feel even more drained during leave. Their constant demands and mental games, the guilt-tripping and manipulation, always made you feel as if you were walking on eggshells around them.

Tracking down and dismantling human trafficking rings seemed like a walk in the park compared to dealing with them.

You personally tried your best to keep your personal problems away from your work, greeting everyone around you with the same cheery tone, and going about your little routine with the others as usual.

But they had started to notice how your smile didn't reach your eyes, and how you seemed unable to shake off the frown in your brows.

And to avoid unwanted questions that you were too ashamed to answer, you simply chose to distance yourself.

Price shared a look with Ghost, who stood across the room from him, and he shared the same concern in his eyes as they watched you walk into the debrief room

you sat yourself at the back, whereas you'd usually choose to sit in the middle of your team

they immediately knew what was going to happen, you were about to start isolating yourself.

they were having none of that.

Price had always kept a close eye on the family relations of his team members.

it was a security measure, after all, to make sure that not only they weren't targeted by dangerous people, but also to make sure they were no connected in any way to their missions.

but in your case it was different, he monitored your family to make sure they never stayed close to you for too long.

it seemed it hadn't been enough this time, and he saw your haggard state as the consequence of that failure.

he would definitely fix that

he began talking to both Laswell and his superiors to get you one of the smaller houses within base

even though you were unmarried and didn't have any children, he knew it would be impossible for those pesky family members to get close to your home without permission

your parents had managed to talk your landlord into giving them access to your apartment - that would not happen under Price's watch

he would actually blacklist them if he had the chance to do so

he wouldn't let you know he was trying to get you a house, at first - he didn't want you to feel like a burden

but he was not exactly subtle when he began asking what colors you preferred on your walls, if you minded only having a shower head or if you preferred a bathtub, etc

Soap wasn't subtle at all, oh no

boy got you hooked in a one-arm hug for as long as you'd let him

that could be a few minutes or all day long, he didn't mind one bit

endlessly squeezed and smooched on your hairline whenever he caught you lost in thought

definitely the one to (lovingly) manhandle you into a blanket burrito and snuggle you into his lap to watch movies

surprisingly a great cook, he would go all out and cook you whatever your comfort food was

it didn't matter if it was 3 AM

you would be fed, and you could almost taste the love he poured in it

definitely wore a 'kiss the cook' apron to make you giggle and try to get a smooch from you

Gaz is the king of self care

you would not let your skincare/hair routine go under his watch

he would do it for you if you didn't have the energy to do so

he would just sit you on the toilet and he'd take care of all the steps of your skincare routine

if he didn't have all the steps memorized, he definitely had a bulletpoint list of specific instructions to guide himself

same with your hair - trust this man with your hair, you won't regret it, ever

this man had magic hands for scalp massages fight me if you disagree

if you aren't comfortable being nude in front of him, he would simply put a chair in front of the sink like a makeshift hair wash basin and work like that

if you were comfortable being nude in front of him, he would make it into a full-body wash

after working with your hair, he would scrub your body down

every now and then he would massage your tired muscles while telling you how much he appreciated you as both his teammate and his friend

after shower cuddles were a must

you would very likely doze off in his arms while he held you impossibly close to him

Ghost didn't see himself as a person capable of comforting others

but all doubts flew through the window the moment he saw your downcast gaze and a tired hunch of your shoulders

at this point in time, you had become about 80% of the team's moral incentive

of course he knew it was quite unfair to dump all of that on you, he supposed you would have your down days too

but you were part of a team, and no one fought alone - be it terrorist organizations or their own inner demons

he would work alongside Price to get you a new living place

any person trying to ask you stupid and/or unwanted questions would find themselves at the other end of one of his famous death glares

or at the aim of his fist

when you approached him to pat him on the shoulder like always, pretending that everything was all right, he placed his own hand on your shoulder

he looked into your eyes and spoke to you with such sincerity that you were shaken to the core

"...You know that you are just as deserving of love as everyone else, right?"

moments later, you were clutching his middle, with your face buried in his chest while he hugged you tightly

he didn't mind that his shirt felt a little wetter with your tears

he focused on stroking your hair and rubbing your back, while glaring at anyone who dared to look at you questioningly

he would let you hug him until your arms fell off if that's what you needed

more cuddles!!

...he wouldn't mind it too much either if Soap and Gaz joined in a cuddle pile - he pretended to be annoyed, but he thought it felt nice

imagine how much nicer it would feel for you :)