#because you deserve it and it can be yours

[villifx]

how the task force 141 men react to you complaining about your job (f!reader) ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

simon doesn't even blink as you throw your head into his lap, eyes still focused on the television while his hand subconsciously moves to smooth your hair.

"jus' quit."

you pause in the midst of your whining, staring up at him like he'd just grown a second head. "what?"

simon shrugs. "makin' enough."

"i... i can't quit my job, simon."

his eyebrows twitch up a bit, indifferent. "up to you, love."

you pause, considering. "well..."

johnny doubles down. not only does he tell you to quit immediately, he also throws in that the marine corps will pay him extra if you two get married.

mind you, johnny already rates BAH and has been making it since before you two got together. there won't really be any change to his pay besides separation pay when he's gone for more than a month. however, this is his opportunity to gauge your reaction to the idea of marriage, and he's taking it.

kyle. sweet, sweet kyle. he doesn't tell you to quit. not because he wouldn't support you financially - he absolutely would - but because he knows how important it can be for a woman to have a sense of independence. he also worries about how you'll handle the potential isolation if he's away for an extended period of time and you don't have a job to occupy your time. also, he's happy to pay the bills, but if you're working then you can afford all of the pretty things you want and deserve!

john? john price? ... funny of you to think that you're working while you're with that man, lol.

note: was bored and wrote this in like 10 mins. just had to be done lol

[totalapathy]

141 x reader Fic REC | Follow the Authors!

I did not write any of these. This is a list of fanfics I really liked that include all members of the 141 x reader or poly!141 x reader. If you have a 141 fanfic you like msg me and ill add it to the list! If you are an author and do not want your fic listed msg me and ill take it down.

- Series -

Off to See the Wizard | @nerdygirlramblings

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 9/? | 15.2k | Stuck on Reader being someone like Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds, stationed in the US under Laswell

Forever winter (If you go) | @loveindefinitely

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 14/? | 50.1k | When your commander -- Phillip Graves -- turns against the Los Vaqueros and Task Force 141, you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Between your own morals, and your duty to serve the man you can no longer idolise, a choice must be made.Do you help the two operatives you know deserve to live? Or do you fight with your unit -- the men you swore to stand beside?The decision is made when you find yourself stumbling, quite literally, into one Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish; and, effectively, the 141's entire lives.

This is Going To Hurt | @moody-alcoholic

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 5/10 | 14.8k | During a botched military convoy you're kidnapped by Al-Qatala. While the rest of 141 are on their way to find you, you're forced to endure torture and help the enemy to survive.

On a Wing and a Prayer | @moody-alcoholic

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 11/11 | 19.2k | 141 mistaken you for the traitor. The person who leaked intel to Makarov and got Johnny shot. Now you're forced to move on without the people you love the most.

Rec Room | @void-my-warranty

Poly!141 x Reader | Series | 2/? | 3.6k | NSFW The 141 swear the clit is in the wrong spot and you show them proof. After you sneak off to the rec room to jerk off at night, but Ghost seems to have a similar idea.

Fire Watch | @auspicioustidings

Firefighter!141 x Reader | Series | 14/14 | 30k | NSFW You really should have been less stubborn and just called an electrician to do the wiring, because after your cottage had went up in a blaze the 141 had made the decision to spirit you away to their fire tower deep in the woods to take care of you.

Deity!AU | @meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender

Deity!141 x Reader | Series | 3/4 | 10k | NSFW Once upon a time, there were four gods. Together, they took turns helping the mortals. But what spirit connects them all, centering their efforts? Of what clear mission banner do they unite under? To whom is the focal point of life’s great mysteries? In other words, smut about diety! 141

Mafia AU | @peachil

Mafia!141 x Show girl/Law Student!Reader | Series | 9/? | 17.5k | You’re a law student who performs shows at night, and you catch the eyes of a group of dangerous man.

Dukedom AU | @beloveds-embrace

141 x Duchess!Reader | Series + Extras + Drabbles | Arranged marriage to duke john price except it means you married four instead of one 👁️👁️

Omegaverse Works | @beloveds-embrace

| Poly!141 x Designationless!Reader | Poly!141 x ES Omega!Reader Beloved's embrace's omegaverse works

Hoarfrost | @prettypinkguns

Wolf Shifter!141 x Human!Reader | Series | 1/? | 5.5k | You soon realize something wasn’t quite right about those men or the pack of wolves, with their strangely intelligent eyes, that frequented the woods surrounding your property. Curious, you're determined to get to the bottom of it. But as the saying famously went… curiosity kills the cat.

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood | @soaps-mohawk

Poly!141 x Omega!reader | Series | 46/? | 377.5k | NSFW Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it. It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks.  As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all. 

Call of Duty Omegaverse AU | sprout-fics

Poly!141 x Omega!Reader | Series | 14/? | 20.9k | NSFW You've concealed your presence as an omega for your entire military career, careening up the ranks, collecting accolades, and having the privilege to assist the notorious 141 Taskforce. Yet on a mission gone wrong, you find yourself in circumstances entirely out of your control, and the events that follow hurtle you into the path of a pack that finds out they will do anything to make you theirs.

Only Human | @diejager

Monster!141 + König & Horangi x Human!reader | Series + Extras + Drabbles | God - Laswell - blessed you with a team of strong, capable monsters.

- Shots -

Home is where you are | @1-ker0sene-1

Poly!141 x Wife!Reader | One Shot | 1.3k | It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are.

Something Bad | @loves-alibi

Dark!141 x Reader | One Shot | 1.6k | There’s something wrong with the 141…

Digital Mischief , 02 | @goatgoesmbe

Poly!141 x Reader | Double Shot | 3.8k | "In which you joined a discord server to find people to play an FPS game with, only to be welcomed by four military men."

Body Electric | @yeyinde

141 + Los Vaqueros x reader | One Shot | 8.9k | NSFW Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever... had a gangbang before, and things quickly devolved from there. (Well. You can scratch that off your bucket list.)

Afterburn | sprout-fics

141 & Los Vaqueros x reader | One Shot | 8k | NSFW Sprout-fic's take on the aftermath of Body Electric by @yeyinde

Call in Sick | @yufloria

Soft!141 x Reader | One Shot | 3.2k | After a mission gone wrong in an undisclosed location Task Force 141 is forced to stay in a safe house, a cabin, in the middle of a dense forest and high between the mountains. It is no task for the team but unfortunately for you. You were injured.  

Gangbang | @konigsblog

141 x Reader | One Shot | 6.5k | NSFW the 141 finally have their way with their teasing, disobedient recruit.

Crappy Alpha Male Bf Gets Dunked On | @charliemwrites

Poly!141 X Teammate's Gf!Reader | One Shot | 2.7k | Mr. steal your girl 141 & crappy alpha male bf

Free use Medic | @all-purpose-dish-soap

Poly!141 X Medic!Reader | One Shot | 1.1k | NSFW "You can share,” Price tells them. Then he gives you a pointed look. “Saves time. You can rest on the bird, sweetheart."

Ravenous , 02 | @tojisun

| One Shot | 7k | NSFW cant come <fuck me please <> quite forward of you. well, since you asked so nicely, we’re on our way.You had sent the message to- you had sent it to the damn group chat

Need to Listen to Me | @loveindefinitely

Poly!141 X Teammate!Reader | One Shot | 4.4k | NSFW Yeah. You don't fear many things. But Johns disappointment is quite easily in your top three, and this situation only cements it.

Our Girlfriend | @vampire-matcha

141 X Kyle's Gf!Reader | One Shot | 2.2k | NSFW Everyone always talks about John “share my wife” Price but what about Kyle “our girlfriend” Garrick???

"Shared Wife" Trope | @beloveds-embrace

141 x Price's Wife!Reader | One Shot | 1.2k | It wasn’t just him anymore, though. They were always there, watching. Protecting- for you belonged to John, and so did they

Bf Simon Shares Your Nudes With the Boys | @duskier

141 x Simon's Gf!Reader | One shot | 1.2k | NSFW "Come awn, tell us about her Lt," Soap would try and goad him. They were leaned up against each other, shoulder to shoulder against the wall behind them.

Our Girlfriend , 02 , 03 | @3amfanfiction

141 x Johnny's Gf!Reader | Triple Shot | 9.5k | NSFW (unknowingly) being the team's girlfriend. Smut, fluff, & a snippet

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star | @vellichor-of-the-solivagant

Professor!141 X Student!Reader | One Shot | 5.3k | NSFW A musician is a storyteller in their own ways. You had told yours and captured the sights of men you never expected to pull when you stepped inside an academy.

The Prize of Prey | @quitefawnish

Knight!141 x Reader | One Shot | 3.6k | NSFW knights in the middle ages only had to court noble women, whereas any peasant woman was open to their desires, and they were in fact encouraged to do so.

Bodyguard!141 x Sick!Reader | @beloveds-embrace

| One Shot | 1.7k | while you had initially bristled at the idea of four men shadowing your every step, you’d quickly grown accustomed to their presence.It was hard not to. They made you feel protected.

Deductive Reasoning | @auspicioustidings

Merman!141 X Researcher!Reader | One Shot | 1.3k | Mermen au with mer TF141 and researcher reader trying to learn about their... biology

Saint's Story , 02 | @charliemwrites

Omega!141 x Alpha!reader | Double Shot | 3.8k | NSFW having a full-time Alpha in a squad isn’t a necessity except in special circumstances.Per usual, Task Force 141 is special circumstances.

Yandere Hybrid team 141 | @nina-renmen

Hybrid!141 x Polarbear Hybrid!Reader | One Shot | 1.2k | 141 stumbles upon y/n. Thinking that she’s small and fragile they attempt to ‘take advantage’ of her only to figure out she’s a polar bear hybrid.

- Drabbles -

141 x Reader | Drabble | @cod-indulgences 141 finds your dildos NSFW 141 X Younger!Reader | Drabble | @loveindefinitely Uni Student!reader meets the 141 at a military bar 141 x Medic!Reader | Drabble | @goatgoesmbe there are an odd four that somehow always made your day better. Poly!141 X Puppy Girl!Reader | Drabble | @loveindefinitely 141 with a girl who acts more like a puppy than a soldier NSFW Poly!141 x Reader | Drabble | @lunarkitten97 Poly!141 x reader with an oral fixation NSFW Poly!141 x Reader | Drabble | @duskier Price holding your pussy open with his thumbs while the rest of the team looks over his shoulder NSFW Poly!141 x Reader | Drabble | @xo-cod Sharing the barracksSharing the barracks NSFW 141 x Kyle's Gf!Reader | Drabble | @all-purpose-dish-soap Poker night. But the boys know how to keep things interesting Retired!141 x Neighbor!Reader | Drabble | @burner141 they meet you. The charming new neighbor with a pretty voice and an even prettier smile. 141 x Bartender!Reader | Drabble | @devil-in-hiding The boys find out your not married Monster!141 x Owl hybrid!Reader | Drabble | @gremlingottoosilly Monster!141 turn Barn Owl!reader into their pet NSFW Monster!141 x Cat hybrid!Reader | Drabble | @gremlingottoosilly Kitten!reader gets tied up in string just as Monster!141 come back NSFW Monster!141 x Bunny Hybrid!Reader | Drabble | @gremlingottoosilly Crybaby Bunny!Reader who stumbles upon Monster!141's base NSFW Vampire!141 x Human!Reader | @beloveds-embrace they don’t tell you they are vampires and you have no reason to suspect they are Demon!141 x Reader | Drabble | @red5tars demon!141 staking claim on the poor little thing that summoned them. Dark!141 x Angel!Reader | Drabble | @goatgoesmbe GuardianAngel!Reader who was sent to 141 at their darkest time. Hybrid!141 x Human!Reader | @ cs-fox they’d be so surprised when a normal human joins their task force. Hybrid!141 x Crow Hybrid!Reader | Drabble | @ teddy-bear-baby crow hybrid!y/n joining hybrid!TF141 and just stealing random things from them Poly!141 x Beta!Reader | Drabble | @ teletubbyinlipstick okay, hear me out a/b/o tf141 universe where female betas are RARE. Poly!141 x Omega!Reader | Drabble | @ kaadaaan Soap who is sick of being the only omega in his pack so he’s digging up some dirt on another Sergeant Poly!141 x Omega!Reader | Drabble | @ kaadaaan They wind up with another omega, and find themselves more attached than they thought they would be. NSFW Poly!141 x Omega!Reader | Drabble | @ thecherubangel “Simon…f-fuck stop-“ You close your legs and try to move his hand; the others watch as you struggle in Ghosts grasp. NSFW Viking!141 x Reader | Drabble | @ nerdygirlramblings viking!141 with some historical accuracy Knight!141 x Peasant!Reader | Drabble | @ drgnflyteabox four massive armour clad knights at the door... and whaddyaknow, they're looking to stay the night NSFW Cultist!141 x Reader | Drabble | @ pricegouge Outlast2!au “Give us a baby and we’ll keep you safe.”

Last updated 03/11/25

[callsignpxnguin]

Jealous Simon

It had been a lovely night, overall. Simon had taken you out to your favourite restaurant as a surprise reward for you getting a promotion, and everything was just perfect. The music was soft but fitting, conversation had been fun and easy, and you were just feeling happy.

So was Simon. Or, at least he was, until a waiter asked for your number right in front of him. Like he was irrelevant. Like there was a chance that you’d give it to him. Like it wasn’t inexplicably clear that the two of you were on a date.

Safe to say, he got very close to murder the second the waiter dared utter the question.

“I— sorry, but no, I have a partner,” you stuttered in surprise, glancing at Simon as you anticipated his chest puffing up and his hazel eyes darkening like embers.

You tried to shake your head subtly, in an attempt to calm him down and get him to drop it, but he was already stood up and, less than a moment later, had wrapped his meaty arm around your midsection and buried his face in the crook of your neck, practically vibrating with anger.

“Let me at him. One punch. Please,” Simon rumbled, not-so-quietly, as the waiter’s eyebrows shot up and he wisely skittered away. His accent always thickened when he was pissed — and you don’t think you had ever seen him so furious.

“No, Si,” you responded desperately, wrapping him in a hug for the sole purpose of keeping him from flattening the poor waiter. Sure, it was pretty rude and egotistical of him, but that didn’t mean he deserved a bloody death with his remainders splattered across the floor in pieces. “It’s okay. He made a mistake.”

“Oh, yeah, a bloody fuckin’ mistake. I really love those,” Simon growled in response, his grip on you tightening to the point where it was almost uncomfortable. You tried once more to calm him down by kissing his head gently, but to no avail.

“Let me pay the bill and we can leave,” you said gently, prying him off of you. “I won’t leave a tip, if it makes you happy. And… I’ll leave a bad review.” The white lies flowed out and left a bad taste in your mouth, but you were desperate to get him out of his before his temper fully snapped.

He hesitated. “…Fine. But we’re also never coming back here again.” As he raised his head to look down at you, you realised just how murderous his expression was. His eyebrows were slanted into sharp, menacing lines, and, god, his eyes…

Your face fell. “Simon!” He didn’t really expect you to boycott your favourite restaurant because he got jealous, right?

The man hesitated again. “…Not for a while,” he amended, a little quieter.

You huffed affectionately. “You jealous, jealous man. C’mon, let’s head back. Can’t let this spoil our evening.”

Suddenly, Simon’s mouth was at your ear, hot breath blowing against the side of your face. “I’m pounding you so hard when we get home that—“

“That’s enough!” You squeaked, ears flushing pink as you basically dragged him out, throwing some cash on the table as you went.

Nevertheless, he did fulfil his promise. Simon wasn’t one to go back in his word. You should have learnt that by now.

Again, anyone fancy a spicy part two?

[dilf-docs]

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: jackson's loud mouthed spoiled princess has suddenly gone quiet. what or who could be behind such miracle?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (20s/50s), pwp, p. in v., oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, dacryphilia, pussy spanking, fingering, humiliation kink, dom!joel, sub!joel if u squint, soft!joel (look at that switch sandwhich fr), brat!reader (she's annoying and v mean, you've been warned), denial is a river so take this before the world mourns joel miller again

word count: 5,391 words

side note: new layout my citizens! will eventually update all of the blog but as for now, enjoy this one and the masterlist. quick thing, i just wanted to say that i had a very shitty week and for the life of me, can't find a way to make ttdik pt. 4 not oversaturated with angst bc i wish all men a very pleasant die or how to connect what i've written so far. note that this was kinda rushed; i feel confident of some parts and not the whole thing. just hoping it works for y'all! (based on this request)

Joel Miller isn't who he used to be before.

Life in Jackson has made him... soft. This version of him, tired of a life of killing and running, tainted with blood and regret. But he's now an uncle and a father. Well, used to be. Ever since Ellie had found out the truth and wanted nothing to do with him, he had somewhat become downright pathetic. Joel could be both Jackson's most useful man, even at his age, while also being their biggest wretch. Ah, yes: Joel Miller, the man who lived in the house down the street, alone and certainly worth the townsfolk's pity.

Maybe that's why you couldn't bother to be nice to him. In your eyes, a man like Joel just didn't deserve your time or respect.

But it wasn't personal, really. He happened to, unfortunately, be in charge of your patrol. That, in your eyes, made him your enemy: a person to be defied and picked apart. And the worst part is, in his current position, Joel just didn't have the energy to fight you back.

"You want me to cross that wearing this?" your protest comes in the form of a whiny pitch. "Ew, no. I'd rather be dead"

At least dead, you wouldn't be a bother. He rolls his eyes, rubbing his face tiredly. The rest of the group watches the interaction in silence, expressions pretty much the same.

"I promise 'cha, princess. Ya' wouldn't want that"

The nickname should irk you, but you let it pass. It is no news to anyone that you are indeed a princess: Jackson's resident little spoiled brat.

Sheltered from early starts of civilization's downfall, maybe your parents had done more bad than good trying to protect you and settling early on in Jackson. You had grown to be a pampered bitch who made Joel's patience wear thin. Of course, to keep him busy and distracted, Tommy had assigned you to Joel. And while he'd rather not spend his days on a house too big for a person, he too wasn't exactly excited about having to deal with you on your patrol shifts.

(If you could call them that. You did anything but patroling)

You cross your arms, petty. "I'm not moving unless you carry me"

Maybe your need to defy him also came, partly, because of this: the way he's looking at you right now, a quiet rage simmering in those big round brown eyes that remind you of a kicked puppy, but when they burn, they seem like a forest fire, old remnants of the hunter that had been tamed by domestic life and a broken relationship resurfacing.

It excites you.

All your life, people seemed to bend to your will-- a force of nature: to your cruel harsh icy wind. You kept Jackson down at their knees, but it wasn't kindness, rather your shoe up their throats what put them to your feet.

Yet, Joel... he could be a loser to you, but he was probably the only one you'd met to be insane enough to defy you. The only man who didn't succumb to your fluttering eyelashes, pink lips and princess manners. No, he ignored the way you looked at him and your constant begging for attention, leaving the job to those men who seemed to follow your every step, ready to be themselves a carpet for you to step in. He'd roll his eyes and walk past you like you were the most bland, boring and uninteresting thing in the world: not worth a second of his attention. Joel simply wouldn't entertain your spoiled attitude past replying to a few snarky comments.

And that revolted and aroused you in equal parts.

It's not like you could escape your obligation, but perhaps, the bigger reason you chose to not skip patrol like you used to before his arrival, is to see Joel Miller's sinking ships for eyes try to wash over your rebel flame.

"Be free to stay then" he replies, but you don't miss the way his grip on his rifle turns white. "I ain't carryin' no one"

"I can carry you" one of the guys from your group offers.

(You can't remember his name)

"Sure" you chuckle, victory smile dancing on your lips at the sight of him looking above his shoulder in a barely stolen glance, thinking you won't notice.

But you do.

Joel Miller fucking hates you.

After five decades alive, he simply can't stand the idea of breathing the same air as a spoiled little brat like you.

Joel's seen destruction, loss, hopelessness and blood up close, and the thought of you walking around like the world owes you a favor fills him with vitriol.

He's been alive for fifty-six years so he's simply just tired. Too tired to give a damn about your attitude, despite how you manage to press all his buttons every time you open your mouth.

He still remembers the first time he met you, how you laughed like people did before all civilization was destroyed. You walked with a confident strut, boots clicking against Jackson's streets, every step made with determination. Like you knew just where you were going.

He envied you, in a way. After Salt Lake City, he seemed to have lost his path, all in the name of love. Then, that warm feeling had turned cold and cruel like all things in this world ravaged by pain, and he felt even at more loss than the first time he experienced grief.

But you? You lived everyday with a dismissal so cold it seemed like nothing could hurt you.

He missed that part of him who just survived: hardened by the world around him.

But Jackson tamed him. Ellie made him soft.

And then you brought up that old dark part of him: the putrid black liquid that spewed through the cracks of his new character that made him loved by Jackson. The same one that made people fear one of Boston QZ's most brutal smugglers. It was that vicious anger, red on his vision like the ichor that would splatter on his clothes or cover his bruised knuckles.

He hated you for it.

But that was in the past, and Joel Miller simply didn't care.

Yet, you made him care. Outright forced him to.

In a way, it seemed like you enjoyed this: the banter of contained rage and practiced patience, dripping as a leak until it overflew. You'd shot your bratty remarks and petty complains until he'd turn around and see you. Then, you'd smile, like that's all you needed to feel better. Far superior. And he hated it. Knew your little game, and fed into it, even as he told himself he wouldn't. Like a drug: a destroying addiction.

Joel didn't understand why you took the time to enrage him, having even heard once when he was late for patrol (he overslept), how you talked bad about the, in your words, Lonely Pathetic Man From The House On The End Of The Road.

Joel Miller has been patient. God knows he has. But he isn't religious, and was never the type to let things pass by.

No. Joel Miller was born with impel, and no matter how many love he had to give, the world around him constantly reminded him of the power hidden behind the exertion over others, how alive he'd felt with the gift he'd been given by heaven.

He isn't patient. He isn't a fool. He isn't pathetic: and Joel Miller will take matters between his rugged hands.

Tommy had arched an eyebrow first, looking at just his and your name on the patrol schedule.

"What's going on?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother.

"Found a cabin deep on the forest" curt, "I'ont need lot'a people to scavenge the place"

In the end, he agreed. Who didn't? You, obviously, the reason so many before him had gotten rid of their obligation of you. To flirt with you at the Tipsy Bison? Hell yeah. To have you in their patrol team? God, no.

"Where is everyone else?" you cross your arms above your chest, bracing yourself because of the weather. "Also, isn't this climate not patrol appropiate?"

Joel's not dumb, of course he knows that-- he can feel his aching joints shiver and bones creak because of the temperature. But he also knows he's sick of your shit.

"Ain't you little Ms. Know it all" he mocks, brushing past you, shoulders clashing with the same harsh force the icy breeze does to your face.

"And you're an asshole" you're quick to counter, "bringing us out here in the cold. If you wanted to kill me, you could've made it easier for both of us and done it way back in Jackson"

He rolls his eyes at your incessant bickering.

"Watch y'er mouth" is all he says, the brat hanging dangerously close to the tip of his tongue.

"I'd rather watch my step, thank you very much" you purse your plush pink lips, annoyed. "Have you seen the size of this roots? I will trip and break myself"

He chuckles at your hyperboles and the way you jump in a rather exaggerated manner, more in amusement than irritation.

"Don't think ya' can handle all'at?" Joel taunts. "Gon' break like a doll?"

Doll. It hangs in the air, like the snowflakes that fall into your hair and his eyebrows, the white fusing with his own.

"I'm strong" but it comes out weak.

"Don't seem like it" he's laughing at you again, a sharp annoyed edge to it. "With all that complainin' ya' do"

You huff, your incredulity condescing in the air.

"What's wrong with that?"

"With bein' annoyin'?" Joel quips.

"With voicing out my concerns"

He's walking ahead of you, yet you see his shoulders slump, like he does when he disagrees.

"Those ain't concerns, jus' moanin' and bitchin'"

It's still inside the fun banter you're carrying, harmless, but for some reason, it strikes you in the face.

"If you can't stand me so much, why don't you quit on me, like the others?"

You may seem cold, but there's that cut that always bleeds. Or it may be the need for something that blurs the line between you and those survivors out there who've outlived the worst a man can endure.

Like Joel.

You just can't help wanting it all.

Joel stops on his tracks at your words, response barely above a whisper:

"'Cause I ain't a quitter"

As if that could bring any sense into what had started the moment he layed eyes on you.

You finally reach your destiny in silence, the old cabin hanging by a thread.

"This looks like shit" you comment out loud.

Joel lets out a laugh, a deep rumbling sound coming out of his chest. For a reason, red dust makes it's way into your warm cheeks.

"No, doll. In this world, this ain't shit. It's decent"

You don't miss the way your breath hitches and heart skips a beat at the petname. He doesn't miss the way his tongue burns and his jeans squeeze at the sight of you: powerless.

God, Joel could go to hell for this. (But he'd probably be fine)

"Decent? You're one to talk" it spills out, your fear attacking the only way you know how when you're nervous.

Bite.

You hate feeling weak. You hate how your own game has turned on you.

It seems, Joel Miller isn't just a pathetic man but one who knows how to play.

(You knew this. But now, it's real, not the image you touch yourself to during nighttime, and it's equally both exciting and scary)

The red desire for hunger is there on his eyes. "What's that s'pposed to mean?"

You tilt your head, tone feigning innocence. "I think you know what I mean"

He paces around the room, like your floral scent is too suffocating and the cold isn't enough to shake the fire that burns inside him.

"Spit it" he dares, stopping midtrack. You remain silent, so he walks over to you, face so close, some spit lands in your face. "I said, spit it"

"I think you're pathetic, Joel Miller" yet, for some reason, your heart wavers. What were you even doing? Never had you doubted yourself once, sometimes even finding pleasure in the wicked cutthroat words you'd spew, but today, as his face stands dangerously close to you, his breath ghosting over your lips as his eyes roam over them and you count his wrinkles, it feels wrong.

"'S that what 'cha think, doll?" he chuckles, leaning forward. His lips barely brush against yours by mistake, yet it's enough to send shivers all over your body. "Wanna know what I think? I think you're da' real pathetic burden here. Fucken annoyin' and unuseful. All you know how ta' do is complain' and be a bitch"

"A bitch?" your voice is loud as your roar back, probably because it's coming into your face with the force of a train. But that's how truth feels, and it hurts like hell. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

He laughs, bitterly so, equally irritated as fascinated by how easy it's to see you crumble.

Joel made you out to be this unbreakable force, but at the end of the day, you're human, just like him.

"And y'called me pathetic, s' I guess we're even"

You look crazy: hair disheveled by the wind, chest going up and down and that same craze look on your eyes.

"Fuck you, Joel Miller" you seethe.

It's a simple comeback. No witty retort, no elaborated plot. Just four words, yet it's the way you said it, venomous, with such hostility, like his presence alone made you sick. Your skin crawl. Like the thought alone of being equals couldn't pass through your thick skull, and you had to get rid of just the concept; an ofense.

You pull back, realizing how truly close you were. You then march to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

With Joel, there's always a first when it comes to you.

(The first man to catch your attention. The first man to show lack of interest or amusement to your well-known tactics that worked every time. The first man to make your skin crawl like seeing yourself in the mirror. Like you would stare until your image would imprint on your brain, and you'd pick apart every small detail you don't like about you. That was Joel fucking Miller, rolling like thunder, ready to strike over your walls, like he knows where to hit to make you crumble, as if the façade you've built is as much in vain as the hate you carry even with the easy life that's been given to you)

He may be the first man to make you cry.

"Come here!" he shouts, roaring voice reverberating against the walls of the cabin. He swings the door of the bedroom open, finding your satisfied expression as you sit over the old worn out mattress, wiping your tears quickly with a harsh tug of your sweater, coat lying on the dirty floor.

"What?" you ask, as if you hadn't started the fight five seconds ago.

"Ya' think y' can shout and then leave like that?" he spits, "you fucken brat!"

A weird wild spark settles in the pit of your stomach.

"I can do whatever I want"

(The fire. It burns)

He scoffs at your childish response. "Not when y'er under my watch. Like it or not, y'r ma' damn responsability, kid"

Now it's your turn to sneer. "Don't call me that. I'm not a kid"

Of course you fucking weren't: he's got eyes. But goddamn, didn't you act like one all the time?

"Good" his voice adquires a weird tone to it, dropping. "Then strip"

It's like the air's been knocked out of your lungs.

You scoff. "Excuse me?"

"I know you ain't deaf" tone stern, "nor stupid. Are you?"

"Did you just call me stupid?" you raise your voice. Was he going to pull out every single insult from the book? Fair, you think, after you had told him to fuck off in the way you did.

(You were aware your words shoot to kill when you were mad. You had a lot of regrets about that)

"I asked 'cha if ya' were. If there's no answer, I s'ppose that's it"

"I'm not stupid" you counter.

"What?" he's asking you to say it again, like he hasn't heard you.

"You aren't deaf" you repeat his earlier words, eliciting a chuckle out of him.

The windows of the cabin rattle, the cold winter slipping inside the cracks. You shiver yet stand still, not wanting him to misinterpret your body language.

As if you'd ever surrender to him. As if.

"I'm sick of your bullshit" he seethes, "thinkin' ya' can make a clown outta me infront of everyone else, and then look at me like I'm sum piece of meat. Now it's your turn"

"My turn to what?" but this time, your voice wavers. You walk closer, eyelids fluttering.

His uneven breath condensces in the air with a shaky gelid exhale.

"Y'e don't know what you're gettin' into" he warns.

You smile at his barely contained temper. "I think I do"

Joel's body is completely surrounding yours in the bedroom. Before you register, he pulls you by your jaw with his hand.

"Still thinkin' that?" he mocks, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. "Answer me"

But he's pressing his finger on your tongue. You feel yourself starting to drool.

"Ya' really want 'tis, don't 'cha?" his eyes darken, "droolin' like a fucken cockstarved slut. Now strip" his grip tightens, "I won't ask again"

Your body shivers, but no longer because of the temperature drop. A treacherous jolt runs in between your legs at the very first instance of someone putting you in your place. It feels too good to backtrack, but the last remaining drops of sanity plead you to quit.

"Joel" you say his name like a prayer, and he thinks he'd like to see you beg. "I was fucking around-"

"Don't make me repeat myself"

You sit on the edge of the bed, getting rid of your clothes. It's like your mind has stopped working and your body belongs to someone else.

But you want this. Fuck, you had begged for this: sharpening your knife to make your words cut deeper with him until the bleeding was too big to ignore.

You wanted this. Craved it. Needed to satisfy whatever foreign feeling you'd now attribute to your rebellious and spoiled nature.

(You had never been denied anything, and even now, Joel knows this, but can't help and too give in)

"Not so loud now, are we?" he jests, "but 's worth the view, lettin' 'cha run your spoiled tongue off"

He hums with approval at the sight of your body, your pliant energy making his hard cock twitch in his pants.

"You like what you see, Joel?" you ask softly, despite your resistence.

He groans at that, calloused digits grazing the soft skin of your virgin collarbones.

"I do, princess" he answers, lifiting your chin up. "I'll show ya'"

He takes your hand into his bigger one, moving it right onto the spot between his legs.

"You've been bad, little spoiled brat" Joel's voice rasps as your thighs rub together. Y'er lucky I like that"

He pats your cheek. "Wanna make it up to me?" you eagerly nod, desperate for Joel's approval. You hate not having the upper hand, and a part of you thinks you'd get it back if you behave well. "Good girl. Now sit"

He sits next to you, patting his thick thighs. You salivate just at the thought, moving your body over his denim clad lap. "Right'ere"

"Look at 'cha" he parts your legs, a hoarse tks falling from his lips. Joel chuckles at the wet mess that's created. "So fucken wet and I ain't even touched yet"

You feel his rough digits ghost over your dripping cunt, just as his lips had done minutes ago. The teasing sets you on edge, thrill coarsing through your veins. Without warning, his big palm slaps against your cunt, and you feel yourself soaking your folds like you had never ever before.

"Fucken dirty whore. You ain't no princess, gettin' wet to 'tis" he mocks, "what would daddy say"

"Shut up" you sneer, but your body is full of hormones and treason.

"Not when I'm above 'cha, darlin'. Wouldn't wanna piss me off when I'm the one who decides if 'tis pretty pussy comes or not"

"What makes you think I'll take shit from you?" but it comes out as a whimper. Smack. A jolt runs straight from your pussy, stinging from the contact. "Didn't take it when we where in patrol, why should I do now?"

He laughs, darkly. It's haunting.

"'Cause you want 'tis. And I know you'll be a good girl for me to get it"

You feel yourself dizzy, head spinning as you land on the floor.

"Let's see if I get 'cha to shut up if that dirty bratty mouth of y'rs is stuffed full of ma' cock"

He pulls down his worn-out jeans, getting rid of his belt on a harsh pull. The clinking sound makes you rub your thighs together in a new found anticipation, instead of taking the time to run away from this, whatever the hell this is.

No. He's right.

You want this as much as he does.

(Isn't that the scariest part?)

"Ya' like what 'cha see, y/n?" he's smart to use your same words back, but it's the way he's said your name, like he was always meant to say it, or the angry throbb of his cock, what makes you drool at the red furious tip, dripping with rage and need.

"I think it's your dick who's more excited than me" you taunt, tracing the inner soft skin of his thick thighs. "Practically begging for me to lick it"

His adam's apple bobs.

"Tell me, Joel, when was the last time someone made this pretty big cock feel good?"

"Enough" his fingers grab your hair, pulling you harshly until he drags your mouth onto his cock. "I'm tired of y'er bullshit"

You aren't a stranger, he thinks, with the way you kiss his tip, tongue making a wet circle through the head of his cock. You take him into your mouth, pulling out in a second.

"W-what you do that for?" he asks, breathing rapidly. Strained voice.

You smirk.

"To watch you"

To watch how his eyes had closed as soon as your breath ghosted over his leaking cock, how he threw his head back and gripped the sheets viciously at just your shameless lazy circling. Joel Miller could be in charge, but God, wasn't he touch-starved?

(And for a reason, that was so fucking hot. And, in a way, adorable)

"J-just 'cause I'm-" he cuts himself off, probably out of need or out of embarrassment. "You're not in charge, so don't fuck around with your chances, slut. Imma show you y'r place real quick"

His grip tightens in your hair, forcing himself back into your mouth. Joel was punishing, with the way he's pushing your head down until it was at the base of his cock. You gagged for a moment, eyes closing at the weight of his thick girth on your tongue. 

"Takin' it like a champ, princess. Usin' that mouth of y'rs for good" and then, with a softer tone he adds, "like ya're made for me"

You moan around him as he starts fucking into your mouth, pulling you off quickly, saliva slipping out of your mouth as you gasp for air. 

"Joel" you whine his name, legs pressing together in order to get any friction. 

"Now you beggin'? 'S gonna take more than jus' that, doll" he taunts, but there's a certain wicked softness to the way he traces your cheek as you scramble an attempt. "Try harder, princess"

"I'm sorry, Joel-"

He moves his head, clearly dissatisfied.

"Not Joel. Ya' call me sir when I fuck you"

A mewl escapes your lips.

"Sir" comes out like a faithless prayer, begging to be heard. "I'll do anything, sir, please, touch me"

"Al'ight, but still, it ain't 'nough"

Oh.

The hot tears in the corner of your eyes shouldn't arouse him this much, but the watery promise makes his cock twitch.

"I-I'll do anything, I swear" you beg, the salty tears stream down your cheeks in cascades. "It hurts, Jo-" you whine, "sir, please. Just fuck me goddamit!"

Your once poised voice, now reduced to a whimpering begging mess. Your red rimmed eyes, beginning to puff. It's the way a gloss seems to coat over them, making you look like a doe-eyed deer and not the brat who challenged his every decision and word.

Fuck, isn't he aroused.

"Lookin' so pretty when you cry" he smiles, but instead of wiping the tears, it's his tongue that licks them off your face. "You beggin' that bad to take my cock"

You nod, eagerly so.

"Please, Jo- Just, please. D-don't make me beg" your face feels hot and wet again, "I-I can't take it anymore. Just fucking give it to me!"

"Easy, baby. Can't understand a thing you sayin'" Joel teases. "Where your manners at, besides?"

"Please, sir" he gently pulls you up, humming in satisfaction.

"Goin' crazy over my cock, baby? Y'sure have a nerve to call one pathetic if you gon' act like this, you little brat"

But he is the one moaning when his lips cature your mouth with a fierce impulse, like he wants to devour you whole and swallow your vocals, as to never speak up again.

(But then, he wouldn't hear his name on your sweet albeit snotty voice, and that's a privilege he can't forbid himself from, no matter how annoying you can get sometimes)

"Please" you whisper one last time. He wipes a stray tear with his rough thumb. "I'm yours"

"See, baby? It ain't that hard to shut that mouth of y'rs"

He guides you to the old bed while renewing the kiss, tongues now engaged on a battle for dominance, like even without using your words you'd still need to assert your power over the other. You moan into his mouth when your body slams against the mattress and Joel lands on top, his weight sinking you in the old bed, that creaks.

"I just want to be a good girl for you" you whimper.

"You sure of that? Not gon' be a brat?" and despite his harsh tone that seems to humiliate you, his wandering fingers are gentle with each touch, like if he were to put any more force, you'd break. Joel thinks it's not necessary with you: just with you begging for his cock, he's broken you.

"No, sir" and then you whimper as his mouth dives to the collarbones you had taunted him with before. Joel takes his time, inhaling the musk and savoring the sweet of your skin. Needy whines leave your lips, and he's having the time of his life seeing you surrender so easily, like you had no idea what limits to push, where they'd take you and how you'd pay for that.

"C-Can I touch you?" you whisper, hands itching to tangle on his grey parted hair. He chuckles at the eagerness and tenderness you don't seem aware of.

"S' you can be sweet if ya' want to, huh?" he leaves a fluttering kiss to your chin. "Needy and desperate too. Do ya' want to touch, princess? Remember to use y'r words"

"Yes, sir. I-I want to touch you"

"Thought I disgusted you, hmm? I take you've learnt y'r lesson now?"

"Yes, I've learned. Please, sir, won't do it again" you plead.

"I'll allow ya' to touch, doll" he gives you a smirk, "but 'ts all you get for now"

He lets your hands cling to his coat, taking it off. Then, you proceed to his buttoned shirt, fingers flidding with buttons until you grown annoyed and desperate, pulling the fabric over his head with need.

"Look at 'cha" but there's only adoration, proven so when he starts to kiss the trail of soft skin that goes from your neck to your stomach, making you squirm. "Easy, baby. 'M gettin' down there"

He finally reaches your core, kissing the inner side of your thighs with wet and sloppy lips. His hot breath tingles over your clit, and a beat later, his mouth presses into your cunt, your back arching at the cold contact of his chapped lips against the humid hot of your folds.

You muffle a moan, embarrassed at the whole situation.

"Ain't need to worry 'bout nothin', doll. Nobody can hear us" he grins, tongue flicking your clit. "Wanna listen to your pretty whimpers as I make 'cha feel good"

You cry out of pleasure, the sound escaping past your lips. Joel has a laugh.

"Good girl"

Joel rewards you with another series of minstrations on your bud, licks made with determination only the expert man knows of. He then slides one finger into you, slowly moving it in and out of your soaked trembling heat. 

"M-more" you beg, eager to get more fingers inside you. "Please, more, sir"

You buck your hips to try to get closer to him, meeting his thrusts.

Joel tuts, "What're you doin', spoiled brat? Did I tell ya' to move? You were doing such'a great job... guess I gotta punish you-"

"No!" you shout. "Do anything you want, but touch me, please- touch me!"

He introduces a second finger, raising his brow at the immediate way you clench around him. Joel curls them, robbing another moan out of you.

"Feels good?" you can't answer, as a hard thrust robs another moan from you. "But I'ont want 'cha to think we done, princess. Think I'd let you come, jus' like that? After all's happened?"

"Need you" you tug him closer with your arms holding onto his. "Joel, sir- please"

"Oh, princess" he smirks, "I think you don't know what you askin' for"

Joel grabs his hand around his length, coating the tip in your slicky juices, and then, he presses his length into you in one thrust.

"You're big-" you pant as he gives you time to adjust to his size. Joel then picks up an unrelenting pace that makes moans spill out of you like a fountain, the pace of his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge. 

"N-need to-"

"Don't" he seethes. "Ya' won't 'till I tell ya' can"

All you could do is moan, helplessly pinned between his body and the bed. Your whole body shakes in an effort to contain as his hips loose their rhythm, his groans louder as he gets closer and closer to the edge. 

"Al'ight. 'Cause you've been good" his cock drives through your walls with rhythmic melodies. "Cum, princess, but when ya' do, look at me"

You're seeing stars the moment your toes curl and his head falls to clash against your forehead.

(The beads of sweat roll down out of him like trails to follow, and his scarred rugged skin doesn't compare to your soft one, painted with the maroon of his bites and kissing at the skin of your collarbone. The dried up trails of tears. Your begging and desperate voice. His name on your lips)

It only takes a few more thrusts before he spills in you, cock twitching until every last drop of thick hot white cum is pumped into you.

Joel then pulls out gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead before flopping onto you, the mattress dipping even further. With his hand, he removes a stray strand of damp hair, putting it behind you ear with such tender kindness, your heart strings pull.

"In fact, I want ya' to look at me next time y'even think 'bout defying me. See if that mouth of y'ers can talk after 'tis"

A week later, you're back at patrolling.

"Anyone got anythin' to say?"

The group looks at you. You're about to open your mouth, but Joel cocks an eyebrow.

Just like that, and you're gone. Great job, y/n.

"Whatever" you sound meek as you push past him, yet he catches a glimpse of your warm cheeks. "Let's go"

The rest are too stunned to speak, the silence only cut off by Miller's laugh.

"Would 'cha look at that?" he whistles. "Ain't nobody tell ya' miracles don't happen anymore on this goddamn world!"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @chappellsroans

[trazmilo]

Help a Family in Need

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is facing one of the most challenging times of his life. Mohamad is 37 years old and left his homeland in 2015 in search of a safer and better future. He’s a kind, hardworking man, and his small family has always been his greatest priority.

Living abroad, Mohamad has recently endured unimaginable loss and financial strain. Amidst the ongoing conflict in his homeland, his mother passed away, leaving behind his sister and her five young children—the last remaining members of his immediate family.

As the situation worsened, Mohamad managed to help his sister and her children escape to safety in Egypt, covering their immediate needs and securing a temporary refuge for them. Since then, he has been fully responsible for providing everything they need to survive during this transition.

In his efforts to support his family and cope with this devastating loss, Mohamad has found himself deeply in debt. To make matters even more difficult, he recently underwent knee surgery, which limits his ability to return to work for the foreseeable future. This has made it even harder for him to manage his financial responsibilities and the pressing need to provide his family with a stable future.

Mohamad is now working to bring his sister and her five children to join him in Belgium, where he hopes they can find stability and opportunity after all they’ve endured. This transition, however, requires significant resources that he is currently unable to meet alone.

For privacy reasons, we are not sharing Mohamad’s full name, as he has chosen to keep his identity discreet. While he initially refused the idea of asking for help, I couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle alone. I insisted on doing this for him because he deserves a chance to overcome these challenges.

Your contribution will help Mohamad repay the debt incurred during this difficult time, cover ongoing living expenses for his family, and assist with the costs involved in bringing them safely to Belgium.

Mohamad has been a good friend of mine for years, and I’ve always admired his resilience and generosity. Any support, no matter the size, will make an incredible difference in helping Mohamad and his family rebuild their lives after these painful experiences.

Thank you for reading his story and considering helping a man who has always done everything he can for his loved ones.

Adam

✅ Vetted by Association: @bilal-salah0

Donate & share: Donation Link

[zibltarotia]

Help a Family in Need

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is facing one of the most challenging times of his life. Mohamad is 37 years old and left his homeland in 2015 in search of a safer and better future. He’s a kind, hardworking man, and his small family has always been his greatest priority.

Living abroad, Mohamad has recently endured unimaginable loss and financial strain. Amidst the ongoing conflict in his homeland, his mother passed away, leaving behind his sister and her five young children—the last remaining members of his immediate family.

As the situation worsened, Mohamad managed to help his sister and her children escape to safety in Egypt, covering their immediate needs and securing a temporary refuge for them. Since then, he has been fully responsible for providing everything they need to survive during this transition.

In his efforts to support his family and cope with this devastating loss, Mohamad has found himself deeply in debt. To make matters even more difficult, he recently underwent knee surgery, which limits his ability to return to work for the foreseeable future. This has made it even harder for him to manage his financial responsibilities and the pressing need to provide his family with a stable future.

Mohamad is now working to bring his sister and her five children to join him in Belgium, where he hopes they can find stability and opportunity after all they’ve endured. This transition, however, requires significant resources that he is currently unable to meet alone.

For privacy reasons, we are not sharing Mohamad’s full name, as he has chosen to keep his identity discreet. While he initially refused the idea of asking for help, I couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle alone. I insisted on doing this for him because he deserves a chance to overcome these challenges.

Your contribution will help Mohamad repay the debt incurred during this difficult time, cover ongoing living expenses for his family, and assist with the costs involved in bringing them safely to Belgium.

Mohamad has been a good friend of mine for years, and I’ve always admired his resilience and generosity. Any support, no matter the size, will make an incredible difference in helping Mohamad and his family rebuild their lives after these painful experiences.

Thank you for reading his story and considering helping a man who has always done everything he can for his loved ones.

Adam

✅ Vetted by Association: @bilal-salah0

Donate & share: Donation Link

[juvzotrino]

Help a Family in Need

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is facing one of the most challenging times of his life. Mohamad is 37 years old and left his homeland in 2015 in search of a safer and better future. He’s a kind, hardworking man, and his small family has always been his greatest priority.

Living abroad, Mohamad has recently endured unimaginable loss and financial strain. Amidst the ongoing conflict in his homeland, his mother passed away, leaving behind his sister and her five young children—the last remaining members of his immediate family.

As the situation worsened, Mohamad managed to help his sister and her children escape to safety in Egypt, covering their immediate needs and securing a temporary refuge for them. Since then, he has been fully responsible for providing everything they need to survive during this transition.

In his efforts to support his family and cope with this devastating loss, Mohamad has found himself deeply in debt. To make matters even more difficult, he recently underwent knee surgery, which limits his ability to return to work for the foreseeable future. This has made it even harder for him to manage his financial responsibilities and the pressing need to provide his family with a stable future.

Mohamad is now working to bring his sister and her five children to join him in Belgium, where he hopes they can find stability and opportunity after all they’ve endured. This transition, however, requires significant resources that he is currently unable to meet alone.

For privacy reasons, we are not sharing Mohamad’s full name, as he has chosen to keep his identity discreet. While he initially refused the idea of asking for help, I couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle alone. I insisted on doing this for him because he deserves a chance to overcome these challenges.

Your contribution will help Mohamad repay the debt incurred during this difficult time, cover ongoing living expenses for his family, and assist with the costs involved in bringing them safely to Belgium.

Mohamad has been a good friend of mine for years, and I’ve always admired his resilience and generosity. Any support, no matter the size, will make an incredible difference in helping Mohamad and his family rebuild their lives after these painful experiences.

Thank you for reading his story and considering helping a man who has always done everything he can for his loved ones.

Adam

✅ Vetted by Association: @bilal-salah0

Donate & share: Donation Link

[xelazap]

AND NO. your money didn’t just “pay for that”. it’s OUR (collective) money - your share wouldn’t get a fleck of steak at ALL. it also took more than money. it took the labor of people who start organizing and form programs & policy that feeds people!!! right now i am watching my food systems nonprofit lose funding and we provide SCHOOLS with nutrient dense, farm fresh food and technical training to school cafeteria staff so they can cook like chefs and not from the instructions of processed foods.

because KIDS (and adults - we have other adult nutrition programs) deserve nutrient dense food GIVEN that all diseases stem from our diet (which is severely FUCKED UP in our current food system - which we also do Policy, Systems, and Environment work to change!!!!) and our org is losing funding right fucking now.

we were BUILDING the equitable, diverse, resilient food system we deserve in this country and they’re terminating contracts without cause and for “convenience” which is explicitly prohibited. needless to say we’re fighting for our rights and i’m proud to be serving my country by holding these agencies accountable to their contracts.

if you have read this far, thank u 🙏🏼

If you want to help, find your House reps & members of congress here and ask them to support these actions:

- H.R.1145 - Nobody Elected Elon Musk Act

- H.R.994 - Stop Musk Act

- H.R. 186 -Of inquiry requesting the President to transmit certain documents to the House of Representatives relating to the conflicts of interest of Elon Musk and related information.

[yilprozati]

Help a Family in Need

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is facing one of the most challenging times of his life. Mohamad is 37 years old and left his homeland in 2015 in search of a safer and better future. He’s a kind, hardworking man, and his small family has always been his greatest priority.

Living abroad, Mohamad has recently endured unimaginable loss and financial strain. Amidst the ongoing conflict in his homeland, his mother passed away, leaving behind his sister and her five young children—the last remaining members of his immediate family.

As the situation worsened, Mohamad managed to help his sister and her children escape to safety in Egypt, covering their immediate needs and securing a temporary refuge for them. Since then, he has been fully responsible for providing everything they need to survive during this transition.

In his efforts to support his family and cope with this devastating loss, Mohamad has found himself deeply in debt. To make matters even more difficult, he recently underwent knee surgery, which limits his ability to return to work for the foreseeable future. This has made it even harder for him to manage his financial responsibilities and the pressing need to provide his family with a stable future.

Mohamad is now working to bring his sister and her five children to join him in Belgium, where he hopes they can find stability and opportunity after all they’ve endured. This transition, however, requires significant resources that he is currently unable to meet alone.

For privacy reasons, we are not sharing Mohamad’s full name, as he has chosen to keep his identity discreet. While he initially refused the idea of asking for help, I couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle alone. I insisted on doing this for him because he deserves a chance to overcome these challenges.

Your contribution will help Mohamad repay the debt incurred during this difficult time, cover ongoing living expenses for his family, and assist with the costs involved in bringing them safely to Belgium.

Mohamad has been a good friend of mine for years, and I’ve always admired his resilience and generosity. Any support, no matter the size, will make an incredible difference in helping Mohamad and his family rebuild their lives after these painful experiences.

Thank you for reading his story and considering helping a man who has always done everything he can for his loved ones.

Adam

✅ Vetted by Association: @bilal-salah0

Donate & share: Donation Link

[with-my-calamitous-love]

and if it all ended tomorrow (would i be the one on your mind?)

ya! katsuki bk. x reader

katsuki is finally discharged from the hospital and returns home to you after nearly losing his life in battle. coming home to you, he realizes all he has to lose. angst/comfort, and huge dedication to my mha-writing mutuals because you deserve all the comfort and love in the world. @crushmeeren @suksatoru @peachsukii @osamucide (i don't think you write for this fandom but love regardless) @whenanafallsinlove

rewatched the bnha ending and thought to write this. this is timeskip! katsuki so its different incidents, but still, slight bnha ending spoilers. i love you, eternal sunshine

song: intro (end of the world)

“its my line of work, idiot.” he’s told you numerous times. “its part of being a hero.”

“that doesn’t mean i have to like it, kats.”

“yeah?” he scoffs, pulling you closer into him, scars littering his muscles, battle wounds he wore proud. he couldn’t care less about some marks on him if it meant he was doing his job right.

“i’m not gonna die. i’m too good for that.” he says, making sure you’re looking at him in the eye. you smile a little at his cockiness. what a dick.

“i love you, katsuki.”

“love you too, dumbass.”

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

even with his words, the confidence you fell in love with, he still almost got himself killed. his life would have drained. you nearly lost him. it still hurts, even if it is just almost.

all your clothes in the closet he built for you. 2am, raging at building manuals, but still managing it because he can’t say no to you.

but right now, you’re only wearing his clothes. the smell of his cologne is fading, but the warmth is still there. if he were here, he’d probably scold you for not doing your own laundry. but when getting out of bed is difficult? laundry is an afterthought. if he were here, he’d understand that.

when you got the news of katsuki’s injury, the world begin spinning faster. the wind picked up, running through branches and leaves, swirling around you and snatching the breath out of your lungs. knowing his recklessness in his line of work left a lingering worry in the back of your mind, a thought you hoped would never come to fruition. but injuries were inevitable, even life threatening injuries ones. the world keeps spinning even when a pro hero gets hurt on the job.

but seeing him in the hospital, with about 10 different wires attached to him, made the world stop.

the day he went into a coma, so did the world. the sun ceased its heat, so did the night and its chill. his heart kept beating thanks to some high tech machine. yours stopped at the sight of him, on the brink of death.

and the worst part? this wasn’t the first time. you were privy to the first incident- the hit he took to the heart, protecting somebody else, that stopped his heart completely. so in a way, this shouldn’t be new. but it still stings the same. because to you? its so much more than losing your boyfriend.

it's knowing that as a hero, he belongs to the world, and not just you. it's knowing that this is what he signed up for after years of training and dedication. its knowing that the best you can do is support him and wait for him at the end of every battle. its knowing that katsuki would live, and eventually, die a hero.

visits started everyday. then once a week. then only when you were missing him bad, and just wanted to hurt yourself by seeing him on that hospital bed, slow breathing and weak grasp.

and before you knew it, a month has passed with nothing. even with all the reassurance from the doctors that he would be okay, based on his health and resilience, you couldn’t believe it if he wasn’t the one telling you.

he’s still alive, but its hard not to mourn his presence in your apartment. because missing katsuki is such a physical thing- it's his absence, felt in every sense. like his hero mask left on your bedside, but never him wearing it. like a song he told you to listen to because its "good fucking music" but cutting it off right before the chorus. like feeling the ghost of his fingertips over your skin, lips kissing over your shoulder, but remembering that no ones there. an embrace that haunts you, long after its gone.

and soon enough, you're crying again.

anything serves to pass the time- tv, sleeping, reading- but the lingering ache in your chest wants to make itself known. and then there's the fact that even if katsuki made a full recovery, this wouldn't be the last time you're choked down with anxiety, fearing for him in his life, feeling it slip from your fingertips. he's a hero and he belongs to the world. but you do also wish he could just be yours. maybe a little selfishly so.

your laptop is blaring with some show you don't care about. you've changed hoodies again- because this one isn't soaked with tears and you want to wear his clothes- even if you took it from the laundry bin. food sits on the stove, maybe a little burnt, but you're probably not going to eat it anyway. you wonder if he's thinking of you, too, somewhere in murky dreams, your smile cutting through the clouds and shining on him. you wonder if he knows you'd be there, even if the world ended tomorrow. that he'd be the one on your mind. and you wonder if you'd be the one on his.

certainly, you are on his mind to some degree, otherwise he wouldn't be banging the front door with his fist, impatiently waiting to see you.

you yell that you're already coming, rudely pulling the door open to whoever decided to interrupt your pathetic crying session. when you see that it's katsuki? the ground beneath your feet dissolves.

"hey." is all he says at first. he peers into the apartment, seeing the obvious signs that you've been alone. he'd be mouthing off about the unfolded clothes and the cheap fast food wrappers in the trash if he wasn't so focused on the sheer fact that he was finally with you again.

his lips almost curve into a smile, seeing how you can't find the words for a moment. you scramble, almost embarrassingly so, to piece together a sentence: "what... when did you get out?"

he shrugs: "maybe an hour ago."

you have maybe a million follow-up questions, but the tears reach your eyes before words reach your lips. and he's quick to see it, practically catching you into a hug, like your legs were about to give up. he lets himself into the house, shutting the door behind him while pulling you into his chest. just 5 minutes ago, you were scrolling through photos and videos, pretending that a screen could be as good as the real thing. now, you're crying in his arms, his bones and flesh wrapping around you like a poignant reminder that he's alive.

"its okay dumbass, i'm here." he says, head resting on top of yours. he's particularly gentle this time around, cradling your face and making sure you see him. his heart winces a little when he sees the physicality of how bad you missed him- slumped shoulders, eye bags and tear stained cheeks. its the determination in him that wants to end that for you. "i've got you. you're fine."

after a few minutes, you compose yourself, taking a deep breath. "they just let you leave? like that?"

"they didn't let me, i made them." he smirks.

you shoot him a look, because of course he left without better judgement, and he has the audacity to laugh. this is the asshole you wanted back so badly.

"it's fine. i feel fine." he reassures you. "why would i spend longer in some hospital when i've got you waiting for me?"

oh, the urge to fall back in love with him at his loyalty. but you know better: "that's not the point, kats. you could stilll be hurt."

"i'm not."

"okay, but... you still almost died."

he takes a deep breath, knowing that you're right but never saying it out loud. he almost died. you almost lost him, and he can see how heavily its weighed on you. the fact that he could mean so much to someone like this, that someone could mourn the very though of losing him? that someone would think of him, even if the world was ending, the way you have?

maybe he's the one falling in love with you, all over again.

he opens his mouth, about to say something. something probably about how its his duty, that its everything he's worked for. but none of that absolves the pain of knowing his heart almost stopped just a month ago.

"i know you recovered and i'm glad you did. but you almost died. again. and don't lecture me about how it's your job."

his expression is something between guilt and resolve. he's never been good with words, unless it was coming up with stinging insults or a series of cleverly strung-together swear words. but he's still determined to try, like he is with everything he loves.

"babe, i know you're worried." he says, stroking your cheek. "and i really fucking love you for that. but it's my job. it's who i am."

and he's also right. he's a hero, the very foundation of the man you fell for. and mas much as it hurts to see, you'd never want him to stop being who he is. because katsuki bakugou, at his core, is a protector. even if its with his life.

you let out a shaky breath, just looking down. apart of you doesn't want him to see you, see how much of a mess you are. though katsuki knows damn well he'd love you anywhere, at any time, all dolled up or crying in his arms. if you can love him at his weakest, when he's knocked out on a hospital bed for the millionth time? he can love you at yours, too.

"idiot, look at me." he says gently, lifting your face back up.

"what?" you whisper, scared tears will fall again if your voice dares to go higher.

"its my job to protect people, yeah. but i'm not going anywhere. not when i've got you to come home, too. you're my reason, idiot. you're the reason i fight."

theres a pang in your chest when he says that, deep sincerity woven into his words as he speaks. every hero has a something to protect, something to live for- and for katsuki, it's you. without hesitation or doubts.

"you're forgetting i'm still here." he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckle. he sits you down on the couch, kneeling in front of you so you can really see him- see his breathing, his moving eyes and warm, loving lips pressed to your skin.

"i'm alive. i'm okay. you don't have to worry, dumbass. and you definitely don't have to be a mess 'cause of me."

you crack a fraction of a smile at that. "you think i'm a mess?"

he huffs a bit of laughter, because you both know that mess is one of the only words that encapsulates what its like to miss katsuki- anger, grief, and confusion thrown onto neglected laundry and albums of photos. but more importantly, mess describes what its like loving him: messy morning kisses, hair sticking up and messy, lovelorn fingerprints all over his heart. "yeah, i think you're a mess right now. only a little though."

you roll your eyes, ignoring that fluttering, nervous feeling he somehow still gives you even after all these years. "yeah, well, forgive me for missing you."

"you know i missed you too." he adds, simple words that resonate deeply with both of you. yet, you still can't resist teasing him a little: "how could you? you were asleep."

he chuckles softly. "i felt it in my bones, my dreams, i don't know. all that spiritual bullshit." he gets up from his knees to embrace you again.

"you might not wanna hug me. i haven't showered in like..." you trail off, embarrassed of the answer. he rolls his eyes, offended by the idea that he cares about that.

"yeah, yeah. i've been in a coma for a month, dumbass. i doubt i smell like roses right now."

"is that your way of saying you don't care?" you smile.

"its my way of saying i love you." he smiles back. "idiot."

because katsuki would love you, even if you haven't showered. if the sun refused to shine, you'd still love him. if the moon went dark, you'd still be his. if it all ended tomorrow, you'd still be the one on his mind.

and that's something he'd risk it all for.

"we should probably still shower, though."

"together?"

"obviously, idiot."

[flaztoprot]

Help a Family in Need

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is facing one of the most challenging times of his life. Mohamad is 37 years old and left his homeland in 2015 in search of a safer and better future. He’s a kind, hardworking man, and his small family has always been his greatest priority.

Living abroad, Mohamad has recently endured unimaginable loss and financial strain. Amidst the ongoing conflict in his homeland, his mother passed away, leaving behind his sister and her five young children—the last remaining members of his immediate family.

As the situation worsened, Mohamad managed to help his sister and her children escape to safety in Egypt, covering their immediate needs and securing a temporary refuge for them. Since then, he has been fully responsible for providing everything they need to survive during this transition.

In his efforts to support his family and cope with this devastating loss, Mohamad has found himself deeply in debt. To make matters even more difficult, he recently underwent knee surgery, which limits his ability to return to work for the foreseeable future. This has made it even harder for him to manage his financial responsibilities and the pressing need to provide his family with a stable future.

Mohamad is now working to bring his sister and her five children to join him in Belgium, where he hopes they can find stability and opportunity after all they’ve endured. This transition, however, requires significant resources that he is currently unable to meet alone.

For privacy reasons, we are not sharing Mohamad’s full name, as he has chosen to keep his identity discreet. While he initially refused the idea of asking for help, I couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle alone. I insisted on doing this for him because he deserves a chance to overcome these challenges.

Your contribution will help Mohamad repay the debt incurred during this difficult time, cover ongoing living expenses for his family, and assist with the costs involved in bringing them safely to Belgium.

Mohamad has been a good friend of mine for years, and I’ve always admired his resilience and generosity. Any support, no matter the size, will make an incredible difference in helping Mohamad and his family rebuild their lives after these painful experiences.

Thank you for reading his story and considering helping a man who has always done everything he can for his loved ones.

Adam

✅ Vetted by Association: @bilal-salah0

Donate & share: Donation Link

[catblinker]

privileged asshole who's never been told no getting domesticated tonite? guy who's never encountered real hardship and thinks he deserves to take what he wants taught to sit pretty and beg when he wants something tonite queen? taking a guy who thinks he can claim you and breaking him so hard he takes joy in being less than you because he gets to be yours tonite?

My problem with heterosexual romance novels (which I am reading under duress due to my coworker book club but find somewhat entertaining cuz they're not something I normally wld read) is that whenever the love interest is an asshole the author also makes him all dommy dom. when what I really want is for him to be thoroughly put in his place. All of these shithead Christian grey knockoff guys in these books would be excellent brat material but nobody cares what I want. Nobody cares what I want

[zibltarad]

Help a Family in Need

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is facing one of the most challenging times of his life. Mohamad is 37 years old and left his homeland in 2015 in search of a safer and better future. He’s a kind, hardworking man, and his small family has always been his greatest priority.

Living abroad, Mohamad has recently endured unimaginable loss and financial strain. Amidst the ongoing conflict in his homeland, his mother passed away, leaving behind his sister and her five young children—the last remaining members of his immediate family.

As the situation worsened, Mohamad managed to help his sister and her children escape to safety in Egypt, covering their immediate needs and securing a temporary refuge for them. Since then, he has been fully responsible for providing everything they need to survive during this transition.

In his efforts to support his family and cope with this devastating loss, Mohamad has found himself deeply in debt. To make matters even more difficult, he recently underwent knee surgery, which limits his ability to return to work for the foreseeable future. This has made it even harder for him to manage his financial responsibilities and the pressing need to provide his family with a stable future.

Mohamad is now working to bring his sister and her five children to join him in Belgium, where he hopes they can find stability and opportunity after all they’ve endured. This transition, however, requires significant resources that he is currently unable to meet alone.

For privacy reasons, we are not sharing Mohamad’s full name, as he has chosen to keep his identity discreet. While he initially refused the idea of asking for help, I couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle alone. I insisted on doing this for him because he deserves a chance to overcome these challenges.

Your contribution will help Mohamad repay the debt incurred during this difficult time, cover ongoing living expenses for his family, and assist with the costs involved in bringing them safely to Belgium.

Mohamad has been a good friend of mine for years, and I’ve always admired his resilience and generosity. Any support, no matter the size, will make an incredible difference in helping Mohamad and his family rebuild their lives after these painful experiences.

Thank you for reading his story and considering helping a man who has always done everything he can for his loved ones.

Adam

✅ Vetted by Association: @bilal-salah0

Donate & share: Donation Link

[earlgreylatte]

When You’re Small

Where you run into the Teen Team. Mark continues to be annoying.

You’re seventeen. It’s been a year since you swapped out your white and mint green suit for black, and your ‘silly’ goggles, that resembled a snowboarders more than a hero’s, for a equally dark gas mask.

…You look a bit spooky.

(Art watches you take in your new outfit, “A bit…dark, don’t you think? Especially with the red lenses. Be careful, or you might be confused for a villain, kid,” He comments.

“I’d rather not be seen to begin with, and it’s cool. I look like the Courier from Fallout,” you reply, taking off the mask. “And good job, I can actually smell less for once.”

Your father found it a bit amusing that your nose was particularly sensitive. It was honestly overkill when paired with your advanced hearing.

“Fallout?”

“You’d love it, Art, not much fishing though, but there is crafting.”

“If you say so, kid.”)

You’ve started to work late into the night, so the black suits you just fine.

Cecil is reliable, you think, and even nice, sometimes.

He doesn’t toss you out to fight dragons and powered terrorists, instead having you deal with crime where you actually feel like you’re making a difference. Beating down scum that hurt women, children, and animals left you satisfied. You were confident that this work was good. And not just because they couldn’t fight back and use your own strength against you.

(Sometimes you want to stop holding back against them. To kill them. They’d deserve it. You don’t. Instead you beat them within an inch of their life. Just an inch.)

You know that he knows. That you ended a civilian’s life with your carelessness. He doesn’t comment on it. You don’t even know if they were able to ID the remains, you’re too scared to ask.

Your dad gives backhanded remarks on how you’re wasting your time. You’d reply that by his logic, every hero is wasting their time. He only grunts in annoyance when your mom shoots him a look.

You think he’s just acting all sulky because your costume no longer resembles his.

Despite the petty arguments, you continue to live your life day by day.

You meet your superpowered…peers after school, when you’re outside of costume. You had just been at comic book store, picking up the newest issue of ‘Seance Dog’ when you heard a crash from outside, followed by screams and cries. Peaking out, you immediately notice a snake like beast terrorize the streets.

You don’t really want to do this, but you’re not a big enough piece of shit to just walk away.

You duck out of the shop, pulling your costume from your bag, zooming to a nearby alleyway to change.

Flying out and feeling slightly uncomfortable having to wear your outfit in day hours, you zero in on the snake, its mouth open and elongated to a horrifying degree.

Huffing, you dive down fist first, hitting its centre, diverting its attention to you rather than the escaping civilians.

“I…really don’t have any quips prepared for snakes,” you note, dodging the beast’s tail, before grabbing it, lifting the snake into the air.

Rearing its head around, the snake bares its fangs at you, hissing.

“That’s not going to do anything,” you reply.

You’re quickly proven wrong when a second smaller, but still freakishly large snake exits its mouth as a projectile, causing you to drop it in surprise as you swerve out of the way.

“Oh, what the fuck,” you breathe out.

Sighing, you press a hand to your temple as you realize you now have to deal with two snakes hellbent on destroying the city.

Before you can act, a pink figure and a flying car whiz past you, small explosions distracting the snakes as pink energy pulses and duplicates fill your vision.

You know them. Kind of. Mark follows them on instagram.

Huffing, you swoop down grabbing the larger snake once again by the tail before tossing it high in the sky, flying after it, quickly contorting the snake’s body into a knot as you descend, finally placing it against the shattered road. Watching it writhe uselessly, you feel a bit guilty.

Turning around you notice the second snake is also contained, concrete molded to keep it in place. Definitely the work of Atom Eve, you guess.

You’re grateful your face is covered when the four heroes approach you. You want to go home, but it would be a dick move to just fly away.

The android greets you first, extending a metal hand, “Singularity, we have not met before. I am Robot.”

You shake his hand, “…I’ve heard of you all before. You do good work.”

“Oh! You’re Singularity? I didn’t even realize with the new costume!” Atom Eve blurts out. “It looks good! Sleek and serious…”

She’s young. You already knew they would be because of their team name, but she’s Mark’s age. She looks like a kid to you. You wonder if you looked so young. If you still do.

The red and yellow clad hero at her side, Rexsplode you think, scoffs, “You look like an edgelord, is this, like, your emo phase or something?”

Yes, you think.

“Or something,” you respond.

“Well, you look like you stepped out of Bloodborne—ow!” He’s cut off when Atom Eve punches his arm, “What was that for!?”

“You’re just acting pouty because you can’t stare at her ass anymore!”

Even while wearing his goggles, you could tell his eyes were frantically flickering between you and the pink clad hero.

“Wh-what? No way, why would you even suggest something so—“

“Rex, your following list is public, we all know you follow an account dedicated to zooming in on the asses of female heroes.”

“Ahhh, what? I must have accidentally misclicked—-“

Maybe you should pay whoever runs that account a visit.

“I wouldn’t mind them too much,” The black haired girl speaks up.

“Them arguing is pretty common,” an exact copy of her follows up. Dupli-Kate.

“If you say so,” you blankly say. Are you socializing?

“Still your new costume is a pretty drastic change, I don’t think anymore would be able to link you to being…you,” she continues.

“I do more stealth work these days, the white was too attention catching.” You explain. “And having criminals freeze when do they see me is pretty convenient. Darkwing probably gets a kick out of it too.”

“Heh, I certainly wouldn’t want to run into you in a dark alleyway.”

“Singularity,” Robot begins, “I had been waiting for a opportunity to offer—“

Whatever he says is interrupted when you hear the buzzing of your phone from the alleyway you left your stuff in.

“Sorry, I have to go.” You dash into the alley way, grabbing your bag before shooting into the sky.

(“Ohhh, Robot got rejected!” Rex laughs.

“It is a shame, I had simply wanted to offer her a place on the team.”)

“Finally, what took you so long?” Mark asks, eagerly snatching your bag to root through it before triumphantly retrieving his comic.

“Ran into some people I know,” you sigh, sinking into the couch next to your brother, William who sat on his other side wordlessly passes a controller to you.

“You? Talking to people?” Mark stares at you as William chokes on a laugh.

“They needed directions,” you fib.

“That makes more sense,” he nods.

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who only has one friend,” you scowl.

“She’s got a point,” William grins.

“Well, that’s still one more than you! You literally play Street Fighter and Tekken by yourself all the time! Like at least play online or something,” Mark retorts.

“I,” you start, “have friends.”

A beat of silence passes.

“You’re really good at fighting games,” William consoles you.

“Yeah, you’re the best one here,” Mark places a hand on your shoulder.

“Fuck you, guys…”

(The next day at school, after flying you and Mark a block away from school, you arrive at the entrance and enter the too loud hallway.

“I’ll see you after class, mom said we could order something for dinner tonight, but I was thinking we could maybe go to Seoul or—“

Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of orange hair catches your attention for a moment.

“Hey, are you even listening?” Mark asks, irritated.

You shove him into a locker, “No going overseas.”

“Ah, come on!”)

Bonus:

“There you go, just let yourself float,” your dad praises you, hands holding you up as he hovers miles above the ground. “Don’t be nervous, I won’t let you fall.”

You grip his hands, shakily trying to keep yourself up.

“Pretend you’re a cloud,” he offers, slowly releasing his grip on you, watching proudly as you manage to support yourself. “Alright, now you’re getting it!”

“I’m tired, dad,” you complain, grabbing his outstretched hand, letting yourself rely on him to hold you up.

“Okay, okay, we can go home now,” he chuckles, “I guess you’re too tired to get any ice cream now…”

You perk up, “Well, I’m not that tired…”

“Come on, if you can make half the way by yourself, I’ll get you three scoops,” your dad smiles down at you.

You grin at him excitedly before zooming away.

He only raises an eyebrow. “And suddenly she’s flying like a pro…”

Alright, this was mostly some filler, next post is for the other Marks, and then I’ll get into Oliver and Invincible war stuff, I promise!

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

[flintzoro]

Help a Family in Need

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is facing one of the most challenging times of his life. Mohamad is 37 years old and left his homeland in 2015 in search of a safer and better future. He’s a kind, hardworking man, and his small family has always been his greatest priority.

Living abroad, Mohamad has recently endured unimaginable loss and financial strain. Amidst the ongoing conflict in his homeland, his mother passed away, leaving behind his sister and her five young children—the last remaining members of his immediate family.

As the situation worsened, Mohamad managed to help his sister and her children escape to safety in Egypt, covering their immediate needs and securing a temporary refuge for them. Since then, he has been fully responsible for providing everything they need to survive during this transition.

In his efforts to support his family and cope with this devastating loss, Mohamad has found himself deeply in debt. To make matters even more difficult, he recently underwent knee surgery, which limits his ability to return to work for the foreseeable future. This has made it even harder for him to manage his financial responsibilities and the pressing need to provide his family with a stable future.

Mohamad is now working to bring his sister and her five children to join him in Belgium, where he hopes they can find stability and opportunity after all they’ve endured. This transition, however, requires significant resources that he is currently unable to meet alone.

For privacy reasons, we are not sharing Mohamad’s full name, as he has chosen to keep his identity discreet. While he initially refused the idea of asking for help, I couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle alone. I insisted on doing this for him because he deserves a chance to overcome these challenges.

Your contribution will help Mohamad repay the debt incurred during this difficult time, cover ongoing living expenses for his family, and assist with the costs involved in bringing them safely to Belgium.

Mohamad has been a good friend of mine for years, and I’ve always admired his resilience and generosity. Any support, no matter the size, will make an incredible difference in helping Mohamad and his family rebuild their lives after these painful experiences.

Thank you for reading his story and considering helping a man who has always done everything he can for his loved ones.

Adam

✅ Vetted by Association: @bilal-salah0

Donate & share: Donation Link

[worrywrite]

This is something that speaks to the real and correct way to talk to people of opposing political stands as you. It is never about facts, it is never about studies and what we know, I is never about science, and it is never about God. What it always boils down to is values.

You need to distill down your beliefs into a set of core values and examine what those values mean in regards to your political stance. For instance, you need to asses whether you actually value the lives and experiences of other people, if you value life, if you value equality and equity, and so on. And when someone says something like "I don't know how you can call yourself ____ and vote ____" you need to figure out what it is they value in order to respond. And even more so, you need them to figure out what it is they value, because they usually don't want to say it if they know.

If someone says "how can you call yourself Christian and vote for the party if the gays" (which is a real thing I've heard) a good response might be "I value human life, and gay people are human, and I think they should be alive." And this is a good response because it is simple, straightforward, and if someone challenges it they are automatically facing a very core value to modern civilization. Life is valuable.

And if someone were to to the above statement, you should try and assess where that sentiment is coming from. Usually, it comes from an angle of learned hate that they don't fully understand. Most people are secondhand vectors of hate, at least, sometimes they're even further down the line. Many people don't know what they repeat the talking points they do, they just repeat them because other people who they morally align themselves use those talking points. So when they conflate Christianity with hating gay people, they're saying something about their values. Typically they're repeating these things because they value their standing among their peers, they value their purity in regards to their faith, and they value law over life. The first two are fairly self explanatory, but the last one is the big problem. Law over life is a value expressed by many Americans, they want to trust that the systems they support--whether it be a specific group in the government, the criminal justice system, their church, religion in general, etc.--have the greater good in mind whenever they do anything. This idea of a greater good, a good that supercedes the individual desires and wants and needs, is something they trust other people to decide without really questioning if those other people care. They believe that law, the enforcement of principles by those chosen to carry out the greater good, can supercede the value of any individual life. But they fall short of considering that they are an individual, they have a life that can be undervalued and eliminated or exploited.

And there are even a subset that have thought of this and insist that they wouldn't care if they were killed or similarly ruined by a force for the greater good--after all it would still be a good outcome. And, frankly, I don't know how to respond to those people. I don't know how you can express a value to them that they care about which might supercede their nihilistic viewpoint. If they genuinely think that their death or the death of literally any one person is sufficient to provide the happiness of many more people, I don't know how to express to them that their values undermine the value of life itself.

And it's tricky, because valuing life isn't always the answer. We often feel comfortable drawing lines around who and what we think deserves to exist. There are, indeed, times when the greater good must be considered, but we cannot let the greater good become a default position. Violence which supercedes the right to life (whether that means death or slavery or another condition) should only be considered as a last resort, not the rule of law.

The trickiest part is that they can respond with, "well that's your opinion." And, in truth, they're right. There's no universally acknowledged and objective answer to the question "what is valuable?" Likewise "good" and "morally correct" can be ambiguous at their hearts. And the pitfalls that arise from trying to find these things is where many of us become truly divided. It is also why many I use choose not to look for answers ourselves and instead choose to trust that others have found them.

So when you talk to someone with different values than you, consider what those values actually are and communicate with them based on those values. Look for common values, things you share, and build on those. Ask them whether they also value those things and what valuing those things means to them and why. And once that why has been answered you will know whether that person is someone worth talking to at all.

Might I give some advice:

Not everyone has (or needs to have) the energy to thoughtfully respond to republicans on the Internet. You do not have to do that.

But some people do, and can. And I think we gotta let them.

An example:

I have a former teacher, I'll call her Grace, who is an incredibly kind woman in her 70s. Devout catholic, had voted for various parties over the years, but has been pretty strictly democrat over the past 15-20 because that aligns with her values of kindness and service.

She shared a post about the pope's recent letter and expressed that she agreed with his concerns about how trump is treating immigrants. A friend of hers commented a long paragraph basically saying "dear Grace I care for you but I don't understand how you can be a Christian and a democrat. Blah blah abortion blah blah gender blah blah drugs."

Grace replied "I'm very busy right now but I am going to respond to you soon with my thoughts". When she did it was an incredibly generous, rational monologue that connected with this person's humanity, their shared religious values, and made a beautiful case for why she supports who she does. I didn't agree with a good half of what she said as I am not a Christian, but the result was an expression of values that I think put her on the side of justice and compassion.

The person replied and thanked her and said she had a lot to think about. It was probably the best case scenario for a Facebook politics conversation

You know what came very close to ruining it? A bunch of (mostly younger) people piling on with "fuck you you racist maga pos" and "no one has to explain anything to you, go to hell" etc etc. Even after Grace wrote that she intended to reply herself.

I watched this republican respond to all the easy, quick insults by saying "this is why I don't think any democrats can be Christian, this is how you all speak to me." If Grace hadn't put so much work into writing her response in a way that was tailored to fit this person, I would not be surprised if that person left Facebook doubly certain that Christian nationalism is the way to go.

I'm not saying we can't cuss out jackasses. I'm not saying everyone needs to respond to bad faith arguments like Grace did or use their time like she did.

But this was on Grace's Facebook page, and interrupted the work she already volunteered to do. Just so these individuals could feel like they "did something" and got a shot off at an enemy.

I think that's selfish and childish and unproductive. They could have said anything they wanted in their own space, but they made grace's job harder for no fuckin reason. And then "loved" her reply and said "that was beautiful Grace, thank you for sharing your thoughts"

Like... Buddies. Pals. If someone volunteers to scrub the toilet fucking let them.