#it should be one million hammers instead

[oopsarboreal]

Congratulations! The best character Dr. Trebuchet has hit one million chats!

Celebratorily, the useless lesbian.

WHAT

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

what yall know about my one-sided and irrational beef with trebuchet

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

MILLION REASONS

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe cameron’s fear of love/commitment pushes y/n away—until he realises losing her is far worse. desperate, he finally confesses his feelings and gives her a reason to stay.

based on this ask !! this was so cute but so sad and angsty and i love it :’) thank you for requesting anon and i hope it’s what you asked for <3

(check out my other drew starkey & rafe cameron works here !!)

WARNINGS: angst w/ a fluffy ending, cursing, arguing, rafe & reader crying, rafe literally begging on his knees, angsty love confessions, fears of commitment/love, rafe’s insecurities :((, sad!rafe, mentions of ward (bitch ass). (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

THIRD PERSON +

The soft hum of the cicadas filled the thick summer air as Y/N leaned against Rafe’s porch railing, watching the way the sun melted into the ocean. The evening was warm, carrying the scent of salt and bonfires, but an undeniable chill sat in her chest. She swirled the condensation on her glass of whiskey with her fingertip, gaze drifting toward the open door behind her.

Rafe was inside, slouched on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, but she knew his mind was elsewhere; like it always was.

It had been like this for weeks now. No labels. No real conversations about the future. Just a limbo of stolen moments, soft touches, and nights tangled up together, pretending like nothing outside their little world existed. But that wasn’t enough, not anymore.

Y/N took a deep breath and turned back toward him, stepping inside. “Hey,” she said softly, standing by the couch.

Rafe glanced up, his blue eyes flickering with something unreadable before he set his phone down. “Hey.”

She hesitated for a second, then sat beside him, close enough that their knees brushed. “I got a call today,” she started, her voice carefully neutral. “About a job.”

Rafe nodded, waiting for her to continue, but there was something stiff in his posture, something defensive.

“It’s the one I told you about. The uh, the one in Florida,” she continued, watching him closely. “They offered it to me.”

There it was. The slight shift in his expression. It was subtle—just a flicker of something in his eyes, the faintest tightening of his jaw—but she caught it.

“That’s… great,” he said after a moment, voice measured. “You worked your ass off for that.”

A part of her deflated at the way he said it. Like it was any other piece of news. Like it didn’t affect him at all. She fought the urge to look away, to retreat. Instead, she pushed forward, just a little.

“Yeah,” she murmured, fingers tracing the hem of her shorts. “It’s just… if I take it, I’d have to move.” She glanced up at him, searching for something—anything—in his expression. “I don’t know if I want to leave the Outer Banks. Not if I have a reason to stay.”

Rafe’s stomach twisted violently. His grip on his thigh tightened as his breathing shallowed. This was it—the moment he should tell her that he was her reason. That the thought of her leaving made his chest ache in a way he didn’t understand. That he had never let anyone in before, but he wanted to try for her.

But instead, panic took hold.

“Then you should take it,” he said too quickly, too flatly.

Y/N stilled. Her heart dropped to her stomach, fingers curling into her palm as she forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat.

“Right,” she said quietly, nodding. “Yeah. I guess I should.”

Rafe saw it—the way her expression flickered with something broken before she schooled it into indifference. He wanted to reach for her, to take it back, but the words caught in his throat like razor blades.

She stood abruptly, brushing imaginary dust from her jeans. “I should go.”

His pulse hammered. Say something. Tell her to stay. Tell her she’s the only thing that makes you feel sane.

But his lips stayed sealed.

Y/N lingered for just a second, almost like she was waiting for him to stop her. When he didn’t, she nodded to herself, jaw clenching.

“See you around, Rafe,” she murmured before turning on her heel.

He didn’t move. He just sat there, listening to the sound of the front door opening and closing behind her.

—

The second Y/N slid into her car, the first tear fell. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles went white, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

She had been stupid to hope.

She wiped at her cheeks angrily, but the tears kept coming. She had given him the chance—the opportunity to prove he cared, to show her that this thing between them meant something to him.

And he let her go.

The sob broke free before she could swallow it down, her forehead dropping against the steering wheel as her whole body shook. She had been so sure there was something real there, but maybe it had all been in her head. Maybe Rafe Cameron would never let anyone truly see him.

And maybe, she thought bitterly, she had just been another passing moment in his life.

With a shaky breath, she turned the key in the ignition.

She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew one thing for sure.

She wasn’t staying.

—

The days that followed Y/N’s departure from his house were nothing short of agonizing for Rafe. Every second that passed was filled with an unbearable weight pressing against his chest, suffocating him with regret.

He couldn’t eat. Could barely sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her walking away, saw the way her face crumbled right before she masked it with indifference.

It killed him.

He had been a coward.

Instead of telling her what she meant to him, he had let fear make the decision for him. He had let her leave, had given her permission to move on, all because he was terrified of what it meant to let her in—to truly let her see him.

The thought of her leaving the Outer Banks, of being in a different state, living a life where he wasn’t by her side, was unbearable.

And yet, he had told her to go.

Rafe’s hands shook as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the floor. He could feel the panic creeping up again, clawing at his throat. The same panic he had felt when she told him about the job offer, when he realised he could lose her.

Only now, it wasn’t just a fear. It was a reality.

She was leaving.

And it was all his fault.

—

Y/N wiped at her cheek in frustration as she stacked another empty box against the wall of her bedroom.

Packing up her life in the Outer Banks wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.

Or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

She had spent the last few days trying to distract herself—throwing herself into preparations, making lists, telling herself that this was an exciting new chapter.

But no matter what she did, her thoughts always drifted back to him.

To Rafe.

To the way he had just let her walk away.

To the way he hadn’t fought for her.

To the way she had given him the chance to stop her, and he hadn’t taken it.

He’d given her a million reasons to walk away, but all she needed was just one good one to stay—him.

A shaky breath left her lips as she sat on the floor, knees tucked to her chest as her eyes scanned the boxes scattered around her living room. She was so tired of crying over him, but her heart had other plans.

A loud knock at the door startled her.

Her brows furrowed as she stood, wiping at her face before making her way toward the front entrance. It was late. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

When she opened the door, the breath in her lungs vanished.

Rafe.

Standing in the pouring rain, his hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, his clothes drenched, his chest heaving.

But it wasn’t just that.

It was his expression.

He looked… broken.

His blue eyes, usually sharp and filled with some sort of cocky confidence, were desperate. Red-rimmed and filled with emotions she had never seen so plainly on him before.

“Don’t go,” Rafe rasped. His voice was raw, like he had been screaming, like he had been drowning.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening against the doorknob.

“What?” she whispered.

“Don’t go,” he repeated, stepping forward, eyes pleading. “Please.”

Confusion and frustration twisted inside her. “Rafe, you told me to take the job.”

“I know,” he choked out. His jaw clenched, his hands trembling at his sides. “I know, and it was the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to change your mind now that it’s too late.”

“It’s not too late,” Rafe said quickly, stepping closer. “Not if you stay.”

Y/N stared at him, anger bubbling beneath her skin. “Why, Rafe?” she challenged. “Why should I stay?”

He exhaled sharply, his fingers running through his wet hair. He was shaking, the rain dripping from his clothes, but he didn’t care.

“Because,” his voice cracked, “I love you.”

Y/N’s heart stopped.

He sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly as more words spilled from his lips.

“I love you, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that scares the absolute shit out of me.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Rafe let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Do you know how fucked up I am?” he asked, eyes glistening. “I don’t know how to love someone. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. My father never showed me how. After my mom died, everything just—” He exhaled sharply, clenching his jaw. “I’ve spent my whole life thinking that letting someone in was just setting myself up for disappointment.”

He took another step toward her, voice thick with emotion.

“But then you came along,” he whispered, his eyes softening. “And for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I had to hide. For the first time, I had something good—someone good.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away.

“And I was too much of a coward to tell you.”

Y/N’s own vision blurred as she stared at him, her whole body trembling.

Rafe sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to,” he said desperately, his voice cracking. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just please don’t leave me.”

And then he did it.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands gripping the fabric of her sweatshirt like a man grasping onto the only thing keeping him from drowning.

“Please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t lose you. You’re the only thing in my life that makes sense. You’re the only thing that’s ever felt real.”

Y/N let out a quiet sob, her hands coming up to cup his face.

“You are not your father, Rafe,” she whispered through her own tears. “You are capable of love. It doesn’t have to be scary. It can be—beautiful.”

Rafe sucked in a sharp breath, his hands tightening around her like she might disappear at any second.

Y/N swallowed, her thumb brushing over his cheek. “I love you too.”

A quiet, broken sob left his lips as he pressed his forehead against her stomach, gripping onto her like she was his lifeline.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “I was so fucking scared.”

Y/N cradled him, running her fingers through his soaked hair. “I know,” she murmured. “But I’m here. I’m right here.”

And for the first time in his life, Rafe Cameron let himself believe that he was worthy of love.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such a cute one :’) i’m a sucker for angst with happy endings !! also soft!rafe is my absolute favourite, like him LITERALLY begging on his knees for a girl is so attractive😫

anyways i’m editing all the fics i’ve roughly written from requests that are like two weeks old, hence why i’m pumping out so many fics atm !! one request was like a month old and i felt HORRIBLE but i’m getting them all out now and i appreciate everyone’s patience <3

[solxamber]

Hi there! For the valentines event can I request Ace with romantic implications with the song "30 Second Love Story" by PEGGY with inspired by these specific lyrics? "There are millions of people, and millions of lifetimes And maybe in one of them, I found my voice And I told you I liked you, and then came for coffee In five years we're married, a house and a family" I know you said you are getting a lot of Ace requests but the brain rot is real if you're getting Ace-fatigue you can go with Sebek instead!

"I spent my whole life in a moment with you" || Ace Trappola

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 30 Second Love Story by PEGGY

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 890

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Pining, Confessions

Ace is in love with you.

Painfully, irreversibly, hopelessly in love with you.

It hits him in flashes, in moments so ordinary they shouldn't feel life-changing—but they do. Like when you pass him a drink without him asking, already knowing what he likes. Like when you shoot him a grin after winning a game against him, smug and shining. Like when you nudge him with your shoulder while walking side by side, laughing, your warmth so close yet so far.

It happens when you hold his hand casually, fingers laced without a second thought, as if you don’t notice the way his heart hammers against his ribs. It happens when you lean into him during a movie, your weight comfortable and trusting, completely unaware that his pulse is racing.

He thinks about a future where this is normal—not just fleeting touches and teasing words, but something real. Something that lasts.

Mornings where he wakes up to you tangled in his sheets, sunlight catching in your hair. Breakfasts where he sneaks up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as you make coffee, pressing his face into the crook of your neck just to hear you laugh.

Lazy afternoons spent wrapped in each other on the couch, sharing popcorn and complaints about a bad movie. Evenings where he watches you from across the dinner table and still thinks, Damn, I love you.

A life with you. A future where he’s yours, and you’re his.

He dreams about it more than he should, and every time, he tells himself to stop.

He can’t ruin this. You’re his best friend. If he messes up—if he confesses and you don’t feel the same—then what? He’d lose everything.

So he stays quiet, keeps it locked inside his chest, lets himself drown in his own longing.

Until the day he doesn’t.

It’s a golden afternoon, the kind where the sun paints everything in its soft warmth, and you’re sitting next to him, talking animatedly about something—Ace isn’t even sure what, because all he can focus on is you.

The way your eyes light up when you get excited. The way your hand moves, expressive and unguarded. The way your fingers are wrapped around his, absently squeezing like it’s second nature.

And that’s when it happens.

His heart stutters, skips a beat, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

Why is he waiting? Why is he so scared?

You are his best friend. The one who laughs at his stupid jokes. The one who sticks by him even when he’s being a pain in the ass. The one who makes life better just by existing in it.

How could he not love you?

And how could he keep pretending that he doesn’t?

Before he can think, before doubt can creep in, he moves.

His free hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek gently. You blink at him, startled, lips parting—ready to ask something, maybe—but he doesn’t give you the chance.

He leans in and kisses you.

It’s soft at first, tentative, his breath catching as he waits for you to pull away. But you don’t. You freeze for only a second before melting into him, fingers tightening around his.

The moment you respond—when your lips move against his, when you kiss him back with just as much warmth—it feels like something inside him clicks into place.

He’s never believed in fate, but this—this feels damn close to it.

When he pulls back, his heart is pounding, his stomach twisting in nervous anticipation. But the way you look at him, stunned and breathless and smiling—it’s everything he needs.

You don’t say anything. You just squeeze his hand, as if to say, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

And that’s all he needs to know.

Ace wakes up to the weight of you in his arms.

Sunlight filters through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the sheets, and he takes a moment to just—breathe. It's been five years, and he still can't believe this is real.

Your head is tucked beneath his chin, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. Your warmth is familiar now, expected, like it’s always meant to be there.

He shifts slightly, his fingers tracing absent patterns along your back, and you stir with a sleepy hum.

“Mm… Ace?” Your voice is drowsy, muffled against his chest.

“Morning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You tilt your face up to look at him, eyes still heavy with sleep, and he thinks, I’ll never get tired of this.

Never get tired of the way your nose scrunches slightly when you wake up. Never get tired of how soft you are against him, how safe you make him feel. Never get tired of the matching rings on your fingers, the quiet proof of the promise you made to each other.

“Five more minutes,” you mumble, nuzzling into him.

Ace huffs a laugh. “You say that every morning."

“And yet, I still get five more minutes every time.”

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair.

This is it.

The life he dreamed of—the one he was once too scared to reach for—is now his reality.

And as he kisses you awake, slow and sweet, he knows he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[zeroseuniverse]

Heart On Fire

Word Count: 1K Summary:You scowled. “It’s just a little smoke.” “‘Just a little smoke’ is how half the fire calls I respond to start.” Pairing:Johnny X Reader

Taglist: @sh0dor1

Navigation

The first time you met Johnny Suh, you thought he was a burglar.

To be fair, it was past midnight, and the last thing you expected while trying to air out your smoke-filled apartment was for a 6’0-something man to appear at your door, shirt slightly damp with sweat, gray sweats hanging low on his hips. His hair was messy, like he had just rolled out of bed—but instead of sleep in his eyes, there was amusement.

“You know, most people try not to burn their apartment down within the first month of moving in,” he teased, leaning against your doorframe.

You scowled. “It’s just a little smoke.”

“‘Just a little smoke’ is how half the fire calls I respond to start.”

And that’s how you learned Johnny was not, in fact, a burglar, but a firefighter who lived in the unit next door. He helped you turn off the alarm and even gave you a few pointers on how not to set off the smoke detector while cooking.

That should’ve been the end of it, just a one-time neighborly encounter, but Johnny was… impossible to ignore.

He checked in on you more than necessary, always teasing about your “arsonist tendencies” but never failing to bring you a fresh meal when he knew you had been too busy to cook. He even invited you to his firehouse once, showing you around like an excited kid, letting you sit in the truck while explaining how everything worked.

And maybe, just maybe, your heart started burning for him before you even realized it.

You were barely asleep when the smell of smoke hit you.

At first, you thought it was a dream, the hazy feeling of warmth clinging to your skin, but then you heard it—the distant wail of fire alarms, followed by the unmistakable sound of people shouting.

Your heart slammed against your ribs as you threw off your blankets, stumbling toward the door. The hallway was already filling with smoke, curling under the fluorescents like a living thing.

Panic clawed up your throat.

Stay low. Find the exit.

Johnny had drilled it into your head a million times, and for once, you actually listened to his advice, dropping to your knees and crawling toward the stairs. But before you could reach them, a strong hand grabbed your arm, yanking you back.

“Oh Thank God!”

Johnny.

Relief crashed into you at the sound of his voice, but before you could say anything, he was already checking you over, eyes scanning for any sign of injury. He was in full gear—helmet, turnout coat, the heavy-duty gloves that made his hands feel too large as they cupped your face.

“You okay?” His voice was tight, worry evident even through the chaos around you.

You nodded. “Yeah, just—what’s happening?”

“Small kitchen fire on the third floor. We’ve got it under control, but the smoke’s spreading fast. We need to get you out.”

You barely had time to react before Johnny was lifting you into his arms like it was nothing, holding you close as he carried you through the hallway. You knew you should argue—your legs worked just fine—but with the smoke thickening around you, you clung to him instead, pressing your face against his shoulder.

Outside, the night air was a sharp contrast to the heat you had just escaped. Johnny set you down gently on the pavement, crouching to your level as you sucked in gulps of fresh air.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re safe.”

Your heart was still hammering, but for an entirely different reason now.

Johnny had always been larger than life to you—charming, a little too cocky, but endlessly kind. And now, looking at him with the firelight reflecting in his eyes, you realized something else:

You were completely, hopelessly in love with him.

After that night, something changed.

Johnny checked on you even more, but it wasn’t just playful teasing anymore. There was a tension between you, something simmering beneath the surface whenever he brushed too close or when his hand lingered on your back a second too long.

You felt it the most when he showed up at your door one evening, fresh from his shift, hair still damp from a quick shower at the station.

“You good?” he asked, handing you a takeout bag. “Figured you might still be a little shaken up.”

You rolled your eyes but took the food anyway. “I’m fine, Johnny. You don’t have to keep babying me.”

“I don’t ‘baby’ you.”

“You literally carried me out of a burning building.”

“Okay, but that was different.”

“How?”

Johnny hesitated. For the first time since you’d met him, he looked unsure of what to say. His fingers twitched at his sides before he finally exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“Because it was you.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

Johnny scoffed like he couldn’t believe he was about to say this out loud. “You think I’d have reacted the same if it was anyone else? I was terrified. The thought of something happening to you—” He cut himself off, jaw clenched. “It messed me up.”

Your heart was beating so fast it hurt.

“Johnny—”

“I like you,” he admitted, finally looking at you. “I think I have for a while. But after that night, I realized—if something had happened to you, and I never told you—” He shook his head. “I couldn’t live with that.”

For a moment, you just stared at him.

Then, without thinking, you surged forward, gripping the collar of his jacket and pulling him down into a kiss.

Johnny barely had time to react before his arms were around you, holding you against him like you might disappear. He tasted like coffee and something distinctly him, warm and familiar.

When you finally pulled back, he was grinning. “That means you like me back, right?”

You laughed, breathless. “Yes, you idiot.”

“Good,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “Because I really, really want to keep saving you.”

You smirked. “Well, if it means more kisses, I might start setting off my smoke alarm on purpose.”

Johnny groaned. “Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?”

But when he kissed you again, you were pretty sure he didn’t mind one bit.

[sourszt]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 | somnophilia + captive

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — homelander x fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, somnophilia, captive, non-con SLIGHTLY turned dub-con, stalking, reader is part of the boys, fuck or die basically, breaking & entering, fingering, slight pregnancy kink, oral (f!receiving), slight dacryphilia, lmk if i missed anything !

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — this is very dark please read with caution!! if you don’t think you will like or be able to handle this, PLEASE do not read i will not be upset !! but homelander is an asshole so unfortunately this isn’t really ooc. not proofread!

he should hate you. he knew he should.

staring at your face on the meeting room screen, captured on a shitty blue-tinted doorbell camera. after weeks of searching, he finally found out who you were. working with the very people who had not only killed his indestructible colleague and coworker and trying to damage his image, he had to admit you were a slippery thing.

not anymore.

now he knew what you looked like, it was time to show you hell on earth. he was the fucking homelander and you of all people should know that. you’d seen the side of him that millions couldn’t. he could kill you in a heartbeat for what you’d done. for what you knew.

in a handful of different ways, too. he could let his lasers seep into your eyes and melt your brain into liquid, he could rip you limb from limb with his bare hands, he could tear your heart clean from your chest and have your disembodied head watch it slow to a stop before he drove a hammer into your skull.

but as he stared at your photo, something in his heart told him that he’d be doing none of that to you. at least, not yet.

his bright blue eyes narrowed at the screen he so desperately wanted to shatter with his fist. he tucked his hands underneath his cape behind his back to keep him from doing so — madelyn would have his fucking head.

he instead examined every single one of your visible features, embedding them in his mind so that he would never forget them. and very soon, you would do the same.

—

sleep didn’t come easy for you that night.

your day had been unreasonably long and stressful, and you found you were still processing the events when you clambered into bed hours after you reached home. which was another thing in itself.

the boys were getting too trusting with their secrets and recently they had roped in another supe: mesmer. some washed up d-lister who was still milking his childhood fame at failing conventions full of millennials and up.

that encounter had gone to shit thanks to kimiko, as you learned that girl’s name was. butcher nearly had everybody’s asses when he realized you’d gone behind his back but settled the matter with a few colorful words.

but you were still scared getting into bed. somebody else had information on you that could likely kill you. you didn’t entirely trust that mesmer wasn’t willing to sell all of you guys out for a few extra minutes of stardom. your house felt much bigger lately ever since starting this mission with butcher. every shadowy corner felt like there was a demon lurking within it.

like something was waiting for you to fall asleep.

even after you managed to shake that uneasiness off and drift off into a deep slumber, you failed to notice the two eyes watching you through the window just a few feet away.

honestly, homelander had been watching you since you first got home. he’d remained undetected as you ventured through your house: rest, dinner, shower, — he had to admit that he watched you a little too intently during this step — and finally sleep.

you had to be an idiot. how could you not realize that the homelander was so close to you? that he knew who you were already?

and god, how easy it was to get into your house. all he had to do was melt the fucking lock to your back door and make his way through each room — he already knew the layout quite well — before landing at the foot of your bed.

he must have stood there for half an hour just watching you toss and turn, hum and whimper like you were having an rocky dream. part of him was deciding what to do to you. the other part already knew.

he slipped one of his gloves off, and then the other, gently placing them on your nightstand beside your phone. he pinched the edge of your comforter and threw it off of you and onto the floor. your body reacted to the sudden change in temperature, writhing around a little.

he waited another few minutes before touching you. he wanted to decide where to start. first, he brushed your slightly tangled hair out of your face with precision, wanting to see your face up close. the last time he saw it was earlier that day on the monitor in the meeting room.

this was much better than that.

then he straightened out all of the wrinkles in your oversized pajama top, taking a quick peek at your panties underneath. he watched you slide them on earlier. a delicate pair of lacy wine red ones. his cock twitched in his pants at the thought of taking them off of your unconscious body. not even knowing until you woke up.

he tested you out by grabbing one of your tits through your shirt. you didn’t react. not until he started kneading it, pinching at and circling your nipple until it poked out from under the fabric. then your head rolled to the other side with furrowed brows and a soft, pouty whine left you.

homelander actually fought back a curse when he realized how hard he was. it was getting more and more difficult for him to take his time with you. so he didn’t.

you were still sound asleep when the bed dipped to accommodate his weight, and creaked as he positioned himself right over you. he could smell your shampoo. it smelled like the one that maeve used. probably a cheaper alternative, but still.

his hands came up to the hem of your shirt, this time slowly inching it up until he could see your tits. they looked unbelievably good like this. he toyed with them for a while, restraining himself from latching onto one of your nipples. not yet.

for a fleeting second he thought about getting you pregnant — if he was even able to. what you’d look like with a big belly that carried his child and swollen tits that were full just for him.

homelander had to squeeze his eyes shut or else he would’ve come untouched.

he dragged the tips of his fingers down the curves of your waist, then your hips, noting the way your steady breathing was suddenly distorted. your torso twisted like you were ticklish, but he held you firmly in place. he risked waking you up with the force of his grasp alone, but by some miracle you remained asleep.

you picked such a dangerous profession for a deep sleeper.

he shifted down to the foot of your bed, sliding off of the edge to get a good look at your pussy. the lace hugged you perfectly, and it left nothing to the imagination. he couldn’t resist using them for a little while. his thumb found your clit through the thin layer, humming when your thighs instinctively parted wider for more.

“slut.” he whispered.

a broken whimper pulled from your throat in your slumber, prompting him to pick up his pace. his other hand forced your leg up before he dragged the flat of his tongue up your clothed cunt. you were getting wetter. he could smell it.

his eyes rolled back at your almost sweet scent, the hand that held your leg quickly moving to palm his cock through the pants of his suit. he continued to eat your cunt through your soaked panties until he was nearly about to come in his trousers. then he decided he’d had more than enough fun.

you were a mess in your sleep. constantly moaning and whining, hips gently bucking up into his hand. it was only a matter of time until you woke up.

so he pulled your panties off of you and went to unbutton his pants, wrapping the soiled fabric around his stiff cock. he fought back a particularly loud groan as he returned between your legs. he draped one of your legs over his shoulders and ducked down to taste you.

really taste you.

his tongue dipped past your wet folds and into your cunt, pulling a choked cry from you. even in your sleep your hips rolled up into his face, like you were begging for more.

somehow it was better than he anticipated. how impossibly sweet you were, how your sleeping body reacted to him. and the noises you made for him. because of him. he groaned softly against your pussy, the vibrations making you whine.

it wasn’t long until the stimulation became too much to bare, your eyelids beginning to lift as you woke up. the only thing you could register was the warm, thick tongue violating your cunt at a blinding pace. your senses were instantly forced into overdrive and you weakly tried to shift yourself upright.

but a hand much larger and stronger than yours stopped you. fingers dug into your skin in a bruising grip, and a low voice shattered the silence. “move and i’ll fucking kill you.”

you instantly recognized who it belonged to and your blood ran cold. you heeded his stern warning and lowered your gaze to see homelander’s face tucked between your thighs. the sight alone made tears well in your eyes and frantic pleas begin to tumble from your trembling lips.

“please, don’t.” your body was frozen with shock, only tensing when his deep void-like pupils started to glow red.

he released the side of your waist only to swipe at his chin that you saw was shining with your slick. the sight was horrifyingly obscene and you couldn’t hold back the low, shaky whimper it drew from you. you watched his face subtly twitch with realization and his smile grew, his sharp canines poking out.

he held your gaze as he dragged two of his fingers up your slit, humming when he felt how much more wet you’d gotten. your eyes screwed shut when he slid those fingers inside of you to the knuckles without warning. you struggled to keep your body still, fearing that any sudden movement would set him off.

“if you really wanted me to stop, you wouldn’t be so fucking wet.” he curled his fingers and your head fell back into your pillow. “look at me.” he snapped through clenched teeth. he removed his fingers, leaving you empty and wanting more.

you hardly had a choice. his cold blue eyes brought goosebumps to your skin when you found them again. you felt beyond exposed — beyond violated — but something deep inside of you ached for release. in your sleep, his rather skillful ministrations translated into a sensual dream and you were building to your climax when you woke up. you knew he wasn’t going to kill you.

at least, not until he was finished with you. you had very little to lose at that point. so you slowly parted your legs and draped one more comfortably over his shoulder. the gold plated eagles on his suit dug into the undersides of your thigh but you didn’t mind. you kept your movements slow, well aware that he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of you if he thought you were stepping out of line.

he understood your silent plea, one that your voice wouldn’t allow. “atta girl.” he murmured before pressing a kiss to the spot just below your belly button. you watched him go lower, his warm breath teasing your cunt.

you weren’t sure if you were allowed to speak yet so you endured his cruel treatment until he finally granted you relief. your back instinctively arched when his mouth finally closed around your core. his tongue lapped at you, observing your responses. now that you were awake, he could see your body really writhe.

your head rolled back with a pitchy, dragged out moan and you grasped at your sheets for some kind of leverage when his warm tongue penetrated you. your hips bucked up into his slow strokes and he groaned against you.

“oh, fuck,” the curse came out strained. you could feel the tip of his nose poking at your sensitive clit.

your body reacted like it typically would and before you could even consider it, your hand flew to his hair. his eyes narrowed at you and his pace faltered for only a split second. the contact was unexpected, but he knew you weren’t making a move to even attempt to hurt him.

your fingers raked through his blond hair and traced down the side of his face. “g—good, feels so good.” you were hardly coherent, but something about your wild urgency made something in homelander’s stomach tighten. “so fuckin’ good, my good boy,” he’d been working his cock with your panties wrapped around it and suddenly he lost his rhythm.

you were visibly mindless by that point, nearly at your breaking point. but he couldn’t deny how much your slurred rambles were working him up. he continued to eat your cunt with a newfound vigor, moaning every time your fingers gently tugged at his hair.

he knew you were nearly there when you clenched around his tongue. you finally came with a strained cry when his lips wrapped around your clit. it was like a brick wall had hit you at full force. he came quickly after, releasing into the lacy fabric of your underwear.

it took you a moment to ride it out, your hand falling from his hair while you tried to steady your spinning head. panic seeped in the moment your heartbeat returned to normal and you looked down at the man still perched between your legs.

he was already staring at you with a blank expression like he was considering his options for you. what felt like forever passed when he started to wipe at his grinning mouth. a grin that gave you chills.

“the fuck am i gonna do with you, huh?” he asked rhetorically, laughing bitterly. he rose to his feet, suddenly towering over your limp form. “i could take you right now. fuck you dry and kill you. i could take you all for myself so i could be the only one who fucks that sweet pussy. nobody would know where to start looking. or i could let you go and let the paranoia do the rest.”

he rounded your bed to stand beside you. you were too overcome with fear to move, let alone really process his words. “i’m the fucking homelander, you stupid slut. don’t forget that.” he reclaimed his gloves that rested on the bedside table and left.

you were left in an eerie silence. you knew he would be back for you. you just didn’t know when.

i dont even have any afterwords ngl 😭

[fairy-writes]

MERCY

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Trigun Stampede

Pairing(s): Vash the Stampede x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Pre-Canon, Established Relationships, Possible OOCness with Vash but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head

Notes: I HAVEN’T DONE THIS IN A WHILE

BUT CATCH MY DOCTOR WHO QUOTES

__________________________________________________________________________

It wasn’t often that you saw Vash angry.

In fact, in all the time you’d known him, you never remembered him actually getting angry. Irritated? Sure, but never like… this. 

Three days was enough to wear down the Humanoid Typhoon. 

It should have been simple: just keep your heads down and let the bandits currently hunting for Vash’s bounty pass on through the little town. 

It seemed easy enough. You’d done this a million times. You were practically pros! What would change now?

Oh, how you wished you could take those words back. 

“Vash, stop!” You plead and cry and tug at Vash’s coat as you try to keep him from shooting the man in front of him. He grits his teeth, but that doesn’t stop his finger from curling around the trigger. 

“I’m done negotiating.” He snaps, and you flinch back as if struck across the face. 

“We can talk this out! Just like you do every time! Vash, please!”

He rounds on you, keeping the gun pointed at the bandit.

“Every time I negotiate, every time I try to understand. Well, not today. No. Today, I honor the victims first. His, Nai’s, the humans, all the people who died because of MY mercy!”

Right…

The people who died. 

You can still hear a mother wailing for her dead child behind you, cradling his limp corpse in her arms as she begged whoever was listening to bring her baby back to her. 

You could tell Vash heard it too, because he ground his teeth together even more. His thumb pulled the hammer back on his gun, and he stepped closer to press the barrel to the bandit’s forehead.

The aforementioned bandit was shaking in his boots. His knees knocked together, and sweat dripped down his brow. His own gun had been batted away after shooting at Vash and you. Luckily, the bullets had lodged in Vash’s prosthetic arm instead of flesh. The arm itself was fine, if not sparking a little.

But that didn’t matter.

“Vash,” You began, slowly, calmly, like trying to calm a spooked animal. Vash turned to look at you, and you weren’t surprised to see tears starting to prick his eyes. 

He had always been the emotional one.

“Please, put the gun down. Have some mercy, and we can talk this out.” You tried, and his following words made your blood run cold.

“I’m so old now. I used to have so much mercy. But not anymore.” He snarled, and you flinched back. 

This wasn’t the Vash you knew and loved

What had happened to him?

One of the townsfolk stepped forward,

“Mr. Typhoon… Please. Put the gun down. We will arrest the bandit and hold him until the police can arrive. you’re scaring your love.” She said, and those words snapped Vash out of his violent stupor. He looked at you with new eyes, heartbroken and horrified.

You couldn’t stop him as he stepped away and fled,

You found him in the desert of No Man’s Land two days later.

Two days. Two days of relentless searching. Two days of worrying. Two days of Vash obviously beating himself up over everything. The bandit was apprehended, as was his little posse of criminals. So you were able to search for Vash safely.

You found him in a cave, bits of his arm strewn about as he tried to get the bullets unstuck. He was muttering and cursing under his breath, eventually throwing the tool in his hand toward the mouth of the cave where you stood.

You picked up the tool and approached him, kneeling by where he sat cross-legged and offering the tool.

“How’d you find me?” He said bitterly, and you offered a small smile,

“I know you.” You mumbled, and he scoffed,

“Apparently not. I’m turning into Nai. Merciless. Cold. And—”

“You aren’t. Your reign of terror would end at the sight of the first crying child, and you know it.” You cut him off gently, and he looked up at you, something glimmering in his eyes. You took that as an invitation to scoot closer, crossing your legs as you went. Your knee brushed his, and you could practically feel him shudder at the contact.

But you didn't comment on it.

You just used the tool to dislodge the bullets smashed into his arm and palm of his hand. You were gentle, not at all like he was moments ago. Soon enough, his arm was pieced back together, and he gripped your hand as you went to stand.

“Where are you going?” He asked, practically pleading with you to stay.

“Just getting my pack. I left it outside.” You said, and he sagged in relief.

He must’ve been lonely in those two days he was apart from you.

That night, you sat by the fire you built and tossed branches from debris into the fire. Vash sat next to you, his flesh hand on your thigh and his head on your shoulder. You let him have this. This sense of normalcy. This sense of love that you tried to build around him. 

Because he deserved that much. 

It wasn’t long before he turned to nose your neck, pressing a fleeting kiss there. You shivered and felt him smile against your skin.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” He whispered eventually. You hummed,

“I forgive you… Just… Try not to do it again, okay?” You replied, and he pecked your cheek before squeezing your thigh.

“I promise.”

[leclercsbunny]

still writing pages ♡ c. leclerc

part one ♡ masterlist

summary: he left you at the altar on your wedding day three years ago... and you found out later you weren't the only one.

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername back in monaco🌞🍃🫶

danielricciardo yesssss !! now we can brunch everyday instead of once if i catch you free time <3

yourusername bottomless mimosas it is🥂

danielricciardo can't wait :)

maxverstappen1 actually running and not walking

maxverstappen1 i hope you have actual food in your house because i'm starving

yourusername ???

yourusername i should be asking to have dinner in yours because i just moved !!

susie_wolff good for you sweetheart😘

yourusername will miss you !!

charles squinted, not quite believing his eyes; he wasn't totally certain that his vision weren't playing some twisted trick on him. he hasn't slept properly, and he wasn't all that sober either. still reeling from the wild night which had become a tradition of sorts during the summer break.

he was sure it was you. your graceful silhouette still haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. the guilt still creeped in his bones, it still made him cringe with dread and regret. he couldn't possibly forget the woman he's done so painfully wrong by.

you were laughing, brown hair falling gracefully on your shoulders, eyes bright with amusement as you bask in the attention of the man infront of you.

despite himself, charles felt his chest tighten.

he's thought of a million ways when he'd meet you again, replaying different scenarios all over his head when he couldn't sleep at night and only the thought of you to accompany him.

charles thought he'd fall to his knees and beg you for forgiveness. he knew he'd cry, he knew that he'd take whatever hurtful words or hits you'd give him.

he abandoned you on the day he was supposed to promise you forever. and there was no right or even enough explanation for it. he'd carry that sin for the rest of his life.

charles took a hesitant step to reach you, heart hammering on his chest.

“maman!” a childish yelp came out from nowhere, and a toddler, barely reaching his knees came running to you.

your face lit up, opening your arms to the little girl who's ocean eyes he could spot anywhere.

charles physically felt all breath leave his lungs, a faint ringing echoing in his ear. he felt weak. scared. shaky. he felt it impossible to hold himself together, and he's barely managed to hold onto a seat to refrain from falling on his face.

fuck. he was irrevocably fucked.

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername our first date night in monaco🩷

maxverstappen1 great dinner with you guys !!

danielricciardo and nobody freaking called me !? traitors !!

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part XIII

Word count: 3100+

Warnings: mentions of blood/wounds

Autumn themed divider by tsunami-of-tears

Part XII

You were floating through the darkness, feeling empty, at peace. You didn't know who you were, how you got there or what your purpose was. You didn't care even about how much time had passed since you found yourself in this strange space. It was so liberating to just exist here.

A small tug disturbed your peace and you frowned. It wasn't quite unpleasant, rather unsettling. As if you should already be somewhere else. As if there was someone awaiting for you. You felt it again somewhere under your ribs, pulling you. But where?

Opening heavy eyelids, you looked around. Like stars on a night sky, millions of small lights shone around you. Their soft light shushed all restlessness, lulling you yet into another peaceful slumber. Except, it reminded you of something you should know. Something really important.

"Y/N.."

An echo of male's voice was bouncing in the emptiness, deep and soft, pleading and broken. There was so much pain in it that tears stung your eyes. Who was the male and who was Y/N? You sighed, your peace all gone now.

"Y/N.."

An image of a red-haired male with beautiful eyes flashed in your mind. Could it be his voice?

Sighing through nose you reached out, trying to touch one of those lovely lights, but it was too far. Instead, a cold air rushed between your fingers. It was refreshing, like dipping hand into a crystal clear mountain stream on a hot day. It put a smile on your face.

You felt it then. An urge. An unfinished business you meant to finish. It instantly wiped the smile off your face. Could it have anything to do with him? For some reason you wanted to see him again, so you fished in memories that a while ago you didn't even know you had. Another image of him popped up, this one clearer than the previous one.

A blazing amber eyes were piercing you with genuine interest, wolfish grin on his slightly parted lips. His expression was wild, beautiful and kind of dangerous. He was mesmerising.

Your heart started hammering painfully fast, your breath became laboured. You wanted to touch him, to be close to him so much that it physically hurt.

Eris

That name came from nowhere yet you knew it belonged to him. To your Eris.

A presence of something powerful filled the space and the hair all over your body stood up. The lights flickered and went out one by one. You stiffened as shiver ran down your spine, cautiously looking around, but there was nobody with you here.

"Your time has not yet come, child," soft female voice spoke and you felt something warm caressing your face, wiping away your tears. "Go back and live the life that was meant for you from the very beginning."

The presence disappeared as suddenly and without warning as it appeared and you were once again alone.

You felt another tug and this time decided to follow it. It dragged you into a wind tunnel, spinning you so fast that it took your breath away. It took only a few seconds. With whoosh you landed and sharply inhaling opened eyes.

The bright light blinded you for a moment and you blinked.

"Y/N," a deep voice sighed with relief. It was so hoarse as if he spent hours shouting. Even without seeing it, you knew that he was crying.

You couldn't move, hardly breathing. As all your senses started waking up, you realised that a warm hand was touching your face all this time, caressing you. It was so soothing that you wanted to just close eyes and let it lull you back to sleep. You were so impossibly tired.

The mattress dipped next to you and a pale face came to view. Usually warm, bright amber eyes were dim and red with dark circles under them, hardly dried tracks of tears still visible. His red hair was a complete mess, looking as if he pulled on it again and again. Even his clothes remembered better times, now all wrinkled and stained with blood. The front of his shirt was cut open, revealing the smooth skin of well shaped chest with a few freckles.

Unable to keep the eyes open, your eyelids dropped.

"No, please," he whispered in broken husky voice. "Stay with me. Don't go again to the places where I can't follow you to. Please.."

You wanted to please him at any cost. How could you not when his pleading voice alone was breaking your heart? You meant to just blink, but once your eyes closed, it took some time until you managed to open them again. So heavy. Your entire body felt too heavy.

He leaned in, his forehead touching yours, warm palms cupping your face.

"Stay.. please.. I can't take it anymore.." Hot wet tears that didn't belong to you, landed on your face.

You wanted to reassure him that you were going nowhere, however, it turned into a weak groan.

"No need to speak, my love," he shushed you gently, his lips brushing over yours with every word. "Give it a time."

His words didn't make sense, you couldn't even remember what happened, but right now it didn't seemed to be important anyway. A sweet smell of roasted apples, spicy cinnamon and woodsmoke washed over you, caressing your senses. You felt good and safe when he was so close. Corners of your lips twitched into a drowsy smile.

"For a moment you really scared me, do you know it?" His eyes searched yours. "I thought that I lost you for good."

More tears fell on your face, rolling down your cheeks. "I'm sorry for everything.. Especially, I'm so sorry for what I told you before you ran away from me. Anger took better of me, but I didn't mean it.. Well, I did, but not in a way you think."

You gave him a questioning look.

"I'm such an idiot.. Of course you have every right to know why I have chosen you. I will tell you everything.. Anything you want to know.. just.. don't leave me anymore."

At first, you were really confused and had no idea what he was talking about. It hurt you to see him like that. He was strong male, ruthless, yet he was so broken now. It was hard to see him in this state. Whatever caused him to tear like this, it had to be really bad.

As he continued, the memories had gradually returned. Now you remembered everything to the point when darkness whisked you away. With a gasp you reached to your neck finding layers of bandages where Volkan cut you with a dagger. How could you forget that you almost bled to your death? No, you actually died. For real. You were sure about that. You should be dead now, so how was this possible? Was it some kind of dream?

Eris watched the storm of emotions on your face with concern, gently took your hand and placed a kiss in the center of your palm. "It's over. He is dead. He won't hurt you anymore. No one will. I swear."

You squeezed his hand, grateful. Guilt, a feeling that didn't belong to you, filled your chest. You blinked in shock and slightly tilted head to the side, frowning.

"I'm such a selfish bastard," he hid his face in the crook of your neck. His arms carefully wrapped around you and he took a deep breath. "I wanted to have you nearby. I couldn't leave you on that horrible place, thinking that this would be much better for you. And look how you ended up! Once you were poisoned, then almost beaten to the death, then within months after that, you were cut and almost died again."

He sobbed and his fingers dug into fabric of your nightgown, clenching it. He nuzzled even closer and his hot breath fanned your sensitive skin. He was silent for a moment and then cleared his throat.

"The first time I saw you, was at the ball in Hewn City," his voice was distant as he recalled the memory. "I was about to leave when I caught a glimpse of you standing in the shadow of an alcove above everyone's heads. You looked like a goddess on a pedestal, calm and so.. resigned to your fate. You were so beautiful, but your eyes were sad and as empty as eyes of my mother used to be. It immediately snapped for me. It scared me, honestly, and I left thinking that I would forget soon."

He straightened up, looking down at you sadly. His long fingers combed through your hair. "I was so wrong," he snorted. "Your face followed me anywhere I went, occupied my mind day and night and I couldn't stand it anymore. I wanted you here with me. I was looking for you everytime I visited that place and as soon as I learnt your name I sent proposal. The vision of future with you drove me forward, and as soon as the opportunity presented itself, I didn't hesitate. The day you finally arrived and said your yes was the best day of my life. I couldn't take my eyes off of you as you walked toward me. You were even more beautiful up close."

The warm flames came to life, swirling in his eyes and he smiled at you sweetly through tears. It seemed that he couldn't keep his hands off of you. He was drawing circles with thumb on the back of your hand he held, just like he did the first day you two met. The other one again cupped your face.

"I've been walking this world for centuries and I've seen and experienced everything I possibly could. However, you, my sweetest, are so young and innocent and all you've ever experienced in your short life was sadness, loneliness and mistreatment. All this time I've longed to crush you in my arms, to keep you only to myself, but I was scared you would start to hate me. I'm not sure how to correctly treat people who are dear to me. I was never taught that. I was scared I would break you, throw you into another gold cage."

It seemed to be quite hard for him to transfer his thoughts and feelings into words and he talked slowly with many breaks. "I wanted you to come to me of your own will like that night when you were scared of storm. To let you do the first steps, to decide whether you want something more, to voice your desires. I wanted you to live. To experience new things.. To meet new people.."

His thumb brushed under your lower lip. "I wanted you to find out your likes and dislikes, how you want to live your life and after all that to still choose me over others. I planned to keep the bond a secret until then. I thought that it would make you feel under pressure to accept or like you owed me something."

His eyes filled with tears. "I messed it all beyond repair and I'm really so sorry for that. I will accept it, if you decide to refuse the bond after that all. I won't keep you here. You are free to go anywhere you want. If you decide to return home, I could write to Rhysand to find you some safe place to live. You won't need to work or worry about anything. I'll provide for you for the rest of your life."

Tears were rolling down his cheeks, his voice no more than a whisper. You could only hardly hold your own tears back. You swallowed around lump in your throat and winced at dull pain.

Your husband was quietly waiting for your ortel, his face turned into emotionless mask. Single word and he would give you space, really let you go. He wasn't trying to manipulate you. He apparently closed even his end of bond, keeping whatever he felt to himself.

Honestly, how could he not see it? Since that first dance, since he took you to his room and allowed you to take a look of him, all you wanted was him. You were slowly falling for him with every small gesture he offered you, whether it was only a squeeze of hand, kind word or flower left on your pillow.

You slightly shook your head, cursing your body for not allowing you to make a sound when you needed it the most. He probably took it as your final answer and started to slowly pull away, holding the mask in place. He misunderstood and you needed to fix it before it was too late.

You weren't sure how this things worked, but you tried to push the unnamed feeling that you felt when you thought of him, that warmed your heart and made it thrill, down the golden bond. Halting in his retreat, amber eyes widened in shock. He inhaled sharply through nose and rubbed his chest.

"You..," he licked his lips. "You love me..? Despite of this all?"

Love? That feeling was the love? Happy you finally deciphered the riddle that bothered you for so long, you smiled and did it again, but this time you didn't hold back and sent all you had.

"Uff," air escaped from him as if he got hit. Looking like a fish out of water his mouth opened and then closed. Suddenly he blushed. The red colour matching his hair spread from the neck up to the tips of his pointy ears and even down to his chest. He seemed to be flustered. He slightly turned away.

"I didn't think-.. I-I'm not sure what to say."

He was cute and so boyish when he was embarrassed to the point that it was hard to believe that this male was powerful, fearsome fiery High Lord. You rolled eyes and pulled him down by shirt until his lips where enough close to reach them. He didn't resist.

You lightly kissed him. When he didn't react, you got uncertain and embarrassed, and started to pull back. He followed you hungrily, pressing you to the pillow. His hand found its way to the back of your head, fingers entwined with your hair. His lips slightly parted and closed around your lower lip. Whole time he watched you closely, ready to stop at slightest hint.

There wasn't much you could do in your current state, so you just sent him another wave of love and kissed him back. That seemed to be enough and those beautiful burning orbs closed with approving groan.

This time he kissed you properly, deepening kiss with every stroke. It was the right patch for everything. You happily kissed him back just as hungrily as he did and even more when you reached up, touched his shoulders and he didn't back. On the contrary, Eris pulled you even closer and groaning slipped his tongue into your mouth. You were pleased to find out that he tasted like honey, sprinkled with salt but still unbelievably sweet and rich. Your lips danced together until you ran out of air and started panicking.

He immediately pulled back, panting. "I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

You managed very weak, hoarse and quite painful yes. You hated to admit it, but after choking so much lately, it scared you a bit. However, you felt lonely without him and pulled on his shirt. His lips stretched into the most adorable smile you'd seen on him. Your heart stuttered at the sight. He probably felt your adoration through the bond and chuckled, nuzzling tip of his nose to yours.

"Let's take it slowly."

He pulled the dirty shirt over his head and then even took off his trousers, kicking down shoes. Your eyes popped out of your head. If this was his concept of taking it slowly, you couldn't imagine its fast version. You didn't mean to complain, though. High Lord of Autumn was a complex masterpiece of ruthless power and breathtaking beauty. Seeing him only in his underwear did crazy things with your heart. And by his confident grin he knew it.

"Don't worry. My clothes are filthy and gross," he laughed. "We don't want to make you and the sheets dirty now, do we?" He winked.

You gaped at him. He was just as big, playful flirt as his younger brother Killian. You didn't know he had it in him.

He lay down next to you and pulled the covers up. You were disappointed. It was really a sight for gods. Pushing knee between your legs he carefully scooped you into an embrace.

"Everything okay?"

You swallowed hard, your heart racing up. You wouldn't be able to answer even if you could talk now.

"One tug for okay; like this," he lightly tug on the bond when he noticed your confusion. "And two for stop."

Smirking down at you he stopped, waiting. You were so dazed by his closeness, the warmth that seeped from his body to yours and new playful undertone of his voice that you forgot even how to breathe.

You tugged once.

"Great," his smile only grew and he leaned down, kissing you lazily.

Oh, Mother, his kiss was so addictive. He was so addictive. And his scent that grew stronger with every stroke of his soft lips. You were completely light-headed. You wanted to touched him so badly, but he was naked. Thinking he most likely wouldn't appreciate your hands on his scarred back or arms, you clenched sheets instead.

Eris pulled away enough to look into your eyes. He undone yours hand from sheets and moved it to his side. You felt his ribs moving with every breath under your fingers. His muscles danced as he moved.

Your brows knitted together in silent question and your husband shook head.

"If it's you, I want it. I want it all. As long as you don't mind it, me neither."

Carefully you moved your hand to his back and up to his shoulder, gently caressing him. He only closed his eyes and heaving heavily, hummed. Eris leaned down and his lips again found yours.

The entire time he was kissing you, he kept the same lazy pace as he explored your mouth, luring moans and small whimpers from you. His hands roamed over your body, massaging and squeezing, avoiding only your hurt neck. You kissed for hours and you enjoyed every second of his attention to the point you grew too tired to continue and fell asleep in the middle of that never-ending kiss.

With satisfied but tired smile, Eris curled around you, holding you to his chest. He made sure you were warm and comfortable before he allowed himself to close eyes, too, more than ready to follow you to the realm of dreams.

I wanted to add one more chapter to this to wrap it up even more sweetly. Even thought I know what I would write about, I can't make myself to do it for some reason, so I think I'll end the series here as was originally planned and maybe some day I'll write that chapter and add it as a bonus. Anyway, thank you very much for reading and I hope that you enjoyed this short story from Autumn Court🍂

[thewinter-eden]

Blood Sugar Virus (11)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Genre: Horror, zombies, strangers to lovers, angst, suspense Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female!reader Warnings: based on the Wanteez Zombie episode, ages are based on current Ateez rather than the time at which the actual episode was filmed, zombies galore, fear, language.

Story Summary: You (stage name Sugar) are the co-captain of a horror acting group. You and your guys are the ones the companies hire when they want to stage a zombie, ghost, or any vaguely horrific and dystopian episode. So when you get hired by Ateez to develop a zombie program, it's just another routine that you've done a million times. Everything's going exactly according to script--until suddenly it isn't, and it starts getting a little too real.

🏆 Esteemed Moot: @ramadiiiisme

⭐️ Reader Spotlight: @lunaryoongie

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The first thing you notice is that lights are on all over the school. Every space you can see ahead of you from your limited visibility on the stairs is brightly lit by the school’s daytime lights.

The next thing you notice is loud pounding. Not like bodies bumping into things or footsteps stomping, but like somewhere, twenty people are hammering nails into the wall.

And on top of all of that banging, on top of the mad rush of stampeding shoes, you hear Ateez shouting.

Not all of them—only two voices reach you, yelling for help, pleading at the top of their lungs to be let out.

You glance back at Namjoon, who appears just as puzzled as you are.

By the time you reach the second floor, you see them.

There are dozens of people.

Dozens of people flooding the halls, the lower stairs, flooding in and out of classrooms like they have to keep moving even though there’s nowhere to go.

Among the throng of faces you see your group’s producer. And your director. Multiple of your on-set stylists. Camera techs. Mic techs. Assistants.

You see Ateez staff, too.

Dozens of people, all of whom should have been in the vans out in the parking lot.

And all of them manic, wild, frenzied.

“Holy fuck.” Namjoon breathes beside you, staring in disbelief as the hoard howls and rampages, plowing into each other and trampling the ones who fall, crawling over piles of writhing and clawing bodies. “You didn’t say it was all of them. You didn’t say—”

You didn’t say the school was infested like a giant, terrible ant hill.

“It wasn’t. It wasn’t like this. It was just us.” You can’t believe your eyes, even as the halls are crawling with affected people right in front of you. “I don’t know where they came from. I don’t know how they got in.”

Behind you, Rosé lets out a loud gasp. “Oh my god, it’s Jungkook!”

You turn to search for the man she saw, the man who was supposed to be apprehended with Jennie, but that’s not what you see.

Instead, you see the number of faces that are staring back at you, drawn by the sound of Rosé’s voice.

And then they’re charging. The entire throng of honest to god zombies that are still on the lower stairs, moving towards your small group in a mad rush of shrieking and howling hunger.

You can’t go back up the stairs, you’ll never climb fast enough to get away from them. Instead, you snatch Jimin’s hand and bolt into the closest corridor, right on the heels of the zombies who haven’t noticed you yet.

Namjoon and Rosé are close behind you, quickly over taking you to yank the door to 2-1 open, pushing you and Jimin inside. They slam the door behind you just as half a dozen bodies crash into it.

But the other classroom door is open, and you’ve been overheard.

They’re flooding in blindly, pushing chairs and desks across the floor, filling the back of the classroom like a swarm of insects.

You find yourself being pushed to the ground, shoved against the door, crushed to the floor. Jimin is crowding you into the corner, tugging Rosé down with you. Your paltry group of four huddles on your knees, holding your breaths as the stampede storms through the room.

They can’t hear you, you’re no longer in their undiscerning line of sight, so you can only wait and pray as they stagger around you.

You’re pressed so close to Rosé that you can feel her entire body trembling.

Or maybe it’s your body that’s trembling.

Seconds pass in terrifying slow motion as you wait to be found out, but it never happens. The crowd is turning, hitting the walls and blindly funneling themselves back out of the room, and finally you can breathe again.

“I vote we break a window and jump.” Jimin whispers above your head.

“We’re on the second floor.” Namjoon argues. “We can’t jump.”

“As long as that noise keeps happening, they’re going to keep hunting.” You tell them, uncurling yourself from your cramped position.

“What is that noise?” Rosé whispers.

You don’t know.

None of you know.

It sounds like a construction zone downstairs, and it’s keeping the zombies in a state of frenzied excitement.

“We have to get downstairs.”

“Not while they’re in the stairwell. Not while they’re flooding the halls.” Jimin lifts his head to peer out the window. “God, they’re everywhere. How do we get out of here?”

The noise stops.

Just like that, the incessant pounding falls silent and all you hear are the zombies outside.

“Okay, wait.” You’re pacing, wracking your brain for some kind of strategy. “If everything’s quiet, they’ll calm down. If we wait for them to settle—”

“How do you know?” Namjoon rises to join you.

“Because Hobie was calm until he heard us earlier. And the stampeding didn’t start until the Fever Time kicked on. As far as I’ve seen, it’s enough like our program to be all we have to go on.”

Even as you speak, you see the rampage outside begin to slow, the animalistic movements dying down to a confused wandering.

The crowd thins as some of them get pushed up and down the stairs, some of them wandering into open classrooms.

They’re dispersing as you watch.

Jimin lets out a sigh of relief. “The next Fever Time starts in eight minutes. If we’re quiet, maybe we can make some headway towards the doors.”

You turn to your co-captain. “You have the key for the chain?”

He pats his pocket regretfully. “Yeah.”

You feel your racing pulse begin to calm. You only have a pathetic semblance of a plan, but it’s something. “So we make our way downstairs.”

The hallway is still relatively full, but the zombies are barely shuffling, their blood thirst dormant for the moment. You bend down and untie your shoes, slipping them off and leaving you once again in socked feet. You’ll be quieter without the hard soles of your boots tapping against the wood floors, and you’d rather risk your traction than the noise.

Beside you, your friends do the same.

If you get out of here, you’ll accept your bloodied feet from walking barefoot on the gravel outside as a trophy of your survival.

With silent steps, your group moves to the open door and scoots cautiously over the threshold.

The zombies all have their backs to you, bumbling in the far end of the corridor where they’d landed when the noise stopped.

Ahead of you, the stairwell seems clear.

There’s nothing you’d rather do than find a safe little closet and curl up in a ball to wait for the nightmare to end, but you can’t. Your friends are in this mess.

More than that, your clients are in this mess—if they’re still your clients.

You haven’t heard any of them shouting in minutes.

It feels like a lifetime.

As you approach the stairs down to the first floor, you hear a guttural huffing to your left and stop short.

A zombie, one of Ateez’ staff, you think, shuffles into your path ahead of you. Her clothes are ripped, her shirt hanging off of her shoulders, the skin of her arms rent with bleeding nail scratches. Her head lolls to the side as she stumbles in a state of dormancy, unaware of your presence.

Your friends stop beside you, waiting with bated breath.

The zombie twitches, and it makes your heart slam in your chest, but then she swings to the left and shuffles down the other end of the hall away from you.

Namjoon picks up the lead, knuckles white as he clenched around the towel you gave him in both hands.

The lower stairs are mere feet away when you hear something scrape just behind you. Snapping your head around to see who may have stumbled too close, you almost lose your footing with relief.

Instead of a zombie, you see Seonghwa in the classroom to your right, crouching tensely in an attempt to stable the stack of books he’s nearly knocked off a shelf. Gesturing to Jimin to keep going after the others, you turn into the room.

Seonghwa hasn’t heard you yet, nor has he heard the zombie that’s fumbling around behind him, standing near the chalkboard, twitching.

You approach cautiously, hoping he’ll see you before you reach him, but he doesn’t. You can’t just grab him or touch him, not with the zombie so close, so you take a risk and prop yourself up on your tiptoes, reaching over his shoulder to press your hand to his mouth.

His entire body lurches with fright, jerking against you, so clamp down harder and bring your lips to his ear. “It’s me. Sugar.” You whisper, and he practically falls against you in relief. Dropping your hand from his mouth, you let him turn to face you before pointing to the zombie.

The oldest of your clients presses his lips together and lets you pull him into the hallway, safely away from the member of your crew who has started to make his way towards the back of the room where you were.

When Seonghwa sees your friends creeping along ahead of you, he bends low to whisper in your ear. “They came out of nowhere. You didn’t…” he drifts off, meeting your eyes apprehensively.

“I didn’t let them in.” You breathe back. “I was upstairs with them when the lights came on and the mob started.”

He wraps his hand around your arm and walks with you. He’s also shucked his shoes, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. “I’m sorry. Yunho, he’s…he’s just protective.”

You shake your head, lifting your hand to squeeze his. “I would have done the same. But I swear, I had nothing to do with this.”

He watches you for a moment, eyes tracing your face, bouncing down to your bite and back. “I know,” he says. “I know, I’m sorry.”

His apology is nice, comforting, but unnecessary. You really don’t blame them for not trusting you, not after it was your team who turned on them first. If you had been in their shoes, watching what they had thought was a safe and fun episode turn into a horror movie at the hands of your colleagues, you would have been distrustful of the only actor who was the exception.

You join the others then, finding them grouped at the top of the stairs.

Namjoon glances between you and Seonghwa, examining the man as though there’s some chance that he’s just as berserk as the rest of them, but he quickly gives up his suspicion.

“We got separated up here.” Seonghwa whispers. “I don’t know where the rest of my group is.” he pulls away from you to address your co-captain, casting hesitant glances at Jimin and Rosé. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Namjoon shakes his head tightly. “We’re headed downstairs. I’m getting my people out of here. If you want to do the same, we understand.” With a final glance at you, he starts down the stairs.

Entering the stairwell feels like backing yourself into a corner with no escape, like you’re funneling yourselves directly into a slaughter chute, but it’s your only option.

Seonghwa hesitates beside you, but ultimately decides to follow.

As you go, you check the clock that’s hanging on the wall at the landing. You have two minutes until the next Fever Time. There’s no time to be slowing down.

With no zombies immediately in sight, you reach forward and grip Rosé’s hand, hurrying you both down faster. The others follow your lead, rushing down on silent socked feet until you reach the bottom of the steps.

Once there, you’re forced to slow down once more. There are a few zombies in the adjacent corridor, wandering aimlessly just feet away.

And just beyond them, you spot Mingi and Jongho, hugging the wall as they attempt to slip past a huddle of your crew.

Seonghwa sees them at the same time you do, moving past you to get to them. You drop Rosé’s hand and find yourself following him before you realize you’ve decided to.

Weaving and skirting past the zombies who can’t see you, holding your breath as you pass them with bravery you didn’t know you had, you reach the corner of the hallway and stop just behind Seonghwa.

He lifts his hand, waving to get his brothers’ attention. They catch sight of him immediately, eyes lighting up with recognition.

Seonghwa beckons them closer, shaking as the meandering mob inadvertently moves to fill the space between you and the two stragglers.

A memory of Yeosang, still playing the harmless game, tossing a pen across the room to attract the zombies’ attention, comes back to you. You pat yourself down, but you’re not carrying anything. You have nothing to throw to pull the hoard away enough to clear the way for Jongho and Mingi.

So you lift your hand, signaling to Seonghwa to stay where he is, and you cross the hallway to slip into class 1-1. Once inside, you find the room mercifully empty. The door at the other side near the teacher’s desk is open, and it’s closest to where your clients were trapped.

Dodging desks until you get to the open doorway, you grab a chair in trembling hands and meet the eyes of the men who didn’t trust you mere minutes ago.

Silent communication passes between you in the span of a second.

Jongho nods to you.

You grip the chair back and slide it loudly across the floor, just an inch or two.

Horrible grunting reaches your ears as the clump of zombies hears the sound of wood on wood, and then four of them are lurching through the doorway, straight for you.

For a moment you stand frozen, and you see Mingi and Jongho make a quiet run for it down the hall, out of sight.

You’re alone in a classroom that’s slowly filling with zombies who haven’t seen you yet. They’re unable to distinguish your figure from the rest of the furniture, their heads cocking and twitching to the side as they listen for the next noise to follow, and you’re loathe to give it to them.

Experimentally, out of options, you raise a hand.

One of them pauses at the motion, but he quickly redirects to the sound of the zombie next to him bumping into a desk.

Reassured that limited movement might still keep you safe, you begin to slowly back away, towards the door you entered through. As you go, you catch sight of a book on one of the desks.

Picking it up between two fingers, you clutch it to your chest and continue your slow retreat from the awkward approach of ten, now twelve, now fifteen stalking zombies.

Just as the open doorway comes into your peripheral, your heel bumps the leg of a chair.

The slight sound of it scooting behind you is deafening.

The mob jumps forward, zeroed in on the noise.

You snap your arm up and hurl the book at the opposite wall, heart pounding so hard in your throat you think it’s choking you. The book smacks against the wall and clatters loudly to the floor, and, as one, the hoard doubles back and lunges after it.

Not wasting a single second of precious time, you spin your numb body and practically fly over the threshold, flinging yourself directly into someone’s chest.

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tag list : @mysterysold @threevracha @igotajuicyass @velvetmoonlght @mrsminseochoi @nightshadeblooming @furfoxsake22 @marvolos

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 Scenes of panicked civilians rushing out of Kamal Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahiya, in the northern Gaza Strip, after the Israeli occupation army targeted the reception hall of the medical center with artillery shells, damaging the entrance to the hospital in what can only be a blatant violation of international humanitarian law. 📈 The current death toll now exceeds 35'647 Palestinians killed and over 79'852 others have been wounded since Oct. 7th. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

DAY 228: US OKAYS "LIMITED" OPERATION IN RAFAH, OVER 900'000 PALESTINIANS DISPLACED, AL-AWDA HOSPITAL UNDER SIEGE, MASS MURDER CONTINUES UNABATED

On 228th day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 5 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 85 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 200 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted, as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

The authorities of the Israeli occupation have agreed to put aside plans for a full-scale assault on the city of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, for a more "limited" operation in the city, with the approval of the United States.

In an article published by David Ignatius in the Washington Post, Ignatius writes that "Israeli leaders have reached a consensus about a final assault on Hamas’s four remaining battalions in Rafah."

"Instead of the heavy attack with two divisions that Israel contemplated several weeks ago, government and military leaders foresee a more limited assault that U.S. officials think will result in fewer civilian casualties and, for that reason, Biden won’t oppose," Ignatius added.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation army says it has displaced approximately 950'000 Palestinians in the Rafah area, where more than 1.5 million civilians had gathered to seek shelter from the occupation's ongoing violent bombardment of Gaza.

According to the Israeli occupation forces (IOF), some 300'000 to 400'000 Palestinians remain in the city, whose population was less than 172'000 prior to the start of "Israel's" ongoing genocide of Palestinians.

Previously, the IOF ordered the evacuation of the eastern neighborhoods of Rafah, dropping leaflets over the city that demanded Palestinians uproot themselves and their belongings for the umpteenth time and move their families to the already obliterated city of Khan Yunis, as well as the equally destroyed Al-Mawasi area.

The Israeli media claims the occupation army never ordered the rest of the population leave the city, and that hundreds of thousands of Palestinians have "chosen" to leave Rafah of their own volition.

Although IOF soldiers and armored vehicles have stopped short of entering central Rafah, their bombing and shelling has NOT remained contained within the easternmost neighborhoods, but has repeatedly hammered central and northern Rafah as well.

In other news, the humanitarian aid organization ActionAid International has issued an urgent appeal to the international community to intervene on behalf of the Al-Awda Hospital in Jabalia, in the northern Gaza Strip, which has been besieged by the Israeli occupation army for several days.

"Al-Awda Hospital, one of our vital partners, is currently under siege by the Israeli army, resulting in the complete blockade of access to and from the facility. This blockade severely impedes the hospital's ability to provide essential medical services to the most vulnerable populations in the north of Gaza," ActionAid warned on Tuesday.

Previously, the Israeli occupation forces laid siege to Al-Awda Hospital for 18 days in December, 2023, during which, three medical staff were shot by Israeli snipers.

According to ActionAid International, whose headquarters is based in Johannesburg, South Africa, the hospital is "struggling to meet the urgent medical needs of the community, with 80% of injuries requiring immediate orthopaedic intervention."

"The capacity of Al-Awda Hospital has been severely compromised due to the bombing of its accommodation floors, resulting in the deaths of three doctors and the loss of 48 beds. Despite these challenges, 93 medical personnel continue to work tirelessly under extremely difficult conditions," the appeal said of the conditions at the hospital.

According to the acting Director of Al-Awda Hospital, Dr. Mohammed Salha, the hospital remains "under siege again by the Israeli military, with shooting and shelling in its vicinity, ambulances unable to leave the hospital and injured people unable to enter."

"We were surprised today by the siege of Al-Awda Hospital. [There was] shooting fired in the vicinity of the hospital and many shells," Dr. Salha is quoted as saying.

ActionAid goes on to emphasize that "the crisis unfolding at Al-Awda Hospital demands immediate attention and action. We urge leaders and governments across the world to leverage their diplomatic influence and take actions to address this urgent crisis."

"Specifically, we call on you to demand an immediate end to the siege imposed on the hospital by the Israeli government, allowing for the free movement of patients, medical staff, and essential medical supplies and fuel. Furthermore, we implore you to ensure the protection of civilians and medical staff both at Al-Awda Hospital and across Gaza. Swift and decisive action is imperative to alleviate the suffering of those affected by this humanitarian crisis," the appeal concludes.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation army continues massively bombing and shelling various axis of the Gaza Strip, killing and wounding many scores of Palestinians and their families, while destroying the little remaining infrastructure and the few residential buildings still standing in the enclave following nearly 8 months of non-stop bombardment.

Today also marks the 15th consecutive day the Israeli occupation authorities have closed the Rafah and Karm Abu Salem border crossings, south of Rafah, preventing the passage of humanitarian and medical aid convoys, compounding the humanitarian catastrophe unfolding in Gaza.

The occupation army forces holding the two crossings have prevented more than 3'000 aid trucks from entering the Gaza Strip, while also preventing around 700 sick and wounded Palestinians from leaving Gaza for treatment abroad.

At the same time, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) continued their assault on Jabalia, in the northern Gaza Strip, pummeling the city and camp with constant airstrikes and artillery shelling, while also hammering various other areas of northern Gaza.

On Tuesday morning, occupation warplanes bombed a residential building belonging to the Al-Kahlot family in the Beit Lahiya project, in Gaza's north, killing at least 12 civilians, while another 14 martyrs and 42 wounded resulting from IOF raids in the city were transported to Kamal Adwan Hospital over the previous 24-hours.

Several casualties were also recorded following the bombing of IOF fighter jets on a house belonging to the Al-Kahtib family, also in Beit Lahiya.

Simultaneously, Zionist military forces closed the entrance to the town of Beit Hanoun, also in northern Gaza, besieging the town and a nearby school filled with displaced Palestinian families.

In the meantime, occupation aircraft bombed the Zaharna family home, in the Al-Tuffah neighborhood, east of Gaza City, murdering three Palestinians and wounding a number of others.

Occupation fighter jets also bombed a civilian residence belonging to the Qandil family in the Al-Sabra neighborhood, south of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of four civilians who were transported to Al-Ahli Baptist Hospital in the city.

Occupation artillery shelling also hammered the eastern areas of the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City.

Elsewhere in Gaza, occupation Merkava tanks advanced beyond the Salah al-Din Gate along the border south of Rafah, while also demolishing several residential buildings using intense artillery shelling in the Brazil neighborhood, east of the city.

Tanks and armored vehicles were also stationed in the vicinity of Al-Najjar Hospital in Rafah.

Meanwhile, IOF warplanes bombed and destroyed several entire residential squares in the Yabna Camp, in central Rafah, while occupation forces targeted a group of people near the Awadallah Junction in the same camp, killing at least 5 civilians.

Zionist air forces went on to bombard several neighborhoods east of the Khan Yunis governate.

Previously, on Monday night, Israeli occupation forces bombed a Palestinian home belonging to the Abu Azoum family in central Rafah, massacreing three civilians and wounding several others, while yet another bombing targeting the Tabasi family home, which resulted in a number of casualties.

In further atrocities, occupation aircraft bombed a residential house belonging to the Abu Tair family in Abasan Al-Kabira, east of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, resulting in the deaths of three Palestinians, while many others were wounded or remain missing under the rubble.

Military gunboats with the Israeli occupation army also fire machine guns towards the coast of Khan Yunis, while an Israeli quadcopter opened fire on a gathering of civilians behind the Association for the Disabled near the border with Egypt.

In central Gaza, the slaughter continued when occupation raids targeted the Bureij Camp, while Zionist soldiers killed two young men with gunfire in the Netzarim military axis, north of the Nuseirat Camp.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the current death toll now exceeds 35'647 Palestinians killed, including at least 15'000 children and over 10'000 women, while another 79'852 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

May 21st, 2024.

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@WorkerSolidarityNews

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

Vi and her Counterpart’s Violence

Okay so as soon as I saw this scene in s2e3, I was immediately reminded of this scene in s1e6

Vi sees someone she loves, someone she perceives as innocent and in dire need of protection, being so comfortable with violence. She doesn’t have a problem with violence, if anything she uses it as a tool, but she has a problem with certain other people doing the same. Why should they be so violent when she has it handled? When she is meant to be the violent one, shielding them from getting to that level?

Caitlyn and Jinx are never beating the mirror allegations

In both scenes, Vi calls out her counterpart’s name multiple times. But, of course, instead of calling Jinx by her chosen name, she calls her Powder. And instead of calling Caitlyn by her given name, she calls her Cait. ‘Jinx’ represents Vi’s greatest failure, the opposite of who Powder is meant to be, while ‘Caitlyn’ seems represent privilege and power, the two major things enabling Caitlyn to act in such an opposite way to how she’s ‘meant’ to. ‘Caitlyn’ is who everyone else knows. They know Caitlyn Kiramman. Vi knows Cait. Vi knows her Cupcake. (Still a little confused on why we haven’t heard that at all this season?)

Violence is Vi’s. It’s hers because she refuses for it to be her counterpart’s. Of course, we’ve said this a million times: Vi is a protector first and foremost. A protector fails when their protectee is exposed to the weight on the protector’s shoulders. Vi was never meant to be innocent and she never seems to resent that, all she does is take it as a challenge that has no failing option.

In both seasons, Vi was pulled away from the situation and everything was interrupted. But, at least in s2, she got to talk to Caitlyn after. The problem is that there was such an obvious disconnect. It doesn’t matter if there was a kid, Caitlyn would have gotten the shot. It doesn’t matter if Caitlyn would have gotten the shot, there was a kid. (Although, I do think this whole kid thing is interesting after seeing how Vi feels about collateral damage when Jayce killed that Chembaron’s child. Maybe after seeing the council explosion, Caitlyn’s grief and that same Chembaron plan a terrorist attack, she’s changed her mind?)

Vi gets to view violence as a necessity. Vi gets to choose when violence is right or wrong, not who she’s supposed to be protecting. Vi gets to find comfort in violence, not who she’s supposed to be protecting.

Vi begging Caitlyn not to change isn’t just about everyone else in her life changing, it’s about forcing her own position to change as well when she finds so much comfort in it.

Anyway, I just think the parallels between these scenes are pretty cool and also getting to see Vi on the receiving end of violence from who she’s meant to be protecting is so interesting. I do wish the parallels were hammered home a little bit more because the scene in s1, you could really see it in Vi’s face and hear it in her voice how fearful she was of seeing Powder like that throughout the whole scene, while the fight scene felt a little short and the argument after left me wanting a bit more! Even tho I did appreciate the intensity of Caitlyn saying Jinx’s blood is in Vi’s veins and Vi saying Caitlyn is the one acting like her and all Caitlyn can respond with is violence, further proving Vi’s point and hurting her even more. I appreciate it all, but I hate to say that it feels like it’s missing something! I think what I wanted to hear from Vi was more than ‘It’s a kid!’ I wanted Vi to try to wake Caitlyn up, cry to her about her and Powder’s childhood’s, throw Caitlyn’s argument about ‘the cycle of violence’ back at her. But we didn’t get that.

[reioka-reads]

Title: The Martian

Author: Andy Weir

Status: Keep

So listen. There are going to be some spoilers here. I don’t think they’re going to matter because this book is good even if you know what’s going to happen. I know some of you are thinking “Why should I read this book when I’ve seen the movie? Why should I read it if you’re going to spoil it?” Well, I’m not your boss or your mom, but this book is REALLY FUCKING GOOD. Like, I’m not a sci-fi fan AT ALL, but I had fun with this. This book is absolutely action-packed! There was NO time that I was bored reading this, even when Mark was explaining math or engineering. Every time we seemed to settle into a routine after a near-death experience, ANOTHER GODDAMN DEADLY EXPERIENCE HAPPENED!!!! Which makes sense when you’re accidentally abandoned on Mars with equipment that was only supposed to last (roughly) a month and you have to make it last over a year. Sitting with the knowledge of having finished the book, I actually like to think that the movie is what in-book Hollywood came up with. (Commander Lewis is still agog that the movie sent her out into space in the movie.)

Also the more I think about it, the more we need to get young men to read this. So many times it feels like a book about pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and doing for yourself. But every time when you start to internalize that, Mark is there to sucker-punch you with, “No. I couldn’t do this without help.” He isn’t an island. He is LONELY. He misses people. There’s a scene where he says “I thought I would have reacted this other way after making contact with people. Instead I came inside and I bawled like a baby.” and that scene is SO IMPORTANT TO ME. Humans are, for the most part, social creatures, and from the get-go Mark is in survival mode. He doesn’t have time to really internalize how lonely and sad he is, until that moment he makes contact, and he realizes how lonely and sad he’s been. And men need to see to internalize this. It’s so heavily suggested throughout the book, but it’s really nailed home in the last chapter. WE NEED EACH OTHER. I NEEDED OTHER PEOPLE AND THEY HELPED ME WITHOUT HESITATION AND THAT’S WHAT BEING HUMAN IS ABOUT.

This book constantly hammers home that to really succeed, people need other people. NASA was working around the clock to figure out a way to extend Mark’s life expectancy so that the next Mars expedition could rescue him. People gave up things they’d been working on for other projects to make sure they had everything they needed for Mark. China saved the fucking day when they didn’t have to and even after all the enmity between countries. Mark’s team committed mutiny to come get him. Millions, BILLIONS of dollars spent to bring one man home. This book is about the indomitable human spirit, yes, but not just Mark’s. Every. Single. Person in this book would not accept defeat. And that means something. I finished this book, closed it, and wept. Despite all odds, Mark survived. And he couldn’t have done it alone. And he makes sure to tell us that before he even leaves to finally take a shower after over fifty days without one.

[starsandsugars]

Burning Desire

PAIRINGS: shiv roy/f!reader

SUMMARY: you had hoped that working on a work assignment with shiv might make her open up to you. Instead it lead to you 'opening up' in an entirely different way. (NSFW • MINORS DNI)

TAGS: coworkers hooking up, degredation, praise, office crushes, cheating (if you squint)

NOTES: hi guys :) this is my first fic I'm posting on tumblr and my first piece of smut so please be nice and I hope y'all like it!

-

Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Shiv's hand press firmer against your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet even as she continued to pump her fingers into you at that ruthless pace. Each stroke of her fingertips hit that perfect spot inside you, drawing out animalistic sounds that were just barely concealed by her. Every little touch made you feel electric, every inch of your body practically vibrating from the pleasure.

As your head tilted back and knocked back against the door, you thank whatever God there was for putting you in this situation.

You had seen Shioban Roy countless times around the Waystar offices, normally in some meeting or getting into an argument with her siblings that half the staff had to witness.

You knew very little about her initially other than what was public knowledge. You had no reason to pay her any mind, but you always felt your eyes drawn to her anyway.

At first you reasoned it was because of the effortless way she commanded the room or the fact that, as Gerri's second in command, she was kind of your bosses boss but as your curiosity began to change shape it became harder and harder to deny.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from her if she walked by your desk, the simple twirl of her hips enough to take your breath away. When she leaned over her desk to talk to you, you just about lost your ability to think clearly. And the one time you saw her kiss her husband in the lobby it filled you with a feeling you refuse to admit even to yourself.

It was ridiculous, and beyond irresponsible.

For one, she was your boss. If that wasn't enough she was married - to the head of news at the company that you work for no less!

You did your best to convince yourself that it was just an office crush. She was a beautiful woman with a touch of power that turned you on more than you wanted to admit. That was surely all it was.

Or it least, that was all it had been, until you got assigned to work on an agreement that Shiv, as President of Operations was hwading. t really wasn't an overly complicated assignment, which is why Gerri handed it over to you, and you expected to be done with it in a couple of days.

As it turns out, that was far from the case. The other company refused to sign, and what could have been a couple meetings turned into long days and nights cooped up in Shiv's office hunched over paperwork.

Your silly crush hadn't gotten away, and had gotten even harder to manage. Now you were close enough to smell her expensive perfume, close enough to hear the edge her voice took when she was telling you to do something.

You tried to push it down, smother it, but the flame only grew brighter with each day you spent together.

Finally, after a million emails and a formally worded threat of litigation, the smaller tech company signed the contract and became a part of the growing monolith that was Waystar Royco.

You had never seen Shiv happier, practically beaming as she went immediately to gloat to her father. You took your things and disappeared back to your own office, expecting that would be the end of your Shiv Roy saga.

You were a little sad to see it end, but you're sure your vibrator will thank you for a break now that you won't have to constantly be so close to her so you prepare yourself to just move on.

You should have known things with her could never be that simple.

Just as you began to catch up with your other work you've been neglecting to help her she pops her head into your office.

"Come out with me to celebrate our win." She says without so much as a 'hello', "Drinks on me."

It wasn't a request so much as a command, but you found yourself agreeing anyway.

With that she turned on her heels, leaving you with a fluttering feeling in your stomach.

You were distracted the rest of the day wondering what she was up to. Did she really just want to celebrate? What was her game here? You knew the Roys well enough to know they never did anything without an agenda.

By the time she came to get you from your office at the end of the day you were all but convinced she was going to fire you. You went with her anyway, heart thumping in your chest as the two of you sat quietly in her private car.

She had her driver take you two to a high end bar that seemed to be pretending to be a dive bar. It was busy, with warm bodies and loud music everywhere. It could almost pass for a normal bar if it weren't for the suits all around and the fact that one of their drinks rang up for twice as much as your hourly wage.

She (thankfully) bought you your drink and turned to gave you fully once you had both settled into a leather booth.

It started off perfectly innocently, talking about you success with the deal and your future at Waystar. Your anxiety began to melt as you realized she really wasn't firing you. In fact, she seemed like she genuinely wanted to talk to you.

You talked your way through another 2 drinks each, both of you slowly opening up to each other. You told her about how much Gerri gets on your case and she tells you about her open relationship with Tom.

She drops it into the conversation casually but the way she blinks her eyes gives her away. She knows exactly what she's doing.

"I mean, I don't control what he does. Why would I let him control me?" She leans a little closer, and the finger tracing the rim of her drink turned into a heavy hand on your thigh.

Her voice lowers as she continues, sending shivers down your spine.

"I sleep with whoever I want. Whenever I want."

Your voice choked up a little as you responded, voice sticking in your throat from the sheer shock of it all.

"Yeah, me too." You manage, drawing a laugh from the redhead.

"Oh yeah?" She teases, eyes twinkling as she whispers into your ear.

"Why don't you come show me?"

Before you can even begin to think better of it her ingers splayed are across your back and she's guiding you to the back of the bar.

She opens a door knowingly and you realize she had planned this. If she had to have an angle, you were glad it was this one.

Once the two of you were inside she pressed you back against the door. The cold metal pulled a shiver from you, but the second her lips were on yours it's like every other sensation melted away. She kissed you like she wanted to consume you and you would be more than happy to let her.

As if reading your thoughts she bit your lip, pulling a little yelp out of her. She grinned and moved her lips against your neck as her hands slid up under your dress. You preened under her touch, breathy moans escaping you despite yourself.

It took only a moment for your panties to be tugged down your legs but she paused before actually touching you. You tired rolling your hips but all she did was brush your clit all too softly.

"Shiv, please." You begged, tapping into the want for submission she so clearly had in her normal life. The tendency clearly extends to sex because as soon as you give her what she wants she finally pushed her fingers into you.

She was clearly skilled with her fingers and she worked you up in no time. You moaned loudly, and she gripped your chin to warn you.

"Be. Quiet."

When you couldn't comply she shoved her hand over your mouth, gripping your cheeks to keep it in place. When you whimpered enough to be heard through her attempted gag she crowded you further against the wall.

"Shut up."

She spoke into your ear, equal parts threat and promise.

"Unless you want us to get caught. Maybe you'd like that. Maybe you want everyone to see what you let me do to you in this bathroom."

She strikes just the right spot inside of you and your thighs begin to quake, fingers clutching desperately to her shoulders. You know you should try to maintain some level of basic self respect but when she looks at you with those hungry eyes you just can't find it in yourself to care.

"God you're such a slut." She says, sounding pleasantly surprised. The words send sparks down your spine and you feel yourself tumble over the edge.

Your mind is hazy and your legs shake so badly she has to use her thigh to prop you up.

Once you had calmed down enough to do something that resembled normal breathing she let you go, smiling like she's just won some kind of contest.

"Good girl. I knew you had it in you." She says, and it's a struggle not to let the praise go straight to your head.

She starts to check her reflection in the mirror over the sink as you stay against the door, trying to make your brain work properly again.

Eventually you come to your senses enough to straighten up and try to appear half as nonchalant as she is.

You approach her, leaning against the sink as you watch her fix her hair.

"You're not going to let me return the favor?" You ask with a tone od faux innocence, trying to talk as if it were about a business deal instead of the most mind blowing orgasm of your life.

"Oh trust me, you're going to." She grins at you in the mirror. "But we're not doing this again in the bathroom. We're going back to my apartment."

She strides right out of the bathroom, knowing you were going to follow her without you having to say a word.

She's not wrong, and you chase after her before you even have the time to realize your panties are still discarded on the bathroom floor.

[kerubimcrepin]

LIVEBLOG: Wakfu Season 4, Episode 1

I'm awful at emotional speeches, but I just wanted to say... I'm very happy that I got to run this blog for such a long time. And I hope that there is still a lot of fun ahead of us. It feels very triumphant, to finally get to season 4 together with you all :)

"Let's kill Tot with Hammers" moment #1: This is an image Bonta of Dofus era, reused in Wakfu Season 4 to save money. Usually, Wakfu era Bonta is not white colored, and it does not have the same architecture that it had in Dofus era.

I do not know why they didn't just reuse images of Bonta from the OVAS, which are accurate to the Wakfu MMO and Wakfu Season 1 vision of Bonta.

"Let's kill Tot with Hammers" moment #2: Once again, this is just reusing the movie assets...

Also, the house has shifted positions. Did Kerubim, Atcham, and Joris move...? (I ask this despite knowing that the answer is "Ankama really dropped the ball with some of the animation and the sheer amount of asset reusage with this season, for some unknowable reason")

I am going to cry, he's so fucking funny... Save me. Shelter me.

This is Clown Olympics. I love you, Atcham and Kerubim. You are so right.

Literally they do not give a fuck. Is he implying Joris should go to the grocery store instead of staring at the evil, ominous eyes in the sky. Is he implying they should all eat dinner first and think about whatever the fuck is happening later.

I will be honest, I'm pretty sure they're like that because if they weren't, Joris would have a stress-induced heart attack. Joris can do all the worrying for the team. They don't need to feed into the worries of the guy who, at 7 years of age, convinced himself that Astrub was about to be overrun by zombies and nearly cried over a bottle-opener because of that.

Kerubim and Atcham really don't give a shit about little Jojo's opinions, huh.

He says something and the response is almost always "I'm not arguing with someone who is 70–90 years younger than me. Whatever u say gorgeous" and then go back to ignoring it. Insane.

[drooling at the thought of whatever Yugo does in the manga starting the Waven era and killing millions of people, which leads to Joris's (as well as Kerubim and Atcham's) military dictatorship in Bonta, and the way it truly underpins the character parallels between Joris and Yugo in a "child hero to antichrist type figure of ruin and death pipeline" way and the way they both demonstrate that road to hell is paved with good intentions] w-whaatever u say gorgeous. 🥴🤤

When I saw this the first time, I audibly groaned, and messaged my friends saying "I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING TRANSLATE THIS FONT AGAIN!! FUCK!!!!!"

...this says "Coqueline"

This is the Lorem Ipsum filler text. No cool easter eggs here.

This moment really touched me when I watched this season. Even with Joris, who is only six centuries old, you can see The Entropy begin to set in. Seeing cities built and rebuilt and destroyed and rebuilt. Seeing thousands of friends die, be born. Lose your entire family to time. And watch it be so eroded away by time that there is basically no proof of those loved ones, and the places you went to together, even existing.

I think it would be beautiful for someone immortal to know that somewhere out there, there's tangible and irrefutable proof of everything they have ever seen and experienced, including every single thing they love that is no more.

Oooor maybe I'm getting Ronik'y into it. I'm insane about immortality.

You get what you FUCKING DESERVE. ✌

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Ghosts

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )    

Human: *Walks into room* I think we need to move. Alien: We just moved in, why do we need to move? Human: I am 95% sure this place is haunted. Alien: What does that mean? Human: It means there’s something else in this home alongside us. Alien: Now I’m pissed. Human: Because we’re being haunted? Alien: No. Alien: Because they’re not helping with the mortgage. --------------

*Lights flicker on and off randomly* Human: This is getting scary. Alien: Really? Alien: Poor electrical wiring is scary? Alien: *Flips off lights and lights candles* Alien: Use these instead. Human: *Reaches out for lit candle when light is suddenly blown out* Alien: Okay, now I’m getting upset. -----------

Human: *Steps out of shower and wipes mist off mirror* *Horrible reflection looks back at him* Human: Hey sweetie get in here! Alien: *Walks in and sees horrible reflection* Human: What do you say about that?!?! Alien: *Causally leaves room and returns with hammer* *Smashes mirror into tiny pieces* Alien: You need more conditioner. ---------------

Human: *Walks into dining* *Sees furniture stacked in a pyramid formation* Human: *Looks up to see Alien partner sitting on top of it all sipping morning tea and reading paper* Human: How are you so okay with all of this? Alien: You know I don’t believe in your wild superstitions. *Suddenly chair floats above alien and slams against the back of their head, shattering into a million pieces and sending the alien tumbling to the floor* Human: How about now? Alien: I am *coughs up blood* starting to have my suspicions. --------------

*Doors open and exorcist walks in* Exorcist: You were wise to call me; I can sense the evil of this house already. Alien: Bit early to judge. Exorcist: My church has taught me well of such sensations. Alien: I bet it did. Exorcist: Pardon me? Alien: Does “Ratlines” mean anything to you? Exorcist: *Coughs into hand* Human: *Turns to Alien* I’ve seen you struggle to open a car door and yet somehow you are well versed in world war two histories. --------------------

Exorcist: *Walks around house* Exorcist: Where is the evil centered? Human: Basement. Exorcist: Then let’s go down there. Alien: We don’t go into the basement. Exorcist: Why? Human: They don’t like it when we go down there. Exorcist: *Holds up symbol of faith* have faith my child, for our lord shall protect us. Alien: I don’t have a lord so I doubt they’ll protect me. Human: Yeah, and I’m an atheist so- Exorcist: Wait, you’re an atheist? Human: Yeah, why? Exorcist: *Packs up things and leave* Good luck with your ghosts you heathen fuckers. *As they’re walking away another floating chair comes up behind them and smashes it against their head, sending them to the grassy lawn* Human: I’m not even mad at that one. -----------------------

*Several humans walk in* Lead human: We’re the ghost hunters and we’re here to help. Alien: Question. Lead Human: Shoot. Alien: How many ghosts have you actually slain? Lead Human: We don’t actually kill ghosts. Alien: Then why are you hunters? -----------------------

*After several cameras installed and night falls* Lead Human: If there is a spirit amongst us, we wish to speak with you. *House groans* Lead Human: Give us a sign if you are here. *Vase goes flying off the wall and hits them in the head* Alien: *Watching from van outside* Should have been more specific. --------------------------

Lead human: Why didn’t you tell me it threw things? Alien: We have been telling you this entire time. Lead Human: You said it only used chairs. Human: Chairs are just vases for humans. Alien: That’s a debate for another time.

[asideofchaos]

II 16 Spoilers Ahead!

So I see a lot of people panicking that the contestants aren't real, but I don't that's what the whole "MePhone Created Everyone" was supposed to mean.

Because yes, MePhone made them and we see Suitcase and Knife glitch at the end, but we also see repeatedly that the contestants have their own souls and free will. Sure, there is definitely parts of them that MePhone came up with; such as PB's fire and the S2 Finalist not remembering the S3 time skip, but we see again and again the contestants doing things that MePhone does not want.

Case and point: Taco. Everything about Taco. Not only was she secretly smart without MePhone knowing, but she 1. tried to steal the million dollars, 2. hid in the woods for who-knows how long, 3. conspired with and manipulated running contestants, 4. kidnapped his assistant, and 5. took over the show for an entire episode. If MePhone had control over her then none of that would have even happened.

Outside of Taco, almost all of the contestants do things that MePhone does not want, such as:

Bow never leaving no matter how many times she was punched with the Fist-Thingy

The eliminated S1 contestants trying to escape Idiotic Island

Paper going insane and everything with Evil Paper happening

The Cherries launching Marshmallow to space where she would be unrecoverable

OJ suing MePhone and threatening to do it again

Tissues making MePhone sick

Suitcase developing horrible anxiety and hallucinations

Microphone taking Taco's deal

Lightbulb using Fan to fly (which we see MePhone call out as cheating)

Marshmallow running away to live in Purgatory Mansion

Lightbulb and Test Tube traveling back in time

Paintbrush painting Steve Cobs and then burning the entire field

Lightbulb and Test Tube finding the Gemories

Fan rushing out to get the egg

Knife not telling MePhone about Taco

Fan and Test Tube creating Bot to bring back Bow; who MePhone did not like

The Eliminated S3 contestants being able to go back to the hotel

Box getting hit with a hammer, falling down a mountain, and then bursting into flames when MePhone did not have a medic

The Floor not being able to be eliminated and almost erupting the volcano

Blueberry faking his own death

Silver Spoon letting his aura get the better of him and almost killing Candle

Lightbulb avoiding telling everyone about what is happening

And those are just the things that are coming to mind, I'm sure there are things that I missed, but there's even more compelling questions. If the contestants are fake, then why do they need a place to go when eliminated if MePhone could make them not exist anymore? What about everything going on in Hotel OJ, Idiotic Island, and Indefinite Island without MePhone knowledge; especially for the last one since he didn't even know it existed until Ep10. If the BFDI crossovers and Nickel's early comments in S1 are to be believed, then at one point Nickel had somehow tried to join BFDI instead!

Even in II 16, we see that the contestants can have their life sucked out of them, which shouldn't be possible if they don't have souls, meaning that they have to. There's also how Bow and Dough are both ghosts and how everyone can be body-swapped in S3 Ep8, or even how MePhone can revive them in the first place with all of their memories and personality intact. None of this should be possible if the contestants are fake.

That's not even mentioning that we already know what a fake contestant looks like with the replicas that Spring made in S3 Ep13! They can't talk and they have few emotions, which is in complete opposition to everyone else in Inanimate Insanity.

Even if MePhone made them in the first place, there is so much saying that yes, the contestants are real.