#terrorists should not be welcome here

[cree-n-jewish-thoughts]

Please help get rid of Dr Hassan Diab, a convicted terrorist who evaded the French law.

They have a criminal teaching students at a post secondary level.

If anyone is from France , dr Diab is teaching in Ottawa at Carleton.

He has not even served his entire sentence, so he is illegally in this country and should be sent back to France to finish his sentence.

Canada is now guilty of aiding and abetting a terrorist wanted by another country we are allied with.

Please share this. Someone have him thrown back in prison or at least removed from his status as a professor at the university of Carleton teaching socioeconomics.

Please help.

Canada needs help right now.

[lemedstudent2021]

You dont need to be Palestinian or Arab or Muslim, you just need to be human.

Sympathetic to Israel only a few days ago, American-Israeli YouTuber, Ethan Klein, breaks down in tears as he talks about some of the videos he’s seen out of Gaza..

[roach-works]

ok im waffling on about fallout instead of having breakfast but i saw a criticism of how the prisoners were treated that's stuck with me.

spoilers!

so i think the criticism wasn't incorrect, per se: it condemned the way the show portrayed the vault dweller's naive intention to rehabilitate their murderous captives. it found fault with a common, and horrible, message that tv shows like to say, which is that carcerial violence and even the death penalty is the only effective way to deal with criminals, who are a fundamentally Bad category of human. im sick of that message too! but i think that wasn't what was going on here, actually.

so like, the vault dwellers had only ever experienced violent loss the once, and didn't really know how to cope other than denial and repression of the ordeal. but they were all hopeful and enthusiastic that their prisoners, the invaders that came to kill them all and take their stuff, could be eventually welcomed into the community as their comrades. the champions of this cause were nebbishy dorks and painfully out of touch academics. this is pretty normal for how prison reformers are portrayed, if extremely fucking annoying for those of us who ARE in favor of prison reform.

but so of course when the son of the former overseer, Norm, speaks up and suggests killing the prisoners, because why should they share resources with invaders who explicitly wanted to keep hurting them? why should they show mercy to their attackers? everyone is appalled by this suggestion. because they had to reinvent the whole concept of vengeance right then and there, because grudges and cycles of violence are anathema to a bottle society like theirs. they have been raised all their lives to forgive and forget and now, put to the test, they're recommitting to this ethos: get along, let the past go, look towards the future, believe the best of everyone.

but the prisoners die, anyway. the prisoners are killed with rat poison. and the thing is that Norm who suggested it didn't do it himself. and the prison guard who's blamed for it, even though she privately agreed with Norm that the prisoners are dangerous and unforgiveable, she didn't do it either. it's not a moment of triumphant, cathartic vengeance and it doesn't prove that there's no way to negotiate with terrorists and invaders but kill them like vermin because that's not what the message is meant to be.

the message is that norm stands there in the middle of these inconvenient prisoners, these corpses dressed in his own people's uniforms, and he looks at the new overseer. and he knows that she killed them, and she knows that he knows. she wanted him to know. this is her message and he's reading her loud and clear. and he doesn't look like a guy who's just been backed up by authority, who's just been validated in his desire for the ultimate control over those who have wronged him.

he's scared and pale and the music is ominous as fuck. and he's inside the cell, he's directly in the middle of it.

because what just happened is that he realized his entire society is being held prisoner, and the overseer is the one with the rat poison. and that he doesn't know, anymore, what freedom and safety and justice actually mean, just that he doesn't have them and he doesn't know where to find them.

that's what that scene meant. not that rehabilitative justice is a pathetic delusion of people who have no idea how to make hard choices.

but that before you advocate for killing prisoners, you might want to see how big that prison is, first.

and which side of the bars you're standing on.

[tarre-was-right]

ROUND TWO: MATCH-UP TWO

Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.

Explanation post

Seeding

Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here!

New Propaganda

Anon: My propaganda for Bo-Katan vs Cody specifically: Bo-Katan quite literally spends her whole life trying to restore Mandalore. She works hard and tries to right her wrongs, and she does in the end. She wants what's best for Mandalore, even if it comes at a cost (she was willing to trade the Darksaber in for Mandalore's safety!!!). - Meanwhile Cody is not even a Mandalorian.

Bo-Katan Kryze

Anon: Bo-Katan propaganda: she babysat a Jedi child without the child dying or killing anyone and leading a planet is basically just babysitting a child on a big scale right

Anon: Bo-Katan spent like three years as a terrorist but she also spent 30 years rebelling against fascists so idk I'm willing to hear her out on this. Welcome back Princess Leia 👏

Anon: As Satine's sister, she would have received much the same early training and education in how to rule their Duchy on Kalevala, as she alluded to in her comments in The Mandalorian - while her involvement in Death Watch is perhaps not a mark in her favor, she did seemingly have many years of experience working as Pre Vizsla's lieutenant, and earned the trust of many of his followers who defected to follow her following Pre's death and Maul's claiming of the Darksaber and throne of Mandalore, forming the bulk of her fighting force during her efforts to reclaim that throne during the Siege of Mandalore - during the Rebels timeline, she has lost the throne once again due to an Imperial-backed coup, but seems to have been working to resist the Empire's rule; during this time, she is chosen to be the figurehead and rallying point of that apparently unsuccessful effort - finally, during the time of The Mandalorian, she has been rallying the surviving clans to reclaim the Darksaber as a stepping stone for reuniting their people; after her work with Din Djarin and the Armorer, she once again is selected by her people to be their leader as they work to rebuild their reclaimed home planet

Anon: Bo-Katan should be the Mand'alor because, while having done a LOT of shit, she tried her best to free Mandalore from the Empire and to give her people the safety they lost when the New Mandalorian Government fell - She worked to redeem herself, and she got back up every time she fell. She united the people of Mandalore from every aspect and kept the warrior traditions alive

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: Literally the only reason I can think of for Bo-Katan to rule is that she’s stubborn. She doesn’t stop trying to get Mandalorians organized and on their homeworld. Kinda a Robert the Bruce and a spider in a cave style parable, except instead of the English she’s trying to fight her own bad actions/behavior towards others

Anon: Bo-Katan propaganda: you know that quote about "It's hard for a good man to be king?" Well considering she's a terrible person she'd actually be pretty good at ruling Mandalore.

COMMANDER CODY

Anon: Propaganda for Commander Cody: - Cody was a student of Alpha-17, who in turn had been personally trained by former Mand'alor Jango Fett, giving him a strong training lineage claim to the title - Cody's service as Marshall Commander in the GAR gave him a lot of the diplomatic, organizational, and military experience needed to govern a planet like Mandalore

@spacetime1969: This man has led more people at once than anyone on this list.

Anon: Cody should be Mand'alor because it would be unspeakably sexy

@cha0s-cat: Cody has experience with negotiating from accompanying Obi-Wan, he leads a massive amount of his brothers already. Can recognize when there is a need for negotiations vs a need for violence. This would balance out the majority of the two factions (pacifists/traditionalists) excluding the extremists on either end. And with the amount of chaos that he has to deal with when it comes to Obi-Wan and Anakin, this would probably be relaxing.

@skykind: - Has resisted fascism and its attendant police/military state at great personal risk (Bad Batch 2.3), which is apparently necessary to successfully govern Mandalore so long as Death Watch is fully armed and also backed by someone more cunning than their usual leadership (Clone Wars 5.15). - Possesses exceptional leadership and organizational ability from his time as one of the highest-ranked Clone officers of the GAR. The Clone Wars and Bad Batch narratives furthermore present him as Obi-Wan’s peer, so he should be interpreted as equally skilled, wise, kind, and unhinged-in-battle as Obi-Wan. Jury’s out on the sarcasm. - Turns to diplomacy before fighting (Bad Batch 2.3). - Has caught a Jedi’s lightsaber mid-battle at least two times (Clone Wars 1.20 and Revenge of the Sith). This is a very useful skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who keep chucking the darksaber about. - Has returned a lightsaber to a Jedi at least two times. This is a crucial skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who should stop selecting said leader via darksaber acquisition.

@antianakin: [From the Boba vs Cody poll] So in a very practical sense, if I'm just looking at it with the question of "Who actually has the skills to be a good leader of people" [between Boba and Cody] then the answer is undoubtedly Cody. Cody was trained his entire life presumably to be a Commander in a large army and seems to do that very successfully for three years. He seems fairly humble, has good teamwork skills, he's kind and understanding and merciful, and he's a very skilled fighter. All of this would serve him exceedingly well if he chose to take on a leadership position, on Mandalore or otherwise. - The one downside to Cody is that Cody shows exactly zero interest in Mandalore at all. Cody does not identify as a Mandalorian at any point and never seems like he'd want to, let alone LEAD the Mandalorians. I do not personally see Cody actually being WILLING to lead Mandalore if offered the opportunity, even if he'd definitely have the skills to do so. I feel like if it were offered to him or fell into his lap somehow, he'd just pass it off immediately to the next most qualified person who was interested in it. Mandalore is not his problem or his responsibility and he's not about to change that.

[fromgoy2joy]

I have been… biting my tongue from saying things. 

Partially because I’m not “really Jewish” (on the way to it via conversion), and because I didn’t want this blog to be political. 

But I realize I want this page to be a safe space. If anyone takes issue with what I’m about to say, I don’t want them on this page. 

I joined the college jewish community very shortly after 10/7 and was immediately welcomed in. There was no separation between me and the girl who had gone to orthodox shul all her life and was the head of the state youth group. I was told explicitly  “you are one of us. And together, we are mourning. We have lost our people and so have you.” 

Still I felt no authority to speak on things as insidious as antisemitism until recently. But how many times do you have to experience an antisemitic incident until you get to stand up? 

Six. The answer is six. 

Since explicitly aligning myself with Jewishness, I have lost friends who told me I have “dual loyalties” in so many words. I’ve been ostracized in events because we were singled out . I’ve been followed back to my dorm room from events by people hurling genocide accusations at me- white girls wearing keffiyahs who don't know anything about the Nakba when I try to connect with them about how awful it was.

My face was used in a local “fight jew hate” campaign” where I’m in a group of people with clearly middle eastern descent. But what circulated around my campus was my blonde hair and blue eyes, with people using laughing emojis.

“This is who we’re supposed to be defending!? Bitch please! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣” 

(Which is perfectly ironic because they singled out the person who wasn't ethnically Jewish and focused on her. )

Campus security and the disciplinary office knows me quite well from all the reports I've filed whether for me or other people.

I leave campus for breaks. Even though I’m returning to my highly Catholic conservative family, I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't have to look over my shoulder constantly or check myself in the surroundings I'm in. I already feel the dread about returning in January.

What hurts is the blindness- the lack of nuance- that is being given. Every single Jewish person at my school is not a self described zionist, other than that they acknowledge Jewish indignity to the land, and that there was a reason for the creation of Israel- not even justification in the current state or the matter it came about.

But they- and we- shouldn't have to prove ourselves. We shouldn't be debating if we should fundraise for Gazans (we are) in case someone accuses us of "lying about our intentions" or if we'd be pointed out as "the good jews!" They shouldn't have to have a tab open on their computer for Israeli passports, even though they desperately don't want to leave the United States. I shouldn't have to wonder whenever I'm at a synagogue "If I get killed here in a terrorist attack before being immersed in the mikvah, will I get a Catholic or Jewish funeral?"

But that never mattered. Our voices never did. Unless the antisemitism came from a high school dropout neo-nazi with a shaved head and swastika jacket, it's never going to matter.

I will never forget- even as I advocate for Palestinians, call for a ceasefire, and donate. Or any other cause where I'll be marching besides these activists I can never call well meaning.

I could go on and on about it. But I won't be able to write it out in this post.

All I know is when the counsel of rabbis ask me if I'm ready to be apart of an unpopular group, I'm going to have to fight myself from laughing at the question

[theroundbartable]

My position on the war in Israel/ Palestine

Below the cut, because this is my opinion, and you are, of course, not expected to share it, or even care about my position at all. You might not even like what I have to say.

This is for myself and for the people who decide whom to follow based on the flags I raise in my bio (which is none).

It's a bit long, sorry.

The war in Israel/Palestine has now been going on for over a year and I keep seeing blogs that are entirely pro palestine, and then others who are entirely Israeli, accusing each other of rape and murder and genocide, of antisemitism and zionism, etc. etc. Most of these accusations were fact checked and true. Some arguments I heard of people were quite obviously formed through what their government told them, might even lied to them about. I cannot blame these people for clinging to faith, to clinging to the vague idea that there is a sense to their suffering, or who are trying to deflect of their own guilt.

I am German. I know the arguments. I know why they exist and I cannot blame people who's life might be depending on that hope, who's sanity might depend on that faith.

So far, I have not really posted my own opinion on it and I understand that my position on this is not a common one. Nor is it one that many people will accept or find satisfying. Never the less, this is my point.

Under normal circumstances, I would never have made a post and I already am very late to the debate, but since elections in the US are up and more dangerous than ever, since the debates and the war lead to attacks on people online and world wide, since all this enables the same fascistic views that once dominated my country and are threatening to dominate the field once again, I think I should at least say something.

I need to, in order to make up the the past my grandfather took part in as a German soldier, to honor my grandmother's memory who welcomed refugees of war and "war criminals" who were stationed in the neighboring Arbeitslager in her home; in her home where she was all alone with her sick father and waited for the news of her brothers falling in the war while the polish captive cooked them dinner and taught her to read. I need to, as someone who's ancestors were both shooting and housing their enemies. As someone who carries both the guilt and the pride into the next generation.

This is not a football game.

I can't go and pick a side and root for their win. I can't go out on the street with other students and hold up "free palestine" signs, when I know that the words are war propaganda from a group of terrorists. I can't go and side with Israel and justify a genocide by telling people they are being antisemitic if they criticise the Israeli government.

It is the Israeli government under Netanjahu, it is the Hamas who are fighting this war, and to say that the people under their leadership aren't in on it is naive to a degree.

We are not talking about winning and losing here. Because there are no winners in war. I CANNOT debate on who's human rights are worth more than the other. I CANNOT ignore that the Hamas started the war, I cannot ignore that they abuse their captives, I cannot excuse that the Israeli government shoots back at hospitals and abuses their own captives as well.

I can't choose between the grays, because to me, they are the same shade.

But to say they are all supporting those leaderships, to say that not most of them are just trying to survive is terrifyingly cold. That would be like saying they deserve what is happening to them and that can never be the truth.

This doesn't mean I'm not judging between the two. I judge the obvious violence on both sides, I fear for the victims on both accounts, I hate the idea that categorises who is allowed to live where in the country, I despise the idea that Israel alone is to blame.

"You can't not pick a side."

I did. Because there is not just two sides to this war. There is three or four, perhaps even more than that.

There is the terror organisation, there is the government, and then there is the people stuck in the crossfire. I refuse to side with the criminals. I refuse to side with the abusers. They are both wrong, they are both murderous and violent, and siding with one would be - for me - like pointing the gun at the other.

That said, I do not believe that people who raise the palestine flags are wrong, neither do I judge the Israel one. Both sides deserve justice for what happend and what continues to happen. But to a German who only raises the flag once every four yeara at soccer games, worshipping the government that is doing all this, that feels wrong. I know that my view is distorted because of my family's Nazi history, but I can't help feeling that way.

If we're talking about violence, justice would mean that more violence is the answer. An eye for an eye is justice too, but this will never result in peace.

Quite honestly, I don't even think a two state solution would be the answer either. It could be, if Hamas and Israel wanted peace. If Natanjahus war wasn't a ploy to keep himself in power. As it is right now, with the war expanding, even if they managed to somewhat put down their weapons, they will continue to be neighboring enemies, they will continue to hate each other and they will continue to never forgive, to never forget, justifying future reasons to war.

Honestly, I'm not arrogant enough to say I know the solution. All I know is that I know where I stand. And I will never, under any circumstances, judge you if you live in Isreal or in palestine. Nor will I judge you for fighting for each of their rights. Because unless you wish for the complete destruction of the other, unless you justify a genocide, then I am on your side. Because you are, in this war, on your own. And I don't want to see you there alone.

And I will not raise your flag, I will not raise the flag of your enemy, I don't even raise my own flags because I'm honestly not that much into soccer. Because I separate you and your life from the system you live in.

All I can do is tell you that if you flee to Germany, I will be one of the people voting for your safety, for your right to stay, and for being properly integrated. I will not side with the right wing fascists that dominate this country. I will not side with people who simply picked their favorite oppressor. It's not enough to save you. But I'm not a hero. I can only refuse to be the villain.

This makes my position obviously debatable, to some even unacceptable, and I understand that it's not very satisfying to read this from someone who is lucky and priviledged enough to watch from the sidelines.

But I simply cannot support either of these systems. Because neither of them value human life, let alone human rights.

[multific]

When He Comes Home Late for Date Night - Modern Warfare Men Preferences

Modern Warfare Men x Fem!Reader

John Price

John looked at his watch before letting out a sigh.

He was late. Terribly late, and yet he was still determined.

He arrived at his home, opening and closing the door before walking straight into the living room.

There, he found you sitting on the couch eating some snacks as you watched a movie.

"John! Welcome home!" you said before turning back to the movie on TV.

John stood there, stunned.

Tonight was supposed to be date night, and he was late, he was expecting to find you fuming, but you looked calm.

Unless this was a new technique.

"Hi, Darling."

"How was work?" you asked, not looking at him.

"The usual."

"I put your food in the fridge." John walked to the kitchen opening the fridge slowly, as if expecting it to explode, but nothing happened.

He pulled out the plate and re-heat the food. Smelling it.

Could it be poisoned? No, you wouldn't go that far... or would you? 

But John found the food to be delicious. He sat at the table when you joined him, opening a beer for him as you drank some water.

"Did something happen?" you asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You are usually late when something happened...another bad guy?" John let out a sigh.

"Guess you can say that. I kind of expected for you to..."

"Flip out?" you laughed as he nodded. "Well, no point in doing that, I know you couldn't do anything about it, if you are busy, it is what it is unfortunately. We will have a date when the time is right."

"You are an angel." he smiled as he finished his plate.

Even when you met, John knew he won the lottery with you. 

Simon Riley

Simon opened the door fearfully, he feared no man, but the anger of his wife was greater than any terrorist he could ever face.

After about five more minutes he opened the door only to find the house completely silent.

Your dog rushed to him, excited to see his other owner home but other than that, nothing.

"Where's your mother?" Simon asked the German Shepperd who excitedly ran off into the house. Simon headed to the kitchen for a drink and found a note on the fridge.

'Simon,

I had a feeling you would be late, I bet you were scared shitless that I would be angry. These things happen, please don't worry. 

I made you food, it's in the fridge if you want it.

I'm off to sleep now, because I am a grandma and I need my beauty sleep.

Love ya,

Your Wifey'

Simon smiled at the note before heading into the bedroom, he found you there on the bed, sleeping soundly.

He placed a kiss to your temple before he headed for a quick shower.

Johnny MacTavish

Johnny knew this wasn't good. He was supposed to be home, hours ago! He jumped out of his car and rushed into the house.

He could hear music playing somewhere in the house.

"Bonnie?"

"Bath." came a simple reply.

Johnny almost doubled over when he arrived in the bathroom. Scented candles were lit, the tub filled with water which he can only assume you put at least two bathbombs, your hair was pulled back in a bun, in one hand a glass of wine in the other your favourite book.

"Good to see you Johnny." you said sipping your wine. "I decided since you were late to turn date-night into me-night." you said before you turned back to your book.

"Bonnie, it's almost 1am."

"And? I don't have work tomorrow or should I say, today?"

"Are you not... angry?"

"Why would I be? I know your line of work, when you were an hour late, I ordered some pizza and done some skin care. It's not your fault that Captain Price likes to talk about every little detail months before a mission. Be a darling and pour me some more wine please?" 

Johnny was truly stunned. He grabbed the bottle, noting how it was half empty before he poured you some. 

"Did you say pizza? Do we have some left?"

"On the counter. Be quick because I'm almost done here, I believe you have some apologizing to do."

"Apologize? You said you are not angry."

"I'm not, but I thought it would be the perfect ending for my perfect night."

"Alright, Bonnie." he quickly kissed your cheek before he disappeared down the hallway. 

Kyle Garrick

Kyle was sure he was a dead man.

No way he is going to survive this. He was ready to lose everything.

The last time he arrived home late, he barely made it out alive with you being pregnant at the time, your hormones were crazy.

So, again, he prepared for the worst.

With your daughter seven months old, she slept through the nights. You and Kyle decided to have a quiet night and once she was asleep, you would have a nice date in the kitchen.

But of course, his job had other ideas.

Kyle entered his home quietly but it was anything but quiet inside.

He could hear the cries coming from upstairs.

He rushed up the stairs and soon found you in the hallway, pacing, trying to calm your little one.

"She just has been crying for hours now, I don't know what to do." you said as Kyle got her from your hands and placed her on his chest, slowly bouncing her.

She almost immediately calmed down and fell asleep.

"Thank you. She must have been missing you." you said as you let out a sigh, blessed silence. 

"You said she cried for hours?"

"I assume hours, I am partially deaf to my left ear now." you giggled as Kyle smiled.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"Oh, I didn't even notice the time!" you looked at the clock on the wall. "I didn't even cook, all we have are leftovers."

"Leftovers will be perfect, let me put the little Princess down." Kyle gave you a quick kiss before he went to the nursery and put his daughter to sleep. With one last kiss to her forehead, Kyle turned her night lamp on before leaving the room. 

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro hated to be late.

He was always a very punctual person.

But these things can unfortunately happen.

But he still hated it.

He wanted to go home early and spend the night with you since his mother had your children for the weekend.

Alejandro just didn't expect to get called in on a Saturday.

He was rather angry with himself but when he found you on the couch, surrounded by pizza boxes and soft drinks, his anger turned to confusion.

"Mi Amor?"

"Welcome home! I was a bit... hungry."

"I can see. Five pizza?"

"I also have ice cream and...brownies."

"The last time you ate this much was when you were pregnant." Alejandro giggled but you stayed too quiet so he also froze in his place. "Are-Are you?"

"Surprise?"

"DIOS MIO!"

"I wanted to tell you during dinner but then you were late and I got hungry! Sorry. I had it all planned too!"

"My Goddess! Three?! Are we about to have three children? I am going to be a dad again?!"

Alejandro watched you pull out an envelope and you handed it to him.

He opened and it is a paper he had seen in his life before, twice.

"You are pregnant... six weeks." he looked up at you.

"Yes. And I craved pizza, I saw they had one with fish then I saw the pepperoni and the corn and by the time I knew I had ordered five... I ordered so much they gave me free drinks and ice cream. Are you happy?"

"About the baby or the pizza?"

"...both?" He rushed to give you a hug.

"I am thrilled! I thought you would skin me for being late and here you are, My Angel, perfect, with pizza and pregnant! I couldn't ask for more." you smiled at him as he pulled you in for a kiss.

Soon, you both sat down as you ate all five of the pizza and watched movies.

Maybe being late wasn't such a bad thing.

König

König was ready for the worst.

He didn’t meant for his training to go on for so long. He lost track of time once he was practicing his shooting.

With a rose bouquet in his hand he entered the house, scared of what he might find inside.

He was prepared for you being angry, he was prepared for you punching him.

What he wasn’t prepared for is you sleeping soundly with your cat cuddled up to your side. 

He took a step forward only to check on you and the floor made a noise under his weight.

It woke you up a little.

“Liebling, it’s only me.”

“Ah, okay, baby. Long day?” you asked, not even opening your eyes.

“Yes.”

“Alright, shower and cuddle.” you said before you turned back, ready to sleep once more.

König did exactly as you said, he showered and soon joined you. 

“Are you not angry with me?” he asked as you moved to sleep on his chest.

“No. I kinda forgot that today was supposed to be date night. I went shopping and came home late.”

He only nodded. At least you weren’t waiting for him.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[h0rnyauth0r]

könig saves you during your first mission working with his team, and you develop a huge crush on him! he likes you too, so you decide to fuck <3 (also i included the name of one character from the game, she's really pretty so i wanted to include her on the side lol)

I NEVER REALIZED THAT I WAS IN LOVE WITH HIM UNTIL NOW AND IT'S BAD.

dni if young pls! <3

word count: 4.3k (i literally want to fuck him so bad. if he and ghost would tag team me i would literally die happy. i'd sell my soul and crawl to the ends of the earth for them to just demolish me. thank you.)

tws: reader with vagina, unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, choking, cumming inside, idk what else honestly.

you can feel the anxiety coursing through your veins as you step onto the platform, fully dressed and prepared for the plane ride to your mission. you’re new to the kortac team, having worked with calisto a few times but having no other experience with the group.

you know nothing other than everyone’s names, but they seem welcoming enough. that’s the least of your worries, you just don’t want to fuck up and ruin the mission for everyone else.

it’s not long before you’re seated on the plane, strapped in as you prepare for the ride. your orders are to eliminate a terrorist group that has stationed themselves in a rural town. they murdered most of the townsfolk and are planning an attack on the united states.

you’ve been ordered to remain stealthy with these targets, as there are more of them than there are of your group. it would be far too easy to end up dead if not careful, so you’re going to be as slow and quiet as possible.

the base you were stationed at wasn’t too far from the area you’ll be landing at, just an hour long flight. you will be walking and infiltrating from there, hopefully not raising any attention when the plane drops you off.

you’ve tried ignoring your only distraction among these plans, which just so happens to be one of your team members. the large man never spoke to you, but calisto said he suffers from social anxiety so he’s likely going to remain silent around you.

as much as it sucks, you can’t help but find him so intriguing. he’s attractive, even with his face hidden. seeing nothing but his dark eyes staring at you when you first showed up caused a heat to rise in your pants that you’d rather not admit exists.

and so you decided to avoid him, not wanting to do anything that may make him uncomfortable. feeling attracted to him makes you feel guilty, so the mission will be your top priority now.

you decide to occupy yourself by sorting through your pouches, noting that every item you need is there. you nearly forgot your throwing knives back at the base, but luckily you managed to grab them as you were heading out.

everything seems satisfactory as you close up your final pouch resting on your thigh. you can feel someone staring at you, so you look up and notice könig’s eyes on your body.

your eyes meet with his and he looks away, turning his head to the right. your face feels hot as you look down and decide to fiddle around with the straps on your pants.

you feel like a teenager again, taking deep breaths to calm down as you notice the feeling of the plane descending to the ground. as it does so, you finally unstrap your body from the seating and meet up at the front of the plane.

the group is there, listening to the captain remind everyone of the task at hand and what should be done for now. after you’re done here, the government will do cleanup for you. 

your head is finally clear as you grab onto one of the guns at the base of the plane and quickly exit, separating from the large group and breaking off into smaller sections.

the set of buildings is about a 10 minute walk, and you jog forward towards the terrorist area. it’s night, but the place is well-lit. it will be difficult to maintain stealth, but taking out the guards will make it easier.

you opt to do that once you approach, noticing your team take the furthest ones out as you sneak further in and use your knives on the majority of them.

the mission continues rather smoothly as you approach the building you have been assigned to, climbing through one of the windows and stabbing one of the people hidden inside.

you notice there’s a lot of different forms of terroristic propaganda in the room, flags and flyers amongst others. you decide to look around for anything of value to mention to your captain but find nothing, heading out and into one of the many halls.

as you walk down the hall, you can hear talking. panic rises in your chest as you notice several men racing towards you, freezing in place as you try to find anywhere to go.

it’s difficult to see, but a hand grasps onto your wrist and slams you into a gap in the walls. you look up with a panic, calming down once you notice könig looking down at you with a finger pressed against where his mouth likely is.

“quiet.” he whispers, body pressing against you and causing your face to heat up with embarrassment. your head is against his chest as the people walk by, somehow not noticing your bodies pressed together in the small space.

when they pass by, the two of you both throw knives at the same time. two of the men drop, but the others notice and turn towards you. that’s when you decide to go for it and quickly shoot them with your pistol, running down the hallway as other gunshots begin raining out.

the others have begun shooting, meaning that now is the time to quickly take these people out before they call more to the area. you pick up a radio from one of the many bodies left out, listening in for information but not understanding the language being spoken.

you decide to carry on with könig for now, sweeping different rooms and eventually making your way to a different floor. after a lot of work and almost running out of ammo a few times, your radio sounds.

“all clear. head out of the buildings and we can have a meeting once we get back to base.” your captain says, and you send an acknowledgement forward.

you notice that könig hasn’t spoken to you as you both walk out of the building with the others, but you decide to speak up. “thank you. i probably would’ve died if you weren’t there.” your voice is shaky as you talk, feeling a little worried about making him uncomfortable.

he nods his head. “you are welcome.”

your interactions are very rare for a while after that, but he eventually warms up to you more. sometimes you will sit together for meals, and sometimes partner up during missions.

in the back of your mind, that lust for him never quite goes away. it hits you hard when you have a wet dream while staying on a foreign base, hours before an important mission.

your panties soaked through, thighs trembling, and clit unbearably hard. your dream consisted of him fucking you hard on a table in front of everyone, which felt so humiliating but so exhilarating at the same time.

you felt too embarrassed to look at him for a few days, trying so hard to avoid another dream like that. thankfully you don’t, and after a month you manage to move on and continue like before.

the feelings for him never fade, though. you notice it one day during a mission when he gently puts a hand on your back to lead you through a building, butterflies building up in your stomach just from his touch.

it happens a few times here and there, often during missions you notice. he’ll just barely touch you for a moment, and let go seconds later. it flusters you every single time, and makes it very difficult to focus at times.

today is no different, the two of you working together to stop a group of russians from going through with an attack. after the mission has ended, you’re both scaling the building to make sure that there aren’t any escapees or survivors.

after it’s been settled, he gently pulls on your arm while you head out. your eyes look down at where his large hand is and you find your face heating up again. you almost feel like a teenager again with how flustered you become, but you just continue about.

you’ll be staying in a small house with the others, designed to be a place to reconvene and discuss the details of what had gone on. thankfully, you don’t have to share a room tonight.

part of you wants to though, specifically with the austrian man who constantly takes over your thoughts. you shake that thought out of your head as you continue walking into the house, finding the room you were assigned to and deciding to finally change into regular clothing.

after changing, you finally go into the living room area and see others gathered together. you notice how könig has decided to keep his face cover on, which disappoints you mildly but you understand that he probably has his reasons.

you take a seat on a small couch by yourself, noticing the way he decides to take a look at you before slyly meandering his way over to you and sitting beside you. you try your best to not get flustered and listen in on what the others are saying about your assignment.

it’s not long before you zone out, bored of this already. your eyes just barely glance over to könig and you notice the way his large legs are spread out, an elbow placed against his knee as he boredly leans forward with his eyes lidded shut.

he looks so fucking hot right now and you don’t understand why. he’s doing something so simple, but yet it sends shivers down your spine and you can’t find the courage to take your eyes off of him.

you do, though, once his eyes flutter over to yours. you become flustered instantly, deciding to quickly lean away and focus on the window beside you. you nearly jump out of your skin when one of his hands just barely touches your thigh.

you swallow hard, glancing down and seeing the way his hand squeezes on your tight pants. it’s such a small act, but you want to take him into your room and make him fuck you until there’s nothing left in your head other than the thought of his cock.

now you’re trying especially hard to pay attention, wanting nothing more than to make your intentions obvious. just his hand touching your thigh makes you this stupid, you need to pay attention more before something bad may happen.

after a few more minutes of talking, you notice that everyone decides that you can continue discussing in the morning as it’s gotten rather late. calisto mentions that relaxation would be better than working right now, and you can’t help but agree with her words.

however, relaxing is the least of what you want right now. the only thing you want is sitting beside you, watching your every breath and movement. you’re trying your best to play it cool, but you can tell that you’re bad at it.

his hand suddenly leaves you and you’re looking to your left where he’s sat, noticing the way he stands up and stretches the slightest amount. you’re biting down harshly on your bottom lip as your eyes land between his legs. how did you not notice the absolutely massive bulge in his pants before?

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to just push the thoughts of him away. but he makes it rather difficult when he reaches a hand out, and you take it.

“would you like to come with me?” he asks you.

yes, you’re thinking, in more ways than one.

you nod your head thoughtlessly, feeling the small tug as he begins walking you away from your team and down the hallway. your legs already feel like jelly, anticipation bubbling up and causing your breathing to pick up slightly.

you don’t know what’s going to happen, maybe it’s nothing. but you feel your skin become hotter as he leads you to your room, almost sweating as you notice the way he closes and even locks the door.

the way you’re standing there blankly is embarrassing for you, not knowing what to do. your thighs are pressed together tightly, your eyes on his body as he walks up to you. one of his hands reaches out and touches your face, and you can barely breathe as his fingers brush over your lips.

you look into his eyes in that moment, noticing the want that shows in his too. you find yourself reaching out and touching the hood covering his face, beginning to pull it up slowly. his body goes stiff for a moment, before he relaxes and nods at you to continue.

you almost hesitate, but pull it off. you gulp when you notice his features, and just how good looking he really is. his lips look so kissable, a nice jawline, and you can’t help but fall further into the depths of wanting him.

you can feel your body shaking as you look into his eyes, feeling one of his hands reach out and touch your waist. you’re not sure what to do or even say as you look at one another, before he looks away and speaks up softly.

“can i kiss you?”

you use your hand to turn his face toward yours as you nod, leaning closer to his body as your lips finally meet. his lips are so very soft and for a small kiss, it has you dizzy with pleasure and you can feel your clit throbbing in your pants.

when your lips pull away, he’s grabbing onto you and leading you to the bed that’s next to you, pushing your body down onto the bed as he leans over you. his hands are on either side of your head, strong thigh pressed in between your legs and pushing into your core.

he leans down to you and your lips are connected again, this time in a much more heated manner. you groan out against his lips, tongues intertwining as he moves feverishly against you. when his thigh pushes against you again, you squeak into his mouth and your toes curl in the slightest.

you end up unconsciously grinding your hips into his thigh as you kiss, breathing heavily into his mouth before his lips move down to your neck and he bites down hard. the action has you gasping out loudly, quickly covering your mouth with a hand as he looks to you.

“no, don’t do that. i want to hear every little noise you make for me.”

his voice is much deeper than normal, sending shivers down your spine as you move your hand away from your mouth. he begins sucking on your neck, certainly leaving marks that you’ll have to worry about in the morning but you couldn’t care less in the moment.

the way he moves along your throat sends your head back into the pillow, hands fisting the sheets as your eyes shut tightly. you feel his hands touch your tits, squeezing and feeling you up. the feeling sends shocks to your core, biting down on your lip harshly.

he pulls back and begins tugging on your shirt, and you open your eyes and lift your back up so he can take your shirt off. he looks down to your bra and back up to you, quickly unclasping it and tossing it to the side along with your shirt.

as he looks at your body, a hand reaches out and plays with your nipples. you moan quietly, biting down on your lip as you look at him. “schön.” he mutters under his breath, fingers pinching gently before he eventually starts fiddling with the waistband of your pants.

you gaze up at him, “can you take that off?” your voice is quiet as you point to his shirt, and he nods the smallest amount as he does so. your eyes immediately look over his chest, almost bulging out of your head as you admire him.

you knew he’d be muscular, but he’s so much hotter than you ever thought he’d be. with his broad shoulders and all, the sight of his abs and just how toned he is makes you almost drool.

you’re certain that you’re in love with him now.

“you’re hot.” you say, eyes looking back up at his to see him sheepishly smile for a moment. seeing him after so long makes you want him so much more, and you’re not sure how you’ve held back for as long as you have.

he grasps onto your hips for a moment, squeezing harshly as he looks over your naked top half. he decides to tug your pants down and off of your body, leaning you in nothing but your panties now. you feel embarrassed when you look down and see that there’s a very prominent wet patch.

but when his eyes look down and see it, he just brings a finger down and brushes it against you. “you’re so wet for me.” his finger reaches into your panties and pulls them aside, gently rubbing against your clit and making you bite down harshly on your bottom lip.

he moves his body down towards your crotch, finally pulling your panties off of your body as his head dips down and he begins kissing your thighs. you can feel yourself becoming more wet, dripping even, as his lips make their way to your folds.

the way his tongue teases you for a moment makes you anticipate him devouring your pussy more, and when his tongue swipes against your clit you’re crying out desperately.

his lips and tongue move against your clit as a finger pushes against your hole and quickly thrusts into you. as his fingers pick up momentum, his tongue does too, and soon enough your hands are tangled in his hair.

you tug against him, hips grinding against his face for more than he can give. he adds a second finger, thrusting harder and making you moan more and more. you’re ashamed to admit how close you are already, but you whimper out the word ‘close’ and he acknowledges it by moving faster.

the sounds echoing in the room are your moans and the lewd squelching of your pussy, and you’re hoping that nobody can hear the noises through the door or the walls. his fingers amplify the noise as they thrust harder and begin curling up into you.

the feeling of his tongue circling your clit sends you closer to the edge, moans becoming more breathy and toes curling hard- before he pulls back completely.

your eyebrows furrow as you look at him, whining in frustration. “w-why?” your clit almost hurts now, pussy feeling empty and abandoned as your whole orgasm is ruined and taken from you in such a cruel manner. but he just stares down at you smugly, climbing off of the bed to remove his pants and eventually his underwear too.

“i think i’d rather you cum on my cock.” his words make your whole body heat up, noticing the way his cock springs up when he pulls his underwear down. even his cock is hot to you, long and thick and leaking a small amount at the tip.

you bite down on your lip as you stare, wanting so badly to shove his entire cock down your throat until you’re crying and filled with his cum. but you look away, back up to him and notice the way he’s eyeballing your body as well.

he approaches you again, pushing your body down harshly and pulling your thighs to the edge of the bed. he tugs your legs open and his hand reaches for his cock and starts rubbing it against your clit and your soaking folds, sliding up and down before finally pushing the tip in.

your eyes roll back from the feeling, fingernails digging into his wrist that’s been placed beside your body on the bed. he’s barely pushed into you, but you’re already so full and so overwhelmed.

he pushes in slowly, the stretch making you arch your back against him and cry out. as each inch enters you further, you can eventually feel him begin pushing up against your cervix and you notice the way that tears begin to blur your vision.

it hurts how much he’s stretching you, but at the same time your cunt has turned into a complete waterfall with the way his cock hits every single sweet spot inside of you. you feel so full, but somehow even fuller when he bottoms out.

“so tight…” he says quietly, hands grabbing onto your hips as he slowly pulls out and pushes in. you’re crying now, moaning out his name from just the smallest of thrusts. his cock is massive, almost making you cum just from how big he is.

your eyes are clenched shut as he moves slowly, but hard. “please.” you say lowly. you want so much more, you want him to hurt you. all you want is for him to fuck you until you pass out right now, and he’s being far too gentle for you.

“please what?”

you swallow down the embarrassment now. “fuck me. please. hard, fast, i don’t care anymore.” you moan out, tears still streaming down your face as you feel his hips pull back and start moving more harsh against you.

as his hips pick up a more rough, fast pace, your moans are loud. they almost overtake the sound of his hips slamming into you, wet slapping sounds bouncing off of the walls and now absolutely likely to be heard from anyone who walks by.

even the bed starts creaking, his fingernails breaking the flesh of your hips as he thrusts into you. you’re looking at his face, noticing the way his jaw is clenched and sweat is gathering at his forehead. his chest is rising and falling quickly, fucking into you harder and harder.

it feels so good and you can just barely breathe, wanting him to completely ruin you. one of his hands moves up to your tits, squeezing hard as he leans down and sucks on them. he’s leaving dark purple marks on your skin, hips picking up a harder pace as your nails begin scratching against his back.

he leans up more, lips against yours now as he thrusts into you. he’s letting out small groans here and there, and the way he sounds makes you feel like you’re going to explode.

his teeth pull against your bottom lip, sucking in your lip roughly and drawing blood. the feeling makes you cry out against him, nails digging into his skin deeper as he thrusts into you harder.

as your tongues brush together, you feel his hand grasp onto your throat and push down the slightest amount. you feel yourself become dizzy with pleasure, your orgasm approaching at a fast pace with the feeling of his cock fucking into you harder.

“go on, cum on my cock.” his words are what take you off the edge.

your back arches once it finally hits, crying out against his mouth as your cunt clenches against his cock and gushes out more of your juices than before. your fingers cling onto his back as you come down from your high, his thrusts elongating the feeling of your orgasm.

you’re saying his name in a whimper as his grip on your throat tightens, your whole body shaking as tears flow from the overstimulation. his thrusts begin to get more frantic now, his own orgasm finally approaching after so long.

“gonna cum in you.” he says, voice rough with pleasure as you nod your head along with his words. you can barely see or even think straight, but his cum filling you up is something you crave now.

“please, fill me up.” you moan, gasping out in pleasure as his cock twitches and finally fills your cunt up to the rim. his cum is warm as he keeps thrusting, cum starting to leak out of you and make squelching noises from the force of his moving.

he lets out the prettiest moan afterwards, eyes clenched shut as he slowly comes to a stop with his dick sitting inside of you. you try to catch your breath once his hand is removed from your throat, eyes looking up at him with so much adoration.

you wipe away your tears, feeling his cock finally slide out of you and the sound of some of your combined juices dripping onto the floor beneath you. you look at his cock and see that it’s still large even when not erect, and you fall back onto the bed from how tired you are.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted that.” you say to him, eyes closing as you move your body so you’re laying down on the bed with your head on the pillow. 

“i’ve seen how you look at me. you’re very obvious with your feelings.” he says, and you hear him shuffling around before feeling something press against your pussy, noticing that he’s helping clean his cum up that’s leaking out.

you look down at him and grin. “really? i had no idea.”

he shakes his head, throwing the item he used to help clean you up into a nearby bin. he notices that you’ve kept yourself naked, shrugging and deciding to join you in the bed. as he lays down beside you, he pulls your body close to his and you rest your head against his chest.

you look up at him, “i quite like you. this isn’t something i only wanted as a one time thing. i’d like to be with you again, in so many different ways.”

he presses a finger to your lips, eyes shutting. “while i feel the same, i would prefer it if we both got some rest. i can guarantee that we will hear an earful in the morning.”

you feel your face turn hot in embarrassment as you nod, eyes shutting as you lean against him and decide to calm down. you feel like a puddle, and you’re really hoping that when morning comes there won’t be too much trouble.

--

taglist: @kovieky

(feel free to dm or send an ask to be on the taglist! i'll add anyone who wants to be added :))

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

The biggest news out of Israel today is of course that late last night, the government approved a deal with Hamas to release some of the hostages. Here are the details as reported on the news:

50 hostages will be released in 4 groups over the course of 4 days, during which there would be no fighting. Hamas said they will be women and kids, Israel will only be told who's being released the day before. Not all kids are being released. Israel in exchange will release 150 people convicted for terrorist activity. Hamas says it will use these 4 days to try and locate 20 more hostages to be released. Hamas says that some of the hostages are in the hands of smaller terrorist organizations, and some are also being held by civilian families. Just a reminder that some civilians from Gaza followed the terrorists into Israel once the border fence was torn down. Most probably just to loot the houses attacked by terrorists, but at least some partook in the killing of Israeli civilians. Here is a vid of one such man, riding a bicycle stolen from a murdered Israeli, bragging about having killed 3 family members...

For every additional hostage Hamas finds and releases beyond the 50 agreed upon, it will get 3 more convicted terrorists released. For every 10, it will get one more day without fighting, for a total possible break of 6 days. In addition, Israel will not be flying over Gaza, not airplanes and not drones, for 6 hours daily.

It's reported that the stop in fighting will start tomorrow (Thursday) at 10 in the morning. Based on past experience, you can expect Hamas to fire rockets at Israel even past 10, just to show it got the "last word" and Israel will have to contain this, in order to keep the whole deal from falling apart.

The ambivalence about the deal that I tried to express in yesterday's daily post is what I'm hearing almost across the board. People want the hostages who will be freed, they're afraid for the fate of those who won't be, and they're scared of how Hamas might use this break in the fighting.

I think the most infuriating thing Israelis have come across is people describing the deal as "hostage exchange." Multiple Israelis have posted to make the same point: the hostages kidnapped from Israel were all innocent. The prisoners that will be released were all convicted for violent activity. They did not murder, but they tried to.

I saw an interview with one Israeli mother who had survived an attempted murder by a terrorist. She discovered that the woman who committed that crime is one of the prisoners who might be released. The thing is, they used to live in the same neighborhood. The mother asked, "Why should my kid have to see every day the woman who tried to kill me?" Almagor, an Israeli organization for victims of terrorism, has petitioned the Israeli supreme court against the deal. It's not likely to work, as the supreme court has indicated in the past it has no jurisdiction over political decisions, only legal ones.

And of course there's the fear that more Israeli soldiers might pay the price for the fact that Hamas will use the break in the fighting to re-arm and learn from its failures so far. That's the better scenario. There's also the possibility that Hamas would do what they did on "The Black Friday" in 2014. On Aug 1, a ceasefire with Hamas was supposed to start at 8 in the morning. At 9:05 Hamas terrorists used a terror tunnel to attack Israeli soldiers, murder them and kidnap the body of one of them, Hadar Goldin. Nine years later, the body has not yet been returned.

Today is not a day of relief in Israel.

The UK has announced it would allocate 7 million pounds to fighting antisemitism, which is welcome news. Switzerland said it will pass legislation that would prohibit Hamas activity through it.

A uniquely Israeli moment that happened yesterday... Jewish first sergeant Mordechai Shenvald, who was seriously injured in Gaza, playing with his Arab physician, Doctor Darwashe, a song by famous Arab singer Um Kultum, called Inti Umri:

Israel has torn down today a Jewish settlement established illegally in the disputed territories. You'll always hear about when Israel takes down Arab houses built illegally, but I bet most people here havne't heard about it when Jewish Israeli civilians get the exact same treatment for this exact same offense.

This is part of the testimony of a father to a girl with special needs, whose family has survived the Oct 7 massacre:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by כאן חדשות (@kan_news)

This is 25 years old Shani Gabai.

She was considered missing since the Oct 7 massacre. Today, her body was identified among the other victims of the music festival.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[modelbus]

HIHI!!!

as a fellow writer im here to support your events teeehee, congrats on 1000 followers!! :)

lets do ranboo, fake dating, and darling !!

Thank you so much!!

Pairing: CC!Ranboo x Gn!Reader

Fake Dating AU - Darling

You knew what to expect from your friends. Asking for your schedule (Phil), begging for food (Tommy), invites to stream (everyone). But you never expected to be pretending to be dating Ranboo to take a cat to a vet.

“I’m telling you, I don’t need to be here for this.” You say, arms wrapped around a cat carrier as Ranboo parks the car.

“You’re on the paperwork.” He answers, the same thing he told you the first five times.

When he had got Moose—the cat currently in your lap—the paperwork had two spots for two owners. Obviously, Ranboo put himself as one. And for godforsaken reason, he put you as the other one.

“I’m telling you, they wouldn’t judge you for being the only owner here.” You sigh, getting out of the car carefully. The cat carrier wobbles, and Moose meows loudly in complaint.

“Single parents are great, but there are two of us and we have to present a unified front for Moose.” Ranboo keeps insisting, reaching out to take the cat carrier from you.

“We aren’t his parents!”

You jog ahead to grab the door, holding it open. In doing so, you completely miss the offended look he gives you.

“Of course we’re his parents!” He waits inside for you to catch up so you want walk to the desk together. “And I might’ve put that we’re married as a joke.”

“Ranboo!”

He shrugs, looking at the receptionist. “Hi, we have an appointment for Moose?”

You point at the cat carrier as if the receptionist needed proof that you had the cat. She nods, typing loudly into her computer. Ranboo gives her some more information as you look around the lobby, scanning over the other pet owners. A woman with a big dog smiles politely at you, then goes back to doing a crossword.

“You and your partner are welcome to take a seat while you wait.” The receptionist says, and your head whips around.

Ranboo just nods, wrapping an arm slowly around your shoulders. “We’ll sit, right darling?”

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. What did you get yourself into? No, what did he get you into?

“Right.” You force out. “…pookie.”

He jerks his head to stare at you, pinching your shoulder before guiding you over to some chairs.

“Pookie?” He hisses. “I should be covering Moose’s ears!”

“Because he heard the word Pookie?”

“Because you’re exposing his innocent ears—“

“Moose is the least innocent cat in the world!” You reply in a hushed tone. “He literally swallowed an entire sock once!”

“On accident!”

You glare at him while taking a seat, putting Moose’s carrier on your lap. “It’s okay, Moose. Dad doesnt see you for the little terror you are.”

“Give me my cat back.” Ranboo says, snatching Moose away from you.

“My husband and I fight all the time over our dog.” The lady next to you tells you. “Nothing like having furry children.”

“Oh, uh, we aren’t—“ Ranboo starts, but you cut him off. He dug this grave, and he’s going to fucking lie in it.

“I know! I’m always telling him to recognize that our cat is a terrorist, but you know how men are.” You sigh.

The lady nods. “That I do. My husband always makes it up to me with a kiss.” She stares at you expectantly.

You look over at Ranboo, and he stares back with panicked eyes. Your plan might’ve backfired. Just a little.

“Oh, I—“

“Thanks but—“

“Moose?” The vet calls, and you swear you and Ranboo have never hauled ass faster.

You hover behind Ranboo awkwardly as the vet checks Moose over. It’s just a routine check, or so you’ve been told. You wouldn’t put it past Ranboo to forget that Moose came for something like animal acne or something just as strange.

“You two are good parents, Moose seems to be very healthy.” The vet finally says.

“Very healthy for a very good cat.” Ranboo looks at you pointedly, and your cheeks flush for no good reason. “Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

You can’t exactly disagree here. Disagreeing would make the vet think you’re a bad pet owner, even though Moose isn’t technically yours. And you definitely don’t want the vet to think you and Ranboo are arguing, despite the fact you’re not even dating.

“Of course. Never ate a sock a day in his life.” You grit out.

Damn him.

[meloneta]

i'm tired i'm too tired to keep approaching people individually and i'm kinda done. i'm just gonna say this publicly once, please read this. the situation over here rn isn't about palestinians fighting for their human rights and freedom, if it were i would support it. the attacks on israel are by a terrorist organization named Hamas and you're more than welcome to look them up-their ideology is: number one that they see the muslim people as entitled to the land of israel/palestine (which i am not going to argue about, i don't agree nor disagree on that i quite literally don't care about that conversation), and number two that they need to kill jews. i'm not paraphrasing that's in their literal "covenant"- again, look it up- that they strive to kill all jewish people and see it as their obligation to do so. i hate this country and its government with every fiber of my being and the things israel has done (and still does) to palestinians are absolutely horrible and condemnable. with that said, the attacks rn aren't about that. they're not by palestinian citizens, they're by the terrorist group known as hamas. they do things that could not ever be done in the name of fighting for human rights or self-preservation. i am critical of israel but 1,100 innocent israeli civilians are dead since saturday. some are people i know and care about. so many were kidnapped and tortured. this IS complicated and you SHOULD educate yourself proparly on the matter before speaking and yes before reblogging random posts too. your opinion is your own but you must have the proper information before preaching it.

reblog this, don't reblog this, i don't really care anymore. but i had to say something.

[lightningbreath]

A RANT ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL

You know, this show did a terrible job of making me "sympathize" with the Sinners.

And you know why? Because they didn't give me any reason to think that they're redeeming themselves.

Angel never has to face the consequences of the actions that landed him in Hell, his only problem is Valentino and drugs.

At no point is Sir Pentius questioned about the fact that he's a weapons manufacturer who profits from wars, no, his only problem is that he behaved like a "cartoon super villain".

I don't mind Adam carrying out the Exterminations, in fact, I'm glad to know that, even if it's just for one day, Adam is giving the sinners the punishment they deserve for being the scum of humanity. Aside from the day of the Extermination, Hell doesn't feel like Hell, there are no demons to make the sinners be punished, they have complete freedom to do whatever they want and they actively choose to be sinners and enjoy it. If it weren't for Valentino, Angel seems to enjoy Hell, doing shit and getting away with it. When we get to episode 6, and Emily has the nerve to call the Sinners "innocent souls" I swear I've never wanted to kill a character as much as I did at that moment.

I just thought: I don't want the Sinners to go to Heaven, after all, what about the victims of these sinners who are in Heaven? And what's the message?

Is it "You can be a shitty person and make other people's lives hell while you're alive without any problem, because when you die, just go to the Hazbin Hotel, cry a little, say how poor you are a victim of circumstances, sing a song and boom, you can go to Heaven without problems." ?

Oh, but you don't believe in second chances? No! Because I see the double standard here: if a mobster, a warlord, a slave-owning casino owner and a terrorist can be put in a position of "poor things who just want a second chance" then what's to stop a racist, a homophobe, a mustache-twister or a xenophobe from dancing the same dance if they behave the same way as Angel or Sir P? "Oh, it's just that these things are unforgivable", "Oh, but not all sinners are"...

So... what's the difference between Charlie and Heaven? Heaven has set limits on who can enter its domains and Charlie wants to set limits on who can "seek redemption".... how would that make Charlie any better than the "evil Heaven"?

I just want to ask one question: if Valentino, one day, came crying to Charlie's feet seeking redemption, should she allow him to live under the same roof as Angel? Ah, what a silly question, if Charlie doesn't have a problem with Alastor having Nifty and Husk as slaves, clearly this case wouldn't be a problem.

And the funny thing is seeing people from this fandom say "the people in Heaven had time to heal, they can't refuse to welcome the fishermen, otherwise I'll consider them the worst in the world🤬"... Yes, of course. The victims of murder, torture, war, xenophobia, SA, (etc) all of them "have had time to heal" and that's why they should be forced to live with people on the same level as their attackers.

Wow, how easy it is to be a sinner in HH, you live in a ""Hell"" that doesn't punish you for absolutely anything and you're still treated like an injustice by the fandom, which will always look for a justification for all the shit these characters do.

Oh, but this is a "morally gray" show, there is no "black and white morality", of course not.

[wintersplctice]

Different post! This is TF141 x fem!child user(age 11)

May include language, weapons, and violence!

Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were on a mission and they spotted you in a building surrounded by men most likely terrorists. You were wearing a black hoodie and black leggings. For some reason, you didn’t seem that scared? They came barging in and they immediately took them out. You looked quite surprised to see them. Backstory of you, you were just a babe when you were found by assassins who trained you relentlessly. Five hours of sleep maximum, only three meals a day without snacks. 17 hours of training, 2 of those hours for free time and the time for your meals. You were known as the best assassin and sent out on missions since you were 7.

Your strengths are: agility, fast reaction time, etc.

weaknesses: heavy objects, comfy positions since you tend to get sleepy fast but you get punished bad if you sleep more then five hours, fear of talking out of line, etc.

End of backstory!

You had your knife out and pointed at them but that doesn’t compare with their guns pointed at you. You learned that knives are for close combat and guns are distant but also can be used as close combat. Your more skilled at a gun then a knife but guns are heavier for you which is a weakness of yours. Soap spoke, “Who ‘re ye, what’s ‘yre name lassie?” he spoke. You had lots of scars which they took note on. “First, who are you and why should I tell you?” You spoke with a voice not backing down. They could tell you’ve been through things so they decided to spill. “Captain John Price. Call me Price”

“Johnny Soap MacTavish. Call me Soap, nice to meet ya lass”

“Kyle Gaz Garrick. Call me Gaz.”

*Ghost more of didn’t want to say but Price gave him a look so he said if in a deep and spine chilling voice,”Simon Ghost Riley. Ghost.” Well damn. That’s just great. How welcoming! You took a deep breath. Saying your name should hurt that bad right? “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n…” you said still on edge. (Can have middle name or not.) “Can ye put the knife down now, lass?” Soap said in a softer tone. They knew you were a young age just not certain how old. “…Fine” you finally considered as she tossed the knife a few feet away from her to the floor. “How old are you, lass?” Price asked. “I gave you my name. Use it. I’m eleven.” Dang you didn’t have to be that harsh but they got somewhat of it. Give Soap a few minutes and he’ll go back to calling you Lass. “Why are you here, Y/n?” Price asked. “Some important documents or smth.” You said but took it back. Why did you have to tell them this? It’s none of their business. But you were too tired to care. You only had four hours to sleep since you have been staying up longer than usual because of some training you had to do. “Why don’t you come with us?” Gaz offered. Ghost watching just in case anymore men are coming. “…Very well.” Well fuck it. Why not? It’s not like they seem super weak. They can handle a few assassins right? When you get into their van Price is the one driving and Soap, Ghost, Gaz, are in the back with you. “Why aren’t one of you in the passengers seat?” You asked confused. “So you aren’t lonely!” Gaz said with the a smile trying to make you feel comfortable. How much it’s working is not so much. Further in you fell asleep onto Ghosts shoulder but the tough guy didn’t shove you off which made Gaz and Soap tease him like no tomorrow. They got a few hits on the head when they made it to base but not from Ghost, from you because you don’t like teasing.

Shall I make a part two?

[tarre-was-right]

ROUND ONE: MATCH-UP THREE

Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.

To be fair, I think we know who's going to win this one, lmao. That said! Go read the Tor propaganda, we got a silly amount of it. Actually we got an insane amount of propaganda for both of them overall.

Explanation post

Seeding

Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here!

Bo-Katan Kryze

Anon: Bo-Katan propaganda: she babysat a Jedi child without the child dying or killing anyone and leading a planet is basically just babysitting a child on a big scale right

Anon: Bo-Katan spent like three years as a terrorist but she also spent 30 years rebelling against fascists so idk I'm willing to hear her out on this. Welcome back Princess Leia 👏

Anon: as Satine's sister, she would have received much the same early training and education in how to rule their Duchy on Kalevala, as she alluded to in her comments in The Mandalorian - while her involvement in Death Watch is perhaps not a mark in her favor, she did seemingly have many years of experience working as Pre Vizsla's lieutenant, and earned the trust of many of his followers who defected to follow her following Pre's death and Maul's claiming of the Darksaber and throne of Mandalore, forming the bulk of her fighting force during her efforts to reclaim that throne during the Siege of Mandalore - during the Rebels timeline, she has lost the throne once again due to an Imperial-backed coup, but seems to have been working to resist the Empire's rule; during this time, she is chosen to be the figurehead and rallying point of that apparently unsuccessful effort - finally, during the time of The Mandalorian, she has been rallying the surviving clans to reclaim the Darksaber as a stepping stone for reuniting their people; after her work with Din Djarin and the Armorer, she once again is selected by her people to be their leader as they work to rebuild their reclaimed home planet

Anon: Bo-Katan should be the Mando'alor because, while having done a LOT of shit, she tried her best to free Mandalore from the Empire and to give her people the safety they lost when the New Mandalorian Government fell - She worked to redeem herself, and she got back up every time she fell. She united the people of Mandalore from every aspect and kept the warrior traditions alive

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: Literally the only reason I can think of for bo katan to rule is that she’s stubborn. She doesn’t stop trying to get mandalorians organised and on their homeworld. Kinda a Robert the Bruce and a spider in a cave style parable, except instead of the English she’s trying to fight her own bad actions/behaviour towards others

Anon: Bo-Katan propaganda: you know that quote about "It's hard for a good man to be king?" Well considering she's a terrible person she'd actually be pretty good at ruling Mandalore.

Tor Vizsla

Anon: god. ugh. can't believe I'm writing this. but. - he was backed by a not-insignificant number of clans, including those of good reknown such as Clan Wren, apparently spurred by the common sentiment that Mereel's Supercommando Codex was an affront to their sense of honor by extending the definition of honorable professions for the warrior class to bounty hunting and mercenary work (which was an attempt to avert some of the expansionist tendencies of previous generations of Mandalorian warriors)

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: Okay so. Tor Visla. - This is a franchise called Star Wars. There has not been a generation without interplanetary conflict happening somewhere. Mandalore has an imperialist history which left it with a lot of people with grudges against it, and in living/near living memory their homeworld was bombed by the largest government around to the point of having to live in environment domes. The giant war across the galaxy at the moment has one side being almost completely fought by clones of a self-exiled prince of your people, they wear armor clearly based on your cultural touchstone armor and marked with your cultures symbols and speaking at least some of your language. - In that situation, you could see why someone would think its not a great idea to be led by an ardent pacifist and demilitarise to the point of making the people who refused to stop carrying weapons leave the planet. - Of course, what Tor decided to do with that set up is really terrible, he probably should have lead a militia group to kneecap anything that went for Mandalore if he decided Mandalore was weak and defenseless, not start bombing public works and being a domestic terrorist, but I'm just laying out the intentions/set up here. - Now. What he did and what he thought he was doing are different things, of course. - But you can sort of argue that what Tor's little terrorist group actually did kinda helped Mandalore. In an assbackwards, unintentional way, of course. And yet. - Mandalore was divided, and Satine Kryze was doing her best to improve standards of living, but her political views could mean causing more fractures and splits in the society. However. Give people an enemy, an opposing side, and make them so heinous and undefendable that only the most fanatic, the most violent and hateful, will join them, and everyone else will stop bickering over religio-cultural doctrine and band together against the violent fantatics who just bombed a school group. By being an opposition that no one but the people who were never going to help would join, Tor helped keep Mandalorian society together and strong. Like a supporting joint pushing against the wall. - And in the aftermath of the Empire, the experience with urban warfare and terrorist groups meant that Mandalore was more prepared to survive when they scattered across the galaxy to hide. - In conclusion. Tor Visla. Understandable starting point. Unforgivable follow through. Unmistakable impact.

Anon: "He will make Mandalore great again. And don't believe Jaster lie, he isn't a speciesist. He has a Java friend. With him, Mandalorian will do a raid on this weak core world everyday. The galaxy will be their playground and twi'lek girl will fall for them. Alcool will flow every night."

Anon: Tor would be good for gathering people for his cause, and he’d keep the dependent load small. He would also probably have easily accessible supplies (ie food, weapons, medicine, etc).

Anon: Propaganda for Tor Vizsla: Mandalorian

[glitterpensupremacy]

(NOT MTS CONTENT) Alright, as a Miraculous fan (with a particularly vested interest in Chat Noir) I’m making my thoughts on the new Chat Noir look clear.

I’m not super upset that he doesn’t have a new outfit, since, let’s be honest, Ladybug and Carapace needed it WAY more than he did.

I’m also not that concerned about his new proportions. Yeah, they’re a little funny looking, it that might just be the camera angle. Either way, he’s getting older so it makes sense that his facial structure is changing (plus I give my own CN a slightly more angular face to indicate that he’s a sweet kid, sure, but there’s a lot more to him than just “good perfect bean”.

So then, what’s got me emotionally invested enough to make a Tumblr post? (By now it’s probably pretty obvious…)

The hair.

HERE’S THE THING THOUGH- it’s not that I think the hairstyle is bad or ugly. It’s very stylish, and the smooth swishy look would be more than welcomed on a different character. But that’s the problem, this is the wild and chaotic Chat Noir, the catboy of destruction who tells terrible puns. His hair should not be that neat, and it should not be that perfect (yeah it’s a little messy, but only enough to have that “effortless, natural look” you’d see in a shampoo ad)

Maybe I’m overreacting; after all, it’s just a hairstyle, and I’m treating it like it’s the end all be all for his character in Season Six. However… it’s not just the hair. While watching Season Five, I noticed that Chat Noir doesn’t really joke around as much as he did in previous seasons (especially in the second half of S5), and isn’t really allowed to get mad or be rebellious outside of when his role as the love interest needs him to (trying to cataclysm Dark Owl because of the Married LadyNoir vision, trying to cataclysm Dark Cupid because he’s being a protective boyfriend to Marinette, telling off Nighttormentor because Gabriel forced him to go to London, sure, but the show makes it clear that the REAL problem is him trying to keep Adrien and Marinette apart). Other than that, he’s the perfect well-behaved supportive partner.

In general, it feels like Chat Noir and Adrien are becoming more similar personalities, which is good: I think a lot of us have anticipated this happening for his character arc… but the problem is, Chat Noir is becoming more like Adrien rather than Adrien becoming Chat Noir, because isn’t his arc supposed to be breaking free of the perfect controlled persona his father has forced him into, learning to express himself and become his own person? (There’s also the fact that I think he’s a little more interesting to watch as Chat Noir or the more expressive early seasons Adrien, but his development is the more important issue here.)

This kinda thing has me worried that everyone who believes that the finale was bad on purpose (the secret dystopia route) and that the writer’s genuinely do want us to believe that Gabriel’s actions have been valid and ethical (THEY ARE NOT: BRO IS A TERRORIST 💀.) Either that, or they just want us to watch the cute shipping scenes and not really care about Adrien’s character outside of that. Kinda a bleak view, I know, but that’s how things have been looking lately. (Maybe they’re making him look neater as a part of the dystopia route though? I guess we’ll see but it seems unlikely…)

(I probably should reemphasize that I’m not actually getting this “doom and gloom conspiracy board” over JUST a haircut. It’s more like I saw a bunch of other (personal) warning signs over the last two seasons, and this is just one other thing making me more worried.)

I know this isn’t my usual stuff but I felt like I needed to air my grievances (especially since while I have seen other people not like the new hair, it doesn’t seem to be for the same reasons as me, seeing as I don’t even dislike the hairstyle itself; just the fact that Chat Noir’s the one who has it). Hopefully this was at least interesting or even validating, but if not… Well, I’ll get back to my normal content after this anyway.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Field Mouse

District Twelve is filled with rats. Vermin. Infested in fact. That's the first thing Coriolanus Snow learns when he gets off the train at the station. At night he tries to soothe himself to sleep by telling himself that by all technicality, he's sleeping in the cleanest place there is in this sad excuse for a District.

Not that the Peacekeeper base is top tier. Because it's not.

His penthouse on the Corso is top-tier. But here he was, sweating as he loaded crates and barrels onto trucks in the sweltering heat of June. "Got here right in time Gent," his bunkmate Smiley jokes.

Coriolanus has to withstand the urge to roll his eyes at his friend's playful jest. There is nothing right about him being here. There is nothing good about District Twelve. There is nothing worth visiting District Twelve for and...oh.

Well, what does he have here?

Coriolanus had almost forgotten that women inhabited this part of Panem. It doesn't mean they're pretty, but they all share that one special thing between their legs and that's good enough for him.

His other bunkmate Beanpole takes notice of the change in Coriolanus's demeanor and nudges him, "We're going down to the Hob tomorrow night. You should come, meet the locals." He wiggles his eyebrows as he says the last part and Coriolanus grins. "Sounds like a plan."

If he were in the Capitol, he would've put a lot of time and effort into his appearance. He would've made sure his shirt was free of any wrinkles, that his shoes weren't scuffed, that his curls were styled just the right way.

But he's not in the Capitol. His shirt consists of the uniform every Peacekeeper is given when they arrive at the base. His shoes are heavy-duty boots, and he gets yelled at if his laces are undone. And his golden, precious curls are gone. Shaved off before he even left the Capitol.

He runs a hand through his buzzed hair as they all step into the Hob. According to Smiley, it's some sort of black-market the locals have put together. The Peacekeepers normally turn a blind eye since it's one of the only places you can get alcohol for a decent price, along with a good time with a girl.

Coriolanus surveys the room for a moment, locating all the exits and entry points. It seems there's one way in and one way out. A major fire hazard but who cares? "Let's get some drinks," Smiley shouts into his ear. It's loud in here, and it smells a little but Coriolanus nods, everything's more tolerable when you're drunk.

They get some drinks from a vendor who's running the bar who eyes them wearily until Smiley produces some coins. Then they're welcomed customers. "Folks around here are a bit scared off by us," he explains to Coriolanus, tugging on his blue shirt, "they can spot the uniform from a mile away."

Coriolanus was always able to identify the Peacekeepers in the Capitol, but he doesn't tell Smiley that. Peacekeepers were a beacon of security and safety to Capitol citizens. Here, they're practically terrorists.

It's like a sudden silence falls over the room before a girl comes scampering out onto the makeshift stage they have set up in the Hob, and she's hollering about all sorts of things. Coriolanus doesn't really pay her any mind, or the other's that join her and strike up a tune. Live music is always appreciated so he keeps on talking to Smiley about when he thinks Hoff might stop making them carry hundreds of crates back and forth from the base.

Coriolanus has always been perceptive, and that's how he spots a small disturbance in the crowd. It's between a girl and a guy and the two are arguing about something with such passion. Well, the guy is at least. The girl won't seem to give him the time of day as she pushes her way through the crowd that seems to make way for her, but not for him.

It's hard to make out her face in the dim lighting, but she looks pretty. Well, pretty for a girl in the Districts. She's making her way towards him. Towards the bar most likely. As they get closer Coriolanus can make out more of what the guy is saying.

"...didn't mean it! You know I would never get with her, you're the one for me Soarynn."

Soarynn. What a pretty name. And the closer she gets he can see that she's very pretty. Coriolanus decides that he'd be chasing her too if she was running away from him.

She finally reaches the bar, not sparing any Peacekeepers a glance as she goes to order. She doesn't get far before the guy grabs her arm and pulls her back. Coriolanus tightens his grip on his drink. He hates District people all the same, even if they're pretty girls. But there's just something about a guy bothering a girl that he hates.

"I didn't cheat so stop walkin' away from me!" He cries, frustration written all over his grimy face. Soarynn pulls her arm from his grasp, "I don't care what you did or didn't do, we're over Billy Taupe. Go find some new girl to follow around." She tries to step back but this Billy Taupe is relentless and clearly drunk because he goes to grab her waist. Soarynn doesn't hesitate to slap him across the face and several people let out low whistles at the public fight.

Coriolanus shakes his head and focuses back on Smiley, figuring the argument is over now that she's shown him a thing or two. So when he watches from the corner of his eye as Billy Taupe grabs her by the hair and starts screaming bloody murder, he's the first to react and leap to action.

She looks so scared in his grasp, trying to get away and Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to grab the drunk by the shoulders and pull him back. Soarynn manages to get out of Billy Taupe's grasp and watches wide-eyed as Coriolanus turns him around and socks him across the face.

Now it's a fight.

There's yelling from both sides, miners and Peacekeepers alike as Coriolanus punches Billy Taupe again. He tries to fight back and manages to snag him in his lip, but he's no match for Coriolanus who's much taller and more sober. Coriolanus lands one more punch, watching as blood gushes from Billy Taupe's nose.

The Hob is buzzing with noise now, people are screaming and arguing while the two boys are now on the floor. Even though he can barely hear himself think, he grabs Billy Taupe by the collar, pulling him off the ground, "Don't ever touch her again," he spits out before letting go of that sorry excuse of a person.

It's Beanpole who's pulling him off the ground, saying how they need to leave before backup gets here. The crowd makes it hard to move in any direction but they don't seem to be too mad at him. He gets some dirty looks but that's about it. Coriolanus only glances behind him once to see Soarynn looking right at him, her eyes wide and watching as he leaves.

The boys clap him on the back as they walk back to the base, "You sure-handed his ass to him," Beanpole laughs, "thought we'd never get you off of him."

Coriolanus shrugged, his lip had a small cut on it, which meant bruise, swelling, the whole nine yards really.

"I was just doing my job."

꧁ ꧂

He's felt someone's eyes on him since they pulled into the town square. But Coriolanus can't seem to find who's watching him. They're loading crates, again. It seems that the newer Peacekeepers are tasked with all the grunt work no one wants to be bothered with.

"Take a break!" The commanding officer yells, wiping sweat off his own brow before walking into the nearest establishment for reprieve which just so happens to be the bakery. Coriolanus watches him for a moment, his eyes scanning the bakery windows and then he sees her.

Sees those eyes.

Soarynn's eyes widen momentarily before a small smile spreads across her lips and she walks away from the window. Coriolanus looks around to see if anyone else notices her but everyone's too caught up in their misery with the heat to even look at him. Beanpole and Smiley are leaning up against the truck so he decides to stray from the group, do some recon if you will.

He can't go into the bakery, not with the officer still inside. But he can peek in, try and see her. He's walking by the alley when he hears a whistle. His head snaps towards the narrow road in between the barkey and another establishment but he sees nothing. In the movies he's seen this is the part where you run in the other direction.

He goes into the alley.

He walks further and further, passing by a small gate when a hand reaches out and grabs him. Coriolanus nearly jumps out of his skin when he's pulled to the side, his hand immediately going for his gun when he looks down and sees that it's her.

It's Soarynn.

She smiles up at him, her hand still on his arm, "Hi."

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows before replying, "Hello. Is there a reason as to why you lured me into this alley?"

Soarynn laughs and it sounds so sweet, sweet like honey. "I wanted to thank you for the other night. You were real noble saving me from the likes of Billy Taupe."

"Is he your boyfriend?" Coriolanus blurts out, watching her face slightly falter as if she's deciding whether or not to tell him the truth. "He was," she says slowly, swaying back and forth on her heels, taking her hand off his arm, "then I caught him cheatin' on me."

Coriolanus can't help the look of surprise on his face, out of all the women he's seen in District Twelve, Soarynn is by far the prettiest. "Why would he cheat on you?" He asks, "Doesn't make sense to cheat on a sweet girl like you."

Soarynn grins, tilting her head, "Boys will drop a shiny coin to pick up a pebble sweetheart, just the way it is." She looks him up and down then, taking in his current state, hot and sweaty. He must look very handsome right now. "They got y'all workin' hard with those crates. Been watchin' you all morning."

Coriolanus isn't used to this, how forward this girl is with him. In the Capitol, it's all about soft giggles and practiced glances. But this girl is putting it all out there so he might as well too. "You like looking at me?" He asks her, taking a step towards her. She doesn't back up. "Mhm. I like lookin' at pretty boys like you," she purrs, her fingers coming up to touch his dog tags, "especially pretty boys who come to my rescue." She grabs his tags, yanking him down until he's at eye level with her, she turns his tags in her fingers, not even looking at him.

For some reason, he finds that attractive. How she won't give him the time of day right now even though she's the whole reason he's in this alley.

She reads his dog tags, "Coriolanus Snow," she says, finally looking him in the eye and she looks rather impressed. "Eighteen years old, six-foot-two, Capitol born," she smirks at the last part. "I've never met a Capitol boy like you before. You miss home?" He doesn't miss a beat, "Yes." Soarynn laughs and nods her head, "I would too, especially if I ended up here."

She lets go of his tags but he doesn't rise to his full height, he stays down there with her. "Do you have a job?" She shrugs, "Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Depends which way the wind blows I guess." Coriolanus bites his lip, his bruised lip and she notices, reaches out, and touches it without even asking, "Sorry about your lip. Billy Taupe can throw a nasty punch when he's angry."

Suddenly his stomach is in knots thinking about how she knows what it feels like to be punched by Billy Taupe. "He ever hit you?"

That seems to be the question that scares her off the most, he can almost see her putting her walls back up, "I'm not with him anymore. Don't need to worry about who he's punchin' or kissin' for that matter."

So he's hit her before. That's fine. Perfectly fine.

A sharp whistle pulls the two out of their tense little world and Coriolanus straightens back up, leaning out to see they're finally packing up and heading back to the base. "I'd like to see you again," he says, looking down at her. Her hair is parted down the middle, it's blonde and it looks so soft. Her tan skin is fairly clean and she's got these eyes he can't look away from. They're blue with a hint of gray. Freckles cover her face and her pink lips curl up into a smile, "You wanna see little old me again? After all the trouble I've caused you?" She asks, feigning surprise.

Coriolanus rolls his eyes and nods, "I'll take my chances." Soarynn hums, bouncing on her toes, "I'll be at the Hob this Friday. 'Course you can always come see me in the Seam." He furrows his brows, the Seam?

Soarynn giggles, "Oh so you're really new to District Twelve huh? I'll see you on Friday then. Coriolanus Snow." She slips something in his hand before she spins around, walking up two stairs and opening a door. He has no clue where it leads or where she's going but he's nodding and watching her leave.

It's only when he's sitting in the back of the truck that he looks to see what she gave him. It's a ribbon. Pink, silky, probably cost her a small fortune. Smiley looks over and his eyebrows raise, "Where'd you get that?" Coriolanus finds it incredibly rude of Smiley to insert himself somewhere he has no business being, but perhaps sharing this little secret will pay off in the end. After all, Smiley is much more knowledgeable about this place than he is at the moment. "That girl from the Hob," he says, his voice hushed, his fist curling around the ribbon.

Smiley grins, "Looks like she's being sweet on you if she gave you that. Must make you her hero or something since you saved her from that guy."

Coriolanus frowns because it makes perfect sense why Soarynn would like him and be so sweet to him. He protected her. He saved her. But he's a Peacekeeper. He's seen the way people look at him, at his friends, his bosses. All they see is Capitol dogs.

"But I'm a Peacekeeper," he points out, "she should hate me for what I do."

The truck jostles and Coriolanus knows they're back on base, and watches the gates close behind them. Home sweet home.

Smiley chuckles, "Sounds like she's one of those girls who has a thing for Peacekeepers. Some women love men with authority so we're the perfect fit for them, makes them feel like they're special."

Well, this was news to Coriolanus. He'd grown up hating District people and always assumed that they did the same. Which meant something must be really wrong with this girl.

The truck finally came to a stop and they hopped out, the ribbon still clutched in his hand. It was pretty, like her. And he didn't get a whole lot of pretty out here in Twelve, surrounded by sweaty, grumbling men.

Smiley bumped his shoulder with him, "They're like bees to honey with us, can't get enough.”

Everyone begins walking towards the mess hall. Cookie made something fried tonight from what he can smell and everyone wants a bite, but Coriolanus lingers behind.

Looking at that pink ribbon. It’s soft, it sure would look pretty in her hair.

“…like bees to honey…”

Those words play over and over in his head for the rest of the day, rest of the night. Surely he hasn’t misread the situation, her actions. She gave him that ribbon to remember her, so he’d think about her until they saw each other again. She even told him where she lived! Kind of. Sort of. Maybe.

“Hey Beanpole,” he says, not moving from his position on his bunk. They have an hour of free time before its lights out and Coriolanus has been using it to mull over his possibilities with Soarynn.

“Yeah, Gent?”

Coriolanus debates how much he should ask, how much he should tell. Because at the end of the day, he’s here to work, to suffer, to serve. Hoff hasn’t directly said they couldn’t be in relationships but he has a feeling that they’re rather frowned upon. Especially with new recruits. Especially with District girls.

“Where’s the Seam?”

The laugh he gets from Beanpole makes him wonder if it’s so obvious. Clearly, there aren’t big signs in town pointing in every which direction but still, it seems to be a valid question.

“The Seam is the south side of nowhere my friend. It’s rock bottom.”

Oh, so she’s poor.

Or her family is poor at least which makes her poor. If only he could take her back with him to the Capitol, show her true wealth.

“I’ll point you in the right direction when we stop by town tomorrow,” his bunkmate offers. Coriolanus thanks him before rolling over in his bunk, staring at the wall. This is a bad idea, he thinks. But what’s the worst that can happen? A little heartbreak never killed anybody.

Right?

꧁ ꧂

“Just keep walking down that road and you’ll reach the Seam,” Beanpole said, giving Coriolanus a pat on the back like he’d need it.

Coriolanus nodded and soldiered on towards the Seam, a bag of ice clutched in his hand. It took some convincing from Cookie, but he managed a decent-sized bag, figuring Soarynn might enjoy some ice. The further he walks the more he realizes why Beanpole wished him luck. The Seam is where poor, poor, poor people live.

The houses can barely hold themselves together, the roofs are sagging, the grass is dead, the fences are leaning and Coriolanus is about to start running.

But he can’t.

He needs to be a man, a better man. At least a better man than Billy Taupe which shouldn’t be hard since he hits his girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend, Coriolanus reminds himself as he comes across a man working on his front fence. The man looks normal enough until Coriolanus asks him for directions and he realizes the man is missing his two front teeth.

“I’m looking for a girl,” he starts and the man lets out a wheeze, slapping his knee. “Aren’t we all?” He asks, throwing his head back. Coriolanus sighs, leave it to him to ask this absolute nut job for directions. “Her name is Soarynn,” he continues, “she said she lives in the Seam.” That seems to sober the man up long enough to think, “Oh the blonde girl,” he snaps his fingers, “she lives at the end of the road.”

Of course, she does.

Coriolanus thanks the man before continuing his trek to her house. It’s positively sweltering and he’s glad he had forgone the long-sleeved part of his Peacekeeper uniform. Today it’s the pants and the white shirt. Simple. He’s hoping for handsome but his sweat isn’t helping.

When he finally reaches her house he’s passed a number of people on the street, all looking at him strangely as if he’s the odd one out. Shouldn’t these people be working? No wonder this country was such a mess.

Soarynn’s house is gray but that seems to be a recurring theme in the Seam. It looks to be about two stories although he wouldn’t try the second floor if he was smart. There’s a rickety porch and he cautiously makes his way up the steps and knocks on the door.

There’s the chance that no one’s home. With his luck, her dad will answer the door.

When the door opens he almost wishes it was her dad answering. It’s a boy. His age, brown hair, tan skin, shirtless. They’re about the same height and they immediately size each other up because what else do teenage boys do?

Finally, the brown-haired boy smirks and looks over his shoulder, “Your pretty boy is here Soarynn.”

His heart beats a little faster at the nickname. One, because it’s a nickname and Coriolanus only has two other nicknames, Gent and Coryo. Both reserved for very different people. Two, because it means she’s talked about him since they last saw each other. It’s only been two days but still.

He can hear a bit of scuffling before Soarynn pushes her way to the front door, shoving the other boy back into the house, “Don’t make me get my earplugs,” the boy says to her. Soarynn looks up and shoots him a nasty look before jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow, “Go fishin’ Jett, and don’t tell no one either.”

Jett, it seems, simply holds his hands up before shooting Coriolanus one more look and disappearing into the house.

Coriolanus can feel his bottom lip twitching. Who was that? At first he feared the worst, that she might already be with someone else, but their dynamic doesn’t seem that way.

“My cousin,” Soarynn says as if reading his mind.

Coriolanus finally looks down at her and isn’t she just something? Her hair’s been thrown up in a messy bun, a few pieces falling out here and there. She’s wearing a dress with thin straps, it’s light blue and it looks like it’s been worn to death. He isn’t even trying to notice but she’s got no bra on and she doesn’t seem to care that he’s seeing her this way, so exposed right now.

“I thought I might never find this place,” he says, not wanting to expand on her cousin anymore if he can help it. Soarynn gives him a small smile and leans against the doorframe as if the house won’t fall over from her small amount of weight. “But you found me,” she tells him, some pride in her tone.

Coriolanus swallows, “I did.” He looks into the house to see if he can find anyone else but it seems to be empty. Soarynn catches him looking because she seems to notice everything and straightens back up, “Why don’t we go to the meadow?”

The meadow? A possibly desirable place in this wasteland?

“Sounds good to me.”

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn doesn’t wear any shoes when they go to the meadow. It’s quite literally right behind her house which makes it easier, but still. What if she stepped on something or got bit? She doesn’t seem to care.

She leads him to a large oak tree where there’s a rock under it, the perfect size for the both of them to perch on. At least that’s what she tells him.

“I come bearing gifts,” he says, settling down on the rock.

Soarynn tilts her head and pulls her knees up to her chest, “You don't say.”

Even though he’s sure she already saw it he makes a big show of producing the ice. It’s not even the satisfaction of knowing he provided for her that makes him happy, it’s the big smile that spreads across her face when she sees the bag.

“Well this is a gift good as any,” she says with a laugh, grabbing the bottom of the bag to feel how cold it is. “Y’all got ice on that Peacekeeper base?”

Coriolanus nods while untying the bag, offering her a cube. Soarynn simply opens her mouth and he doesn’t falter to drop the cube into her mouth, watching her work on it for a minute. “Thank you for the ribbon by the way. You didn’t have to give me a gift.”

Soarynn raises her eyebrows and looks out into the meadow, “Wasn’t much of a gift as it was a token. A token of my affection,” she states matter of factly.

Coriolanus grins, “Does that mean you might show me some affection today?”

Soarynn shoots him a flirtatious look, “Might show you somethin’ more if you keep it up pretty boy.”

That’s what he likes most about her he thinks, how she can dish as well as she can take it.

He wonders what else she can take.

“Have you ever been with a Peacekeeper before?” He asks, curious to see if Smiley is right and if he’s her third victim of the month. He’s sure there are girls like that, finding some new boy the second their old one gets shipped off to some new District.

Soarynn bites her lip, “Been with a Peacekeeper in what way? Sexually?”

Well, he hadn’t meant that but there’s no going back now he supposes, “In any way shape, or form,” he decides, popping two ice cubes into his own mouth. He doesn’t suck on them like Soarynn does like she’s trying to savor them because she doesn’t know the next time she’ll get ice. He can get as much ice as he damn well pleases back at the base.

“Nope, y’all aren’t really my type,” she says with a smile, gigging when Coriolanus gasps as if offended. “But you’re here with me,” he points out, “and why aren’t we your type?”

Soarynn pretends to think for a second before answering, “I like boys with longer hair.”

Oh, that hurts. If only he could show her how long his curls used to be. She’d be on him in seconds if she knew.

“Well, I didn’t get much say in the matter. Have you ever cut your hair?”

Soarynn shakes her head, her nose slightly wrinkling as if the very thought of it is repulsive. “Never cut it. Some women are superstitious about cuttin’ their hair, I just never had the urge to do it. Plus if I ever did have to cut it to sell it, I’d like to get my money's worth.”

Is this what it’s come to in the Districts? Cutting hair to sell it? Who wants to buy hair?

Coriolanus takes another good look at Soarynn. It’s hard to imagine her hair chopped to her shoulders but he thinks she’d look pretty still. She’s got the right face shape for it and her jaw juts out in just the right way. His eyes wander down her small, slender frame. If she was naked he’s sure she’d be all skin and bones, you can probably see how many ribs she has.

He remembers what that was like. Being poor and hungry. The worst two feelings in the world. But she seems happy as she gazes out into the meadow. Can’t miss what you never had he decides.

“You know, if you ever need money…I could help you out. Of help with whatever you need,” he says, already feeling like more of a hero to her.

Soarynn snorts and he frowns, what’s so funny? When she sees his expression she laughs even harder and shakes her head, “You don’t need to be my hero sweetheart. I really appreciate it but I don’t want your money.”

Well, then what does she want?

Coriolanus scratches the back of his neck, “Is there anything you from me then?”

He’d sure hope so. Here he was with this girl out in the middle of nowhere when he could be back on base with cool air blowing all around him.

Soarynn peered up at him through her long eyelashes, “I can think of a few things,” she mumbles with a grin.

At least they’re somewhat on the same page now.

Coriolanus doesn’t hesitate to lean in, his hand cupping her face as his lips press against hers. Her lips taste like sweet syrup and she smells like vanilla. Soarynn’s hands rest on his biceps, slightly squeezing them. His training has given him muscles he’s never seen before and he’s not complaining.

He drops the bag of ice to grab her waist with his other hand, his palm pressing into the back of her spine through her dress. Soarynn sighs into the kiss, one of her hands coming up into his hair, carding her fingers through it. She smiles against his lips, “Might just make an exception for you and your buzzed hair,” she mumbles. He pulls her in closer, wishing he could crawl into her skin and never let her go.

Soarynn isn’t the first girl he’s kissed and he doubts she’ll be the last. But right now she’s the only one who matters, the only person that matters here in District Twelve. Besides him of course.

He gets her to lie down on the rock, propping himself over her while they explore each other’s mouths. She’s so soft and sweet, and small, he likes how much bigger he is compared to her. How he could break her in half if he really wanted to.

They’re much more handsy once she’s lying down. Her hands slip under his white shirt, her fingertips tracing over his sculpted abdomen sending shivers down his back. Coriolanus presses one more kiss to her lips before kissing down her jaw, peppering her neck with kisses while his hand slips onto her thigh. He should probably ask if she’s okay with this, if she wants more, wants less. If she’s a virgin.

Probably not.

A girl like her knows a thing or two about men and their sexual urges.

His hand slips under her dress and he can feel the fabric of her panties. They’re probably old, well-worn, maybe the only pair she owns. Who knows what they can afford out here in Twelve.

Just as his hand is slipping under the fabric of her panties, a hissing sound pulls Coriolanus from his lustful haze. He glances to the right and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees a snake has slithered its way onto the rock.

“Shit,” he swears, getting off of her so they can both run. Soarynn’s eyes fly open, most likely confused as to why he’s stopped kissing her and she looks over to see the reptile currently threatening their lives. “Oh, hey there little fella.”

Coriolanus is on his feet within seconds, breathing heavily as he eyes the snake. Maybe he could shoot it, but he’d feel kind of bad killing an animal in front of Soarynn.

And Soarynn isn’t making any sudden moves to get off the snake rock. In fact, she grabs the snake. It slithers through her fingers and around her arms as if it’s her domesticated pet. She doesn’t even seem frightened by it. She looks up at him and gives him a small smile, “Don't need to run pretty boy, this here's a corn snake, all bark and no bite."

Coriolanus highly doubts that thing doesn't bite, nor does it bark but he relaxes slightly when he sees how calm the reptile is in her hands.

"Are there a lot of snakes out here?" He asks, suddenly feeling very exposed out here in this meadow with the tall grass, giving any other animals the perfect chance to attack him without him seeing them. Soarynn shrugs, "I guess. They're good for the rats though," she gives him a knowing look, "makes me real sad when they get the little field mice though. They don't cause no one trouble."

A field mouse he could deal with. He's dealing with one right now it seems.

Soarynn reminds him of a mouse. Small, harmless, easy to crush if need be. At the end of the day, they're still vermin no matter how cute they may seem.

Soarynn finally puts the snake back in the grass and watches it slither away before she slips off the rock and joins him, lacing her fingers with his, "Thanks for protectin' me," she jokes, standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

Coriolanus manages to give her a sheepish look. It's not like he intended to abandon her, but she moved so slowly and she clearly didn't seem to have a problem with the snake. "Sometimes you've gotta let your girl handle her own battles," he responds cooly, giving her hand a squeeze.

Her eyes slightly widen before creasing upwards in a smile, "So I'm your girl then? Just like that?"

Had he already called her his girl? He hadn't meant to move so fast or really attach himself to her like this but she seemed alright and it never hurt to know some of the locals, have a spot where he could relax from his Peacekeeping duties.

And Soarynn was pretty. Very pretty. He hadn't gotten a good look at her under that dress but he was planning to and that meant keeping her around for a little longer. Besides, he wouldn't be in District Twelve forever. No. He planned on getting back to the Capitol one way or another to finish what he started. He'd have some fun for now and then get the hell out of here.

"Yep," he replies, "unless you're stringing along some other guy."

Nows her chance to come clean, to tell him if Billy Taupe isn't the only person he has to worry about because he'll be damned if he's being played.

Soarynn shakes her head, "Just you and me sweetheart."

| Part 1. |

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