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femmefatalevibe · 10 months

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25 Life Lessons I've Learned In 25 Years

In honor of turning 25 this month, here are some lessons I wish someone could've baked into my brain by 18. Hope this helps xx

Putting yourself first is not selfish, it is an act of self-care. Actively discounting others is not the same as protecting your peace.

Pay attention to who gossips and keeps to themselves amidst an interpersonal conflict. Insecure people or those in the wrong will speak the loudest and go on the longest in a fight to prove their innocence. Individuals who are self-assured and comfortable with the truth know it's better to communicate their feelings appropriately and then move past it. Confidence is assertive, tactful, and relatively silent.

If you want to know who to believe in an argument, pay attention to how both sides speak about the conflict. The perpetrator will often speak about the individuals' character/morality while the victim will explain their personal experience in the context of the relevant situation.

Display empathy and consideration, but don't live to satisfy others' emotional needs and expectations. Say farewell to anyone who dismisses or guilts you for your own needs, emotions, priorities/life goals & aspirations.

Your needs matter. No one needs to approve or validate your desires. If someone feels they have control over you or tries to persuade you to change your mind to ensure you put their emotions and needs first, cut them out of your life. They do not care about you.

Almost no one deserves insider access into your life and mind. Upholding your right to privacy – especially regarding your finances, dating life, health conditions/concerns, and long-term goals – is the simplest way to protect your peace.

A friend to all is a friend to none. Be wary of those who will not stand up for you behind closed doors. These people do not care about you, they care about what your place in their life does for them and their ego.

Be radically honest and accepting of who you are. Don't apologize for your preferences, aspirations, and values. You deserve to live in a way that makes you happy, not to appease others in hopes of their approval or future favors due to your karmic good deeds.

You deserve happiness, love, and nice things, life experiences, relationships, and opportunities in your life regardless of what others may or may not possess/ be able to experience. Dispel this scarcity mindset ASAP. Jealousy and internalized shame are destructive to your self-esteem and all your relationships.

You are worthy and offer many incredible, unique gifts to the world. Don't allow naysayers, critics, or bullies (of any age) to dim your light or sacrifice pursuing your dreams. Decide you're the leader of your own life. Then act accordingly.

Direct communication is always the way. Remain tactful, but at least when dealing with non-manipulative people, always say what you mean and mean what you say. It will save a lot of trouble and petty disagreements that could've been avoided with clearer communication.

You don't owe anyone an explanation for your feelings, emotions, and actions that don't have a direct, inescapable impact on someone else. "No" is a complete sentence.

Approach conversations as a meeting of the minds. Healthy debate or conflict is about seeking to understand the other person, not prove yourself right. Leaving your ego at the door will allow you to expand your mind and avoid many unnecessary conflicts or arguments.

If it's not a hell yes, it's a no. For a job, date, sex, attendance at a time-sucking social event, family gatherings, an informal meeting not essential for you to keep your job, a wedding, birthday party, holiday invitation, etc. Outside of your contracted hours and time necessary to keep yourself/your home clean & well-maintained, you should spend your time exactly as you please. Doing things you don't want to do will only breed resentment down the line toward yourself and others.

Detangle yourself from any who refuses to self-reflect and take accountability. This person is selfish and will never see you as fully human with emotions, needs, and a complete life/internal world of your own. Cut them out (or at least fully emotionally detach and limit contact with them) immediately.

Speak your truth, but always say a little less than you feel necessary. Overexplaning and oversharing do you no favors. At a minimum, this approach allows you to protect your peace. In the worst circumstances, this tactic can also save you from a lot of trouble in your personal or professional life.

Learn to ask for a little more than you're comfortable with, but do so with grace, tact, and confidence. Whether it's a salary/rate negotiation, flight/hotel/restaurant accommodations, get in the habit of making that slightly higher/up-leveled request like you're expecting a "yes." You can't get something you don't ask for, so speak up and show you know your worth. This habit can bring a lot of great opportunity into your life and builds up your confidence.

Everyone is on their own timeline and path. Don't compare yourself to others' credentials, job titles, relationship status, net worths, or jean sizes. Comparison is truly the thief of joy. Remaining envious of others only takes up the energy that could otherwise be used to elevate or enrich your life.

Become clear on your priorities, and remain diligent with your habits & routines. Set SMART goals. Implement healthy habits and rituals into your daily lifestyle. Be consistent with goal-supporting and wellness rituals (generous sleep schedule, healthful eating habits, daily movement/regular exercise, reading, task time-blocking, cleaning, and life/work admin schedule), so they become second nature. Help yourself by creating these default habits to ensure your brain is wired for success whether you're in an easygoing era or a stressful life season.

Stop seeing other people (especially other women) as your competition in your profession/dating life and within your platonic relationships. Use your immediate criticisms as a tool for self-reflection. Actively deconstruct the patriarchy in every aspect of your life. Other women coworkers, dating prospects, and friends are not your rivals nor individuals who should be evaluated based on their assertiveness, sexual history/appeal, relationship status, or desire to perform traditional maternal/domestic roles.

Understanding how to interact with others in a cordial, tactful manner is significantly more important than having everyone like you. Learn how to positively influence people without seeking approval. What other people think of us is none of our business. All we can do is show up as the best version of ourselves, and remain optimistic about a potential connection.

Acceptance, accountability, and consistent discipline are the holy trinity to creating a sustainable change that you can maintain for the long haul. There's no shame in starting from the bottom, but you need to be honest about where you're at, so you can create a realistic game plan/small behavior-changing habits that stack up over time to help you implement the radical change you're craving.

Let go of any internalized shame. Being the "good girl" does you no favors in life. Set a standard and expectation to be respected, not to be perceived as "innocent" or submissive – this is how you get taken advantage of in professional, platonic, and intimate relationships. Remain ravenous for respect. It's the only way to live life to the fullest.

24. Investing in your appearance is a form of self-respect. Wanting to look & feel your best and present yourself in the best light possible to others is not a superficial pursuit. Remain unwavering about your hygiene/beauty/grooming routines, deliberate styling choices, healthy eating & workout habits, and mindfulness of social graces. You're your #1 publicist, so act like it. Life is all about embracing satisfaction with a sprinkle of reputation management.

25. Be unapologetic about your financial ambitions, priorities, investments, savings goals, etc. Financial freedom IS freedom. The only way to change the system is to break it from the inside out. Leverage is everything. Allocate, and assert your (financial) power wisely.

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 1 month

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Two personalities that clash, you and your lieutenant rarely get along, but when it comes to light that Lt. Riley has been messing with things behind the scenes of your life, what will happen when you confront him? Is it really hate that makes you stay in the argument the ensues...or is the tension a little too heavy to ignore?

Word Count: 7.5 k

Warnings:

Author's Note: I was planning on having more out this week, but storms here where I live have set me back a bit in getting things out due to power constantly going down. I'm behind, but I promise things are still coming. We have the steamy risking it without protection fic and the angsty Truth or Dare part 6 coming, so stay tuned!

Lt. Riley doesn’t really want to be here, stuck in the middle of the loud, crowded bar right off base on his night off and yet here he is amidst it all. Just wanted to, he will repeat if pushed for an answer as to why he’s come out and a part of him might even mean it, at least that is what he will try to convince himself of because he can’t accept that he knows it’s a lie.

A strong grip wrapped around his glass from his large hand, he brings his bourbon to his lips as those brown eyes scan the place from within the recesses of his thinner black balaclava that he wears when back in civility. His dark eyes are constantly on the move to disguise their true target, flitting from Soap to Garrick to whoever else is speaking around the small group of tables the taskforce has claimed for the evening only to dart back to one person: you.

He eyes you across the bar chatting up some bloke with mid length black hair and a prominent neck tattoo, smiling and giggling in what looks to be a lively conversation of shared interests and it makes his blood pressure rise until he can feel the heat in his face. Lucky for him that the mask conceals enough, only being pulled up from time to time for him to take a drink or grab a quick smoke.

For whatever reason you both have never really gotten along with one another, even from day one. There is something about your personalities that just does not mix, a tension that always leads to an argument. Maybe it is the similarities in your natures, maybe it is because you aren’t afraid to speak out where he is more subdued and calculated. Whatever the reason doesn’t matter, whenever you are in proximity it is like trying to force gasoline and fire to coexist in the same place without causing destruction. Sure, you can both be professional in the right setting, force yourselves to work together for a common goal as sergeant and lieutenant and you are good at it, but once the threat is gone and you are back on safe ground, the feud ramps right back up.

So it surprises you when the lieutenant immediately agrees to tag along tonight. He usually isn’t too keen on this type of rowdy fun, preferring quieter company, but over the past couple of months it seems like wherever it is you find yourself he is never too far away. It is a free country and he can do as he damn well please, even though it is obvious the way his stare keeps coming back to you.

He may have everyone else fooled, but not you, no. There is no mistaking the feeling you get whenever his gaze falls on you.

You have noticed it more and more in the past couple of weeks the way that somber glare subtly finds you when you are near. Clearly you are doing something right to piss him off and there is something euphoric about forcing his attention to constantly stick to you. Why not play it up? Maybe you like the idea of making him watch as you finally score.

You hope it makes him seethe to see you happy.

Those dark eyes stick to you for a couple hours until finally he has caught what he has been waiting for. He follows your form as you get up from your seat and make your way over towards the bathrooms. He can’t stop himself from taking the opportunity and before you have even let the bathroom door shut behind you, the lieutenant is already on his feet and drawing down his mask as he stalks towards the bastard you were just chatting up a second ago with only one goal in mind.

The same goal he has had for months now anytime you start to get too close to anyone.

Your mystery man has just brought the neck of his beer bottle up and put it to his lips when the shadow from the lieutenant’s large stature casts over the table he is still sitting at. As he looks up he is met with the most intimidating face he has ever seen staring right back at him. The firm stance mixed with the glare in the lieutenant’s eyes within the skull mask gives the man pause and the confidence he once had slips away as he struggles to find his voice.

“Can I help…?” the dark-haired man barely gets out before he is cut off as the lieutenant steps up to him.

“That bird you’re talkin’ to just a moment ago,” Lt. Riley says, his thick British accent deep and viciously harsh from the very first syllable; he’s only got a few minutes to get this done. “Ya best leave ‘er alone if ya know what’s good for ya.”

The man swallows hard trying not to choke as he is caught off-guard by the intense hostility that has seemingly come out of nowhere. “Dude, if she’s with you I’m sorry, I didn’t know. She’s the one that approached me, honest,” he chokes out his apologies, hoping that it will be enough not to get his face bashed in by this hulking specimen of a man.

Lt. Riley ignores his comment and leans down closer to his face, his stare sharp and cruel as he places a heavy hand on his shoulder. His fingers dig in hard until the man winces. “Don’t let me catch ya talkin’ to ‘er anymore tonight, got it? Cause if I gotta come over again you’re gonna wish I didn’t and by then it’ll be too fuckin’ late for ya. I’ll make sure ta put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Do ya understand?”

Eyes wide in fear, the man slowly nods; there is no need to be told twice, not from a man like this. He knows the type of guys that frequent the bar as the military base is not but a few minutes from here and he isn’t looking to get pulverized by a trained professional. A slight tremble in his hand, the man grabs his beer bottle and takes off into the bar with a worried look on his face.

Lt. Riley watches as the man hides himself behind a large group standing around the L-shaped bar near the bartender and a smug sense of satisfaction fills him as he heads back to his own table to finish his drink, content that once again he has succeeded in his mission. It’s not even a couple minutes that pass before the corner of his vision catches a familiar figure exiting the bathroom and heading back to the table he had just left from.

You return to your seat only to find your new friend nowhere to be found. Looking around, you second guess yourself that this isn’t where you are supposed to be, but this is your table; your rum and coke is still right where you had left it. You take your seat and pick up your drink; it’s possible that he had just scurried off somewhere and would be back any second. But as the time passes with no man in sight, frustration begins to wash over you as you realize that this shit is happening again.

It’s been months since you’ve been able to have your needs met by something other than your fingers and for some strange reason no matter how good things seem to be going, it ends in you getting ghosted. Why? Even the few times you’ve had encounters on base the guys you had flirted with for days suddenly go cold and avoid you like the plague.

Is there something wrong with me? you question yourself silently.

Across the way, Lt. Riley downs the last swig of bourbon in his glass, setting it back on the tabletop gently as he situates his mask back down. He doesn’t say a word or offer a goodbye, opting to silently slip out from his seat unnoticed to head outside with a smirk contorting his lips beneath the fabric covering his mouth.

He has gotten what he wanted…well, not all. There is still something else that eats away at him, a specter at the back of his mind, and even as he convinces himself that he is only doing this to make you mad it still lays there in waiting.

Back at your empty table, you finish your own drink and are about to call it a night when you spot your potential lover tucked away at the far end of the bar, hunched down in his seat. It’s odd the way he is sitting; it almost looks like he is trying to avoid being spotted, but that can’t be right, can it? Moving your way through the noisy crowd of people, you make it over to him.

“Thought I lost you,” you say cheerfully and watch him choke into his drink.

He coughs a few times before he is able to get it under control and speak. “Think I’m gonna call it a night,” he says. His response is quick and dismissive as he sets his bottle down and turns to leave, but you are determined to at least get some feedback as none of this is making sense.

You block his path with your stance and watch as his whole body tenses. “Did something happen? I thought we were having a nice time.”

The man uneasily looks around the area, searching for something that he ends up not being able to find, but that only alleviates some of the tension in his brows. “Look,” he says as he turns his attention back to you, “you’re really nice and all, but I’m not interested in getting my head caved in tonight, okay?”

Your cheerful expression falls. “What are you talking about?” you ask in confusion.

He takes a breath; he needs to get out of this conversation fast. “Some big masked guy came over while you were gone and threatened to put me in the ground if I didn’t leave you alone, so that’s what I’m going to do. Don’t know if he’s your ex or something, but I don’t want any part of that,” he confirms. “So, if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna get out of here before he comes back.”

You want to convince him to stay, that there is nothing going on that he needs to worry about, that it’s just your vindictive lieutenant trying to ruin your night, but the way he is shaken up you know there is no stopping him. All you can do is defeatedly watch him walk away as you say goodbye at any chance you had at getting laid tonight.

But this encounter isn’t completely useless; with his revelation things begin to add up now. All this time you thought it was you who scared off your potential lovers somehow, that there was something wrong with you that kept driving them away, but no. It is Lt. Riley who is going around threatening people to stay away from you, you are sure of it now.

And that makes you see red. What even is his endgame? Things have always been tense between you two, but this is going too far. You need to find out why and now because this is becoming unbearable. He has messed with your life long enough without your knowledge; tonight it is all going to end.

You turn your head back over to where the lieutenant had been seated and you spot his glass still sitting on the table. He couldn’t have left that long ago if his empty cup hasn’t even been cleared yet; if you leave right now and hurry, you probably will catch him. Quickly getting the bartender’s attention you pay your tab and immediately head out into the night ready to get your answers.

Each step makes your heartbeat pound a little faster the closer you get to base. Fueled by the uninhibited state you find yourself in from of the couple of drinks you had, you don’t want the moment to dissipate; you need your anger to power your words so that your lieutenant knows just how far over the line he has crossed.

You make it back on base and head in the direction of the barracks, passing by the dark offices and other buildings that are seemingly empty for the night. It’s late so there are not many places he can be and soon you can see them come into view. That is when you catch a figure leaning against the brick, the light from a cigarette glowing orange dimly in the shadow and you know you have him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” you spit the venom-filled words to him as you come to stand at his side, arms crossing tightly across your chest as you stop.

The lieutenant ignores you, keeping his face straight ahead as he brings his cigarette up to his lips, ignoring your presence like you aren’t even there as he takes a long drag. The audacity he has to disregard you completely after all he’s been up to behind your back makes your blood boil over and you react fast. Instantly you reach out and rip the dwindling cig out of his fingers to flick it angrily to the ground; only then does he acknowledge your existence.

“Don’t know what your fuckin’ on ‘bout princess,” he grumbles as he pulls out the pack of smokes from his jeans pocket and takes out another cigarette, placing it in between his lips as he lights it up and takes a few short puffs to get it going.

Christ, did you fucking hate when he calls you that, all condescending and shit and he knows it too. That’s why he always uses it, just to watch the way it makes your skin prickle and your pulse race as it riles you up…just like it’s doing right now.

Your cheeks are burning red hot with your anger and you know by the feeling alone that it is visible even in the low light. “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you accuse. “Thought you could ruin my fun and I would just never hear about it, did you? Well, guess what, I did. Guess you didn’t intimidate the guy back at the bar as good as you thought ‘cause he told me all about how you threatened him into staying away from me and now things around here are starting to make sense.”

So, pretty boy talked after all that scaring he had done; fucking hell, he wasn’t planning on being found out tonight. He can’t deal with this right now; he needs to get away before this gets out of hand. “I’m not doin’ this right now,” he mutters as he flicks away his second cigarette and begins to walk off.

You are right on his heels. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me,” you say as you quickly follow him as he takes off inside to a random room not far from the entrance. You barely register anything about the place, only caring about making sure you are on the right side of the door so he can’t lock you out until you’ve said your peace.

Slamming the door, you press your back up against it. There is nowhere for him to go, not with how you are blocking the exit and it is clear that you won’t be leaving. Goddammit, why tonight? The lieutenant isn’t drunk, but he still has enough liquor running through his veins and he is weary of being alone with you.

You aren’t going to let him be, though; your anger won’t let you. “Well, you got anything to say or are you going to stay silent like a fucking coward?” you ask pointedly.

His fist at his side clenches and unclenches to match his jaw beneath the mask. Gasoline and fire; he can’t stop himself from matching your energy. “Fine, ya wanna know the truth? It was me. You’re distractin’, sergeant,” he says, that heavily accented voice harsh with his assertions. “Throwin’ yourself ‘round like a bloody slag ‘tween the men here and at the bar. Ya like that? Being a cheap piece a meat? Ya think that’s a good look for your rank on this team, hmm?”

You shake your head with a forced incredulous laugh before turning your gaze back to him. The only person who is ever allowed to make decisions about your actions is you; whatever you choose to do or not do isn’t up for debate with any outside party. “What I do on my own time is none of your goddamn business. If I want to screw every member of this operation, I will. If I want to fuck a rando from the bar, so be it. It’s my choice and you need to stay out of it.”

It’s a lie, you have no intention of becoming some barracks bunny, but that doesn’t make the point any less true. There’s nothing wrong with a little companionship from time to time and you aren’t going to let him take that from you. This job is hard enough as it is. Still you can’t shake the question that is floating around in your head.

Why does he care so much to go to all this trouble? Why not just stay away?

The Lt. peers down his nose at you, those striking amber eyes looking at you through the opening in his balaclava to give him a dangerous appearance as they are cloaked in shadow. Standing in front this beast of a man has left many shaking in their boots, but not you, never you. Fuck him if he thinks this bit of intimidation is going to do anything; it’s not.

“It is my goddamn business,” he growls. “Ya talk a big fuckin’ game, but ya don’t know what the hell your doin’. Gonna get yourself in trouble one a these days.”

“Oh, so you’re just looking out for me is that it?” you ask. “I don’t need a savior. I can take care of myself, you know.”

Even he can’t deny that you can handle whatever it is that comes your way. He has worked beside you for quite a while now and there is a reason you were selected to this task force in the first place. No, it isn’t his need to protect that causes him to put himself where he doesn’t belong, but he can’t face the truth; he can’t…can he?

“Besides, what the hell do you care, Lt.?” you spit the question harshly into his face to break him out of his thoughts. “Just like to screw with my life as a part of some goddamn powerplay? You got nothing else better to do than fuck everything up? Pathetic, even for you.”

The lieutenant’s jaw shifts as his dark eyes are silhouetted within the confines of his mask silently stare back into your own. There is a glint in their depths, a catch of the light that makes them glisten as he locks your vision in that stoic glare.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone there, princess,” he warns as he moves in closer until the tips of your shoes are nearly touching. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, you’re gonna get fuckin’ burned. Ya best quit it now or else.”

Taking your pointer finger, you lean forward and poke the tip of the digit directly onto his sternum over his t-shirt and push down. “Make me.”

Hearing those two deadly words come from your mouth while being this close with emotions this high makes his brain short-circuit and he scrambles to get control of the thoughts at the back of his mind; no, he can’t let them get out. For a split second you catch a flash of something in his gaze that gives you pause and leaves you with a strange but familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach before it is gone just as fast as it came on.

Flustered and confused, you don’t notice that his hand has moved from his side until it is wrapped around your wrist as he wrenches yours off his chest and smacks it against the door, pinning it there next to your head. “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice right now,” he threatens as he gets into your face. “Keep it up and see what happens.”

The lieutenant is so close now the sensation from the warm air leaving his mouth is felt against the lower half of your face even through the fabric of his mask. You can smell the bite from the tobacco and liquor as he exhales a weighty, ragged breath. There is a curious tension permeating the space now, filling the area around your bodies until your chest begins to ache with anticipation for something you can’t put into words.

What are you wanting to happen? You aren’t entirely sure you want to admit it, but still there is a growing impatience that makes your limbs tingle as you wait for the moment to break. “You’re not going to do shit,” you scoff. “I haven’t been touched in fucking months and it’s all your fault; you think I care about showing you respect? The way I see it, you have two options: either leave me the fuck alone or I make your life a waking nightmare until you do.”

Why aren’t you shoving him away? Your wrist is still gripped in his fist and yet you haven’t even tried to free it. Sure, your words are ruthless and heated, but you’re still here and he doesn’t understand what is happening. The atmosphere is shifting and he can feel it like a perplexing magnetism, a push and pull that he is finding harder and harder to fight off. He needs you to leave and quickly as he isn’t sure how long he can last under this growing torment.

“Ya best get out, now,” he growls under his breath. “It ain’t a good idea for you to be here anymore.”

His threat does little to make you back down and instead you tilt your head with a cocky smirk on your lips. “Why’s that? Can’t take the fact that someone can actually stand up to you?”

“Not that,” he says curtly.

“Then what?” you push him for the answer.

Lt. Riley stays closemouthed to your question. How the hell is supposed to answer that when your pulse is pounding through your veins and he can count the rapid beats through his palm that is around your wrist? He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves the feeling of it.

The silence is heavy and dangerous, too much and you aren’t sure what is going to happen, but you can’t leave with nothing; one of the many questions you have has to get a response at least. “Fine, you don’t want to answer that one I’m not gonna make you, but if you want me to leave you are going to have to give me something. I’ll go back to my original question: why do you care about any of this?”

The lieutenant is suffocating on the strength of the tension shared between you. It’s intoxicating, more than the whiskey he’s consumed tonight. Try as he might, he can’t stop himself from wanting more and suddenly the fingers on his free hand are lightly grazing along the waistband of your jeans in that sliver of space between your shirt and your pants where just a millimeter of skin can connect with his touch. It’s too late for him now; he can’t let you go.

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat at the electricity of the contact. The longer his touch lingers on your body the more disoriented your thoughts become until you aren’t sure what is happening. You desperately want to slap him, shove him off and storm out, but a secret part of you that has started to glow like a tiny ember in your chest quietly begs for him to keep going.

Why can’t you tell him to stop?

“I can’t let anyone get to ya,” he murmurs with a labored inhale. “Don’t care what it costs.” Those hazel eyes with their blown out pupils never break the connection with yours as his fingers draw a line over your warm, soft skin and suddenly it’s near impossible to pull in enough air to keep you sane.

“Why?” you ask. “Hate to see me enjoying myself? Just want to keep me miserable, is that it?”

Those rough, thick fingers risk a bit more as they slip ever so slightly up so that his palm can rest against the meat of your hip and that’s where he stops. His gaze drifts down just a moment to admire how far his touch has gotten. This is the closest you both have ever been in the time you’ve known each other and it is overwhelming.

A shift in his stance, a half step in closer, his hand still resting against that soft, balmy flesh, and is that the pounding beat of your heart you hear pulsing in your ears? You need him to say something, anything, in hopes that it will break the spell that is making you more delirious by the minute.

“Say it!” you demand as you wrestle with the flood of sensations.

His eyes drift back to your face. “ ‘cause,” he says, that gruff, masculine voice making his words firm, “if I can’t fuckin’ ‘ave ya, then no one can.”

The confession knocks the wind from your lungs and you struggle to intake a breath. This has to be a new game he’s playing at; that’s it, a new tactic to make you lose your shit and destroy you in new ways. There’s no way he is serious, right? You study his gaze for any sign of deception, for him to crack and mock you for falling for it, but all that meets you is a fervent stare that makes your body burn.

“Fucking bastard,” you snarl as your resolve to break away from him slips silently away.

“Slag,” he responds.

A few seconds drag on into eternity as you stare back into those dark eyes, your heartbeats racing faster and faster with each labored breath you intake from one another. This isn’t how this is supposed to go, you are supposed to hate each other, but is that really what it is?

You’re the only one who has always treated him like a person, not some monster to be feared. It’s true you fight and bicker and drive each other mad at times, but not once have you ever backed down from him. You’re headstrong and steadfast in yourself and that is something he respects. And more than that, he desires.

His words, why do they sound so good? If it was anyone else you would have slapped them silly and told them to fuck off, but the way he covets you feels like ecstasy. You enjoyed his attention before and now that you have all of it, it’s all you could ever want. There is an ache in you now that can only be quenched one way and that is from him.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins blurs that thin line between hatred and desire until it no longer exists. As if another is piloting his body he cannot stop. All at once something snaps and before you can fully comprehend the action, he is shoving his body into yours as his hand wraps around your throat. A wall of massive, bulky muscle presses tightly into your curves, pinning you to the surface as he wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips and grabbing your face between his hands, those large, rough things that have more experience holding a weapon than something soft and tender within them, he meets your mouth with an insatiable intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

Things you’ve both buried deep rise to the surface as the dam breaks wide open, feelings that you both had suppressed under the guise of hatred because you couldn’t…no, you wouldn’t admit that maybe there was something there. It all comes pouring out into the kiss with a feverish urgency as you unsuccessfully scramble to contain them.

There is no restraining this fire of desire from catching you both ablaze.

Lt. Riley’s grip is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn as the brunt of his need is forced upon your lips until they sting the harder he presses into you while the stumble along his jaw pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth. The taste of the bourbon that he had been imbibing all night is on his breath, crisp and sharp as it hits your tongue with its bite, but it does nothing to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace and matching it with your own.

You want him tighter against you still and your hands run up the back of his head through the cropped bits of hair that have popped out from below the edge of his pulled up mask. The feeling of your fingers running through the short hairs near his neck as you bear down on his mouth make that hulking military man shudder and you sigh delightedly into him at the reaction.

Is it really that easy to make that big man fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him.

Strong fingertips jab themselves into your hip so that he can pull your pelvis flush against his while he shoves his boot between your feet to pry your legs apart, widening your stance so that he can fit his bulky thigh between them. The curve of your hip is accentuated by the position and he runs a heavy hand across the length of it as he pushes up against your pussy and you both gasp into each other’s mouths from the feeling.

That instant pressure against that gnawing ache in your clit has you grinding on his thigh. “Christ, Simon,” his name falls from your lips onto his while you cling to his neck to hold your body up as you push down on him as hard as you can to get enough friction through your clothing. He lets you have at it, using his leg however you see fit until you can feel the gathering moisture in the crotch of your panties.

“Do you even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he growls, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tastebuds as he shoves his tongue into your mouth past your lips to meet your own so that they can dance.

He has a taste for you now, a craving that cannot be quenched, an insatiable hunger that eats him alive. And he needs more.

Catching your bottom lip, he sucks it in between his teeth to give it a fierce nip that smarts, but you like the pain; it only makes you feel more alive as the aggressive nature of your attraction makes you feel like you are drowning.

“Fuck, need it now,” you demand desperately. “Where can we go?”

The question makes him pause and Simon pulls from your mouth to look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you. “Ya know where we are, dontcha?” he teases.

Your eyes drift from him and really look at your surroundings for the first time since you got in here; you are in a bedroom, not just a random room like you thought. There is a small chest of drawers beside a bed not far from where you stand and on top is laying that familiar hard shell skull mask.

You’re in his room.

“Shut up,” you breathe. “Just fuck me already, bastard.”

“So fuckin’ nasty,” he says with a smirk before he is back on your mouth again.

Coarse hands desperately paw at your clothes as softer ones claw at his, undoing buttons, pulling off shirts, shoving down pants; a flurry of lips caressing while limbs frantically move until both of you stand bare naked before each other. The last is his mask that he removes himself; he is about to be inside of, there is no need to hide from you anymore.

You barely have time to take in his striking features: that strong jaw accentuated with old, faded scars, that prominent nose, that stern brow, before two strong arms pick you up and carry you the few short steps to his bed, forcing you down and shoving you onto your back so that you are pressed down against the surface as he clambers on top with you. His hands part your legs like warm butter and he keeps them spread as he positions himself on his knees between your thighs.

Quickly he leans over to the short chest of drawers and flings open the bottom most one, reaches inside, and grabs a small, square packet. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger he brings it to his lips and grabs it with his teeth, shredding the top to pull out the rubber. He tosses the packaging to the floor and in one swift motion, slips the condom over the fat tip of his girthy cock and rolls it down the long shaft.

That is it, without another sound he sits back up and clenches his abdominal muscles while his strong fingers hold onto the meat of your hips as he makes sure he is aligned with your entrance. “Ready, princess?” he asks through short, quick breaths.

Your hands grip into his shoulder blades. “Stop fucking talking and get inside me,” you order aggressively.

The tip of his cock is prodding against your opening and you are panting with anticipation as you wait to feel it break through the threshold. It’s right there, right at the point you need it to be to give you the relief you’ve been seeking after the months of agony during your dry spell. Then all at once Simon’s hips rock forward and the head slips inside, stretching you wide open.

You gasp and buck your hips as he gathers the strength for another thrust to slip it in a little more; you are taking him so well. God, he could not ask for more. One more strong thrust and his cock rips into you deep until he reaches the base, bottoming out with a loud, guttural moan.

“N-nh… ah…” Simon groans as he twitches from the constriction around him. “Fuckin’ hell princess, your so tight…oh, f-fuck.”

Breathing through the intense feeling of being stuffed full you roll your hips into him to send shock waves of ecstasy through his shaft and his head falls forward to hang limply as he attempts to calm himself enough that he doesn’t blow his load right here and now just from that initial contact.

“Gimme a second,” he growls, but you shake your head.

“No,” you say, “waited too long for this.”

You will be the death of him and what a fucking sublime death it will be.

Fine, if you want fast and rough that is what you are going to fucking get. He holds on tight as he begins to pound into you hard, making you bounce with the force of his thrusts up and down as he takes you at this unyielding pace. You are anything but fragile and he uses that to his advantage to be as animalistic as he wants.

The longer he drills his cock into you in that relentless tempo the more lost in the feeling he gets until he is completely ravenous only for the sensation of your body. He has waited so long for this, dreamt endlessly of this, yearned in secret for months for this, and it feels exhilarating to finally have it.

His primal grunts fill the room the harder he gets and you are suddenly swept up in it all as your needs are finally being met. You lose yourself in the moment, whimpering and whining as the euphoria washes over your body to make your limbs tingle. Soon you are so loud that you are surely going to draw unwanted attention.

Reaching out his fingers find your lips and roughly he pries them apart so he can shove two of those thick digits inside your mouth. “Keep quiet,” he grunts as he continues to thrust. “Don’t need anyone hearin’ us before I’ve finished with ya.”

Getting you quiet, he needs something for himself and he knows just the thing. Leaning down over your body, his hot mouth latches on to the side of your throat just below your ear and you feel the sharp sting as his teeth dig into the supple flesh. The pressure is so hard from the suction of his lips you can almost feel the skin bubble up further into his mouth; there is no question that there will be a big, angry, purple blotch by tomorrow if he keeps at it. A token of who has claimed you.

And he is going to make sure it sticks.

It is a while before he unlatches his mouth and when he does he brings his lips up from your throat to your ear to fill your mind with only his voice as his hand finds the top of your pussy so that his finger can stroke over your clit. You’re gonna come and you’re gonna come hard if he has anything to do with it. “Look at ya, fallin’ apart just for me, princess. God, I wanna fuckin’ ruin ya.”

Simon pulls his fingers out of your mouth so that he can kiss your raw lips, making you swallow all his desperation until you are gasping for air. “I’d do whatever it takes just have ya all to myself,” he says, the words husky in his throat as he groans them into your mouth. “Need ya to belong to me and only me.”

Simon leaves your mouth to sit up higher, taking the pressure off his knees and pulling your body up slightly with him, and that’s when he catches a glimpse of your bodies at the point of their union and fuck is it a beautiful sight. The way he disappears inside of you is mesmerizing and he doesn’t want to look away, but he also needs you to see it. You need to know how both your bodies are made for each other.

His hand moves to the back of your neck and tilts your face down. “Look at how well your gorgeous body takes me. Do ya think anyone else can give ya this?”

Your dreamy gaze drifts lower between both of your bodies and stares at Simon’s imposing figure with his chiseled abdominal muscles as they contract and release with each thrust, his hips plowing into you, filling you up completely as each of his thrusts go down to the very base of his shaft. Your mind is in a daze as you feel him hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you time and again before his shaft reappears covered more and more with your juices over the condom.

There is something so primal about watching his cock slip in and out of your tight body, watching as you slowly fall into oblivion.

His amber eyes catch yours and he smirks. Your cheeks are flushed bright and it thrills him to know that it is because of how he makes your body feel. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a picture wrapped ‘round my cock like this,” he groans, his strokes becoming more sloppy as the slapping sounds of your overly wet cunt get louder.

The longer he thrusts the more his sanity wanes until there is not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he comes. You can see the change wash over his face and through his eyes and it only thrills you more as he becomes a hunter ready to catch his prey; it makes you shiver.

“Ya like the way my cock feels inside ya, dontcha?” he asks in a low growl. “Fillin’ ya full, stretchin’ ya out. Ya think anyone else can give it to ya like this? Ya think anyone else is gonna make ya come as hard as I’m gonna fuckin’ make ya? This pussy is gonna belong ta me after I’m done with it.”

Ragged, broken moans escape your lips while your hips rut up to meet him at the height of each thrust as his voice begins to push you over. Your hands around his shoulders tense and as he strikes into you again your nails dig in, raking across his back in angry red lines that tingle and burn as you drag them down over his muscles. Oh, you are definitely close.

“Ya gonna come for me, princess?” he teases mercilessly, desperately clinging to you as he too is about to spill and wanting you to go first. “Do it then. Come on my fuckin’ cock.”

The way this beast of a man is wrapped around your body, you are completely at his mercy, his size letting him do with you as he pleases and you have no say whatsoever. And yet here he is furiously pounding into you harder and harder as his fingertip strokes at your clit; he is doing his utmost to get you off even though he could leave you high and dry at any moment.

Never have you ever wanted someone to take away your power more than you want him to right now.

Your hands leave his body only to gather in the sheets, gripping them so tight you can hear threads popping and feel the strain on your fingers. Each slam of that throbbing cock into you causes the warmth to grow in your stomach, each second that passes the pressure gets stronger and stronger. Finally at long last, you fall completely silent and with a few more desperate thrusts that pressure is released and shoots through you white hot as you come hard and fast.

Simon continues to grind into your pussy through your whimpers as he lets himself go and within a few more seconds he too is falling over that ledge, his torso shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he pumps all that built up frustration into the tip of the condom inside you. His hips buck and are punctuated with deep groans until he has nothing left to release and he slowly comes to a stop, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs to help him catch his breath again.

You both stay locked that way as you calm yourselves back down from the high, your legs trembling around his waist, the sound of his inhales the only thing to break the quiet that falls over the room. Once he is able to he pulls out and falls down onto the bed beside you.

Moving onto your side, you look over at him with a smirk. “Well, shit, never would have expected that,” you mutter sleepily.

He turns his head to face you. “Is that right?” he asks in that low, gravely tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “As if you haven’t been flauntin’ yourself to keep my attention. Was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Like you haven’t been undressing me with your eyes for months now,” you push back. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me.”

Reaching out his arm, his fingers lock into your hair, tying it into a ponytail in his grip before he gives it a strong tug. “Yeah well we’re gonna change that. Cause I wanna be the only person ya look at, princess,” he says harshly so you know he means business, “the only one that holds your attention, the only that gets ta be in your ‘ead. I’m gonna be the only one that gets between your legs and no one else; I wanna be the one that knows just how ta make ya fall apart. And any bastard that tries to get in my way is going to fuckin’ get it.”

You chuckle. “Possessive much,” you say snarkily only to receive a solid tug on your hair.

“Absolutely gonna be selfish with ya,” he returns as he brings your face in closer, “cause I would rather fuckin’ die than watch anyone else take this away from me.”

Pulling your head to him, Simon licks the smile from his lips before latching onto your mouth one last time. Maybe you two can find common ground after all…can’t be too mad at each other when you’re making each other orgasm.

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hedgehog-moss · 2 months

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In my neverending quest to keep Pampérigouste from achieving her dreams, I have launched a formal investigation into her last escape, which I had no explanations for at the time.

I figured it out! At the far far end of her pasture, near the road, a few fence posts have become more or less horizontal (the ground is quite wet / muddy there so they've never been very stable, especially with Pirlouit using them to scratch his forehead)—so instead of a high jump + long jump combo to get to the road, Pampe just had to clear the long jump over the ditch. Which is still impressive.

I also suspect that she chose to escape from this place near the road on a snowy morning as a deliberate strategy, knowing the snow plough would erase any traces of her jump, thus preventing me from discovering where the weak spot in the fence was. Well done.

You need 2 people to fix these fence posts so in the meantime I decided to kill two birds with one stone: cut all the broom and thorny bushes in this corner of the pasture and use them to form a discouraging barrier. I set to work earlier this week, and here's the same place as above, mid-process:

When I texted my mum to tell her about my new thorn-based anti-Pampe plan of action, she said "Like the Maasai who make fences with thorny acacia branches to keep out lions!" and it made me feel even more confident. I mean, I have neither acacia nor Maasai fencing techniques but my thorny shrubs are pretty aggressive, they pricked my fingers even through my thick work gloves—which felt satisfying in an anticipatory way. Excellent! prick Pampe's nose exactly like this. How could a llama not be deterred by a fence material that deters apex predators?

Vexingly enough, she seemed quite supportive of my efforts. At one point she breathed some warm air against my shoulder in a gentle, patronising way.

We were engaged in psychological warfare all afternoon—every time I stepped away from my vegetal fence, feeling like it was now good enough, Pampe would immediately come to inspect it, cheerful and impatient, which sapped my confidence so I would go and add a few more shrubs. (Note that I sort of plaited the first / biggest shrubs with the pre-existing fence so they don't go flying on the road, and so Pampe can't just push them aside.)

On the right: Poldine, looking for little fresh leaves to eat amidst the chaos. On the left: Pampérigouste, thinking.

(At this point the barrier was only 20% thorns, and 80% broom—the fact that she waded through it without a care and didn't prick her belly made me go and add more thorny shrubs, and pack them more densely)

It's kind of fun watching Pampe think, honestly. Can I jump over this? Do I have enough visibility? Can I eat my way to freedom (again)? But these shrubs are disgusting. Am I above exploiting my daughter's lack of culinary discernment to achieve my goals? Maybe I should go back to my calculations re: probability of wild boar destruction. I may have pincushions for hands after handling prickly bushes for two hours but I'm helping stimulate my llama's intellect and creativity and that's so important.

I tried to alternate broom and thorny branches so that the non-thorny broom became tangled up with thorns and brambles to form an impenetrable and incomprehensible wall. I will call it this method the salmagundi-fence.

Poldine is in awe of my vegetal installation.

Can I just say, compared to Pampérigouste who constantly has a devilish glint in her eye, Pampelune's face exudes wholesome politeness and moral goodness. It's still hard to believe they're mother and daughter.

I went home once my fence started looking like Maleficent's forest of thorns and Pampe had long stopped trying to wade through it, but I still felt antsy and ended up coming back one hour later to have my apéritif with the llamas so I could keep an eye on Pampe until nightfall.

... where is Pampe?

Oh. Here. No worries!

Still staring at the road. Still thinking.

...

With all that said, please admire my beautifully delirious Forest of Thorns-fence and let me know what you think.

#crawling along #llama drama #(i am not sponsored by kindle i just had it balanced on my knee)#in the photo where pampe is patronisingly praising my efforts you can see a remnant of the police tape from the jungle fence saga!#i should remove it. She was not intimidated by police tape for very long #if ever at all #anyway i've started planting a few interesting shrubs along the road to form a living fence but it's a very slow process #i'm ages away from reaching this part of the pasture

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fairuzfan · 2 months

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"Imagine a world where instead of raindrops falling from the sky, bombs rain down, and instead of soothing lullabies, the sound of warplanes fills the air. This is the harsh reality for my children, Lama (8) and Hussam (5), and their soon-to-be-born sister. We live in Gaza, a place where hope seems to fade away.

I'm Hamdi, their father, and I feel the heavy burden of ensuring a better future for them.

War has taken away my job, our home, and the very essence of our existence. We now live in makeshift tents, sharing what little we have in this besieged land. Yet, amidst all the destruction, my wife's pregnancy brings a glimmer of hope.

Her growing belly symbolizes hope in this bleak environment, but I can't help but worry about the world we're bringing our child into.

Friends in Egypt have offered us a chance to escape this nightmare, but the path to safety is blocked by a daunting barrier: the border crossing demands $5,000 for each life to pass through.

I plead with you, don't let my children become victims of war.

Your contribution, no matter how small, could be the key to unlocking a future free from fear and filled with opportunities.

Your assistance could mean the difference between life and death for my family. With your help, we can secure safe passage out of Gaza and begin the journey toward a better future. A future where peace and prosperity prevail.

Thanks for your support, and I'm grateful for any help you can give me during this difficult time."

#palestine #gaza #donation

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abyssruler · 1 year

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would they choose you over the world?

aether (traveler), dainsleif, scaramouche, raiden ei, lumine (abyss), venti, xiao x gn!reader

AETHER thinks he can save both, no, he knows he can. The powers of this world rests at the tips of his fingers. He’s faced monsters and gods and come out alive and better than he was before. There’s no reason to hesitate, none whatsoever to consider his decision but—but. He has never been made to choose before. There was always another way, another choice, another something he could rely on. It’s a moral dilemma, like the situation with the train where you either save five people and kill one person, or kill five people to save one person. It’s easy enough to answer when it was simply that—a moral dilemma created to confuse him, not a world ending decision that lies on his shoulders. To choose one is to doom the other. Most people would choose the world, but while Aether is called a hero and the savior of nations, he is also a person. He looks at your resigned smile, like you already know which one he’ll choose, and he decides to prove you wrong.

DAINSLEIF clings to loss like a dying man does to the edge of a cliff. The inevitability of death and your mortality rests on his shoulders much like weight of his entire nation’s death. He wonders what it says about him that he’d rather have you safe and sound than have the world be saved. Five hundred years of aimless wandering, fighting against the remnants of his fallen nation and watching the world move on while he remains untouched by time, the ghost of a past that can never be returned to. Dainsleif isn’t a hero, he’s tired. All that’s left of him are fading memories of a time gone by and moments with you that he clings to like a lifeline. What has this world ever done for him except cause him pain and needless grief? What has it done to deserve his sacrifice? Nothing. And so he rests, hand in hand with you on withering grass and waits for the world to end. At least, this time, he won’t be alone in watching the heavens descend.

SCARAMOUCHE laughs, and laughs, and laughs until he’s sure even the gods that reside in Celestia has heard the scorn and mockery in his voice. It is so laughably easy to choose you and denounce the world. Let it be turned to ash and dust, let his body dance on top of a desolate world, let him pull you in an embrace and delight in the fact that no sun and no light (for none of these exist anymore) would ever outmatch the brightness in your eyes, the smile on your face, the tinkling sound of your laughter amidst the remains of a world that once threatened to snuff your life like a candle left in the dark. He is like a flame and you, the spark. There’s a tsunami gathering on the horizon, threatening to drown everything in its wake, but instead of preventing it, he revels in the ruin it will bring. It is either your death alone or yours and everyone else, and if you have to die either way, then he will die with you and drag the rest of the world along in his self-appointed destruction. You taught him what it felt to no longer be alone, so he will make sure you’re never lonely, even in death.

EI feels weightless, like a leaf adrift in the wind. It feels like she is back to that moment five hundred (a thousand) years ago, a dilemma, a decision, a choice—follow Makoto to Khaenri’ah, or defend her people from the monsters ravaging the lands? There was uncertainty there, a small seedling of hope that she would arrive not far from Makoto and see her sister alive and waiting, and so she had made the decision to stay—but this? Faced with an ultimatum, the world or your death, Ei finds that the decision is much more difficult, much more devastating but no less heartbreaking. Had it been before, in her lonesome at the Plane of Euthymia, the choice would have been easy, barely a thought in her mind, but everything has changed and Ei wants, in a way she has never wanted before, to be with you. You with your smiles and your laughs and the warmth you induce in her frigid heart—and she finds that she cannot make a choice… so you do it for her. For the greater good.

LUMINE doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even flinch before she turns her back to the world and takes your hand. What good is the world if you’re not there in it? She won’t just stand by and watch as everything she holds dear is destroyed in front of her—not anymore. There is you, there is her, and there is the world burning, and Lumine finds that she can hardly care. Her heart has no place for faceless people, no love left for a world that has done nothing but spurn and trample on everything she had offered. Let it burn if it means having one more second, one more minute, one more lifetime with you. A choice isn’t truly a choice if the other option was never considered, and she will never consider a world without you. There are millions, billions, countless other worlds out there she could take you to. Damn this place, damn the heavens, and damn the consequences. Her brother would understand, he always has, and when Lumine meets him again in a new world, she’ll make sure to introduce you to him.

VENTI wants, like Icarus yearning for the Sun, but Venti is Venti, and Barbatos is Barbatos. Right now, he cannot afford to be that carefree bard who spun tales of your lovely hair and lovelier still lips (cannot be Icarus who flew too close to the sun and fell). Venti wants—but Barbatos knows the best option, the best choice, the least devastating one but the most heart-wrenching one. The situation is funny, laughable, hilarious, really, the kind that makes his stomach ache and brings tears to his eyes that drip down his cheeks and onto the ground and—oh, he’s crying. He’s crying and holding you close and apologizing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, doesn’t deserve the hand carding through his hair and the soft press of your lips on his forehead as you murmur, don’t cry, it’s alright, you’re doing the best you can. But the best means not doing this at all, the best means not having to make a choice at all, the best means not having to say goodbye. It’s okay, you tell him, I forgive you. But he never forgives himself.

XIAO thinks there must be another way, there has to be another way. He won’t accept this, won’t allow himself to choose between losing you or losing everything, because he knows, deep down, that the choice has already been made and it is not the one he wants. But he knows better than most that doing what he wants isn’t always what is needed, that certain sacrifices must be made despite his unwillingness, despite his entire body protesting against it. Rex Lapis once told him that being a god means making difficult decisions. If this is what it means to be a god, then he will accept a life of service, a life of war and fighting and breathing like every second is his last—because pain and suffering are infinitely better than having to wake everyday without your voice by his ear, giggling about how you finally caught him asleep. A world without your light, without your presence, without you is a desolate one. There must be another way, another sacrifice to be made that doesn’t involve you. Just—anything, anyone but you. Even if it has to be him.

#merry christmas <3 #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #aether x reader #dainsleif x reader #ei x reader #raiden ei x reader #raiden shogun x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #lumine x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #gn reader

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brittle-doughie · 3 months

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This can be a situation of 'what if' since the five beast were the first ones then what if they would be the first who began with this whole yandere chaos like- they are the ultimates obsessive over y/n cookie the fallen heroes have the first and high level O_O

-🧁 anon

What If: The First.

Something has to start somewhere. Y/N Cookie is a figure beloved by all, sometimes even a little too much from certain, no wait, a large majority of the cookie population on Earthbread.

They’ve seen a lot from what levels of obsession could offer from simple clinginess to the alters and shrines many create amidst their sickly love.

Y/N Cookie was surprisingly no stranger to these gestures. After all, they’ve seen these similar types of obsessive love elsewhere.

Long ago, many years back….you were a Primordial Cookie alongside your long lasting companions, the Five Beast Cookies.

You remembered all the times you’ve had with them.

The times you laughed. Shadow Milk Cookie would tell you many things about this world, but he also liked to sprinkle in some humor too. He’d even do a sort of jester act by using a puppet show, it never failed to make you chuckle at least once…

The times you chose to help others that made Mystic Flour Cookie warm with you. Your choices to make decisions that befitted your Virtue of Compassion was something of a spectacle for her. She adored that you did not question anything about showing compassion for others, some things don’t always have to come down to choice.

The times you felt safe. Red Spice and Silent Salt Cookie were your protectors. You were a cookie of compassion, but that shouldn’t mean that cookies should push you around. It made the two cookies unhappy and advise the perpetrator to back off. Red Spice was all show while Silent Salt was all quiet, but both make sure that you wouldn’t get harmed under their watch.

The times you loved. Eternal Sugar Cookie was always happy to see you. Compassion and Happiness always worked well together, so it only made sense that you were the closest to her. She’d let you join her on her cloud as you two talked the day away, Eternal Sugar being happy that she got to spend time with you in any form.

Oh, how things went south when power corrupts.

One by one, their will crumbled under the weight of their own strength. The Five became twisted apostles of evil and brought forth darkness and devastation.

This corruption had also brought upon unfortunate side effects to their love for you, twisting and change until it’s nothing but sickly and dark.

Shadow Milk Cookie embraced deceit into his heart, controlling and manipulating the cookies around you. His plan to make you belong to him would be to drive everyone you knew away from you whether it be by his twisted mind tricks or more lethal methods. You’d have no one left but him…

Red Spice Cookie only brought nothing but destruction to whoever dared to challenge his sick obsession with you. No cookie could ever survive an encounter with him, only reduced to smoldering crumbs on the ground. No cookie has ever loved you like he has, because there’d be no one left that could…

Silent Salt Cookie’s protectiveness reached insane levels you’d never expect from them. Cookies that so much as raise a hand in your presence are swiftly cut down by Silent Salt. Cookies can’t even look at you without Silent Salt putting an end to their existence. Their worry for you, and you overall, was worth the lives they stomped on.

No other cookie mattered to Mystic Flour Cookie anymore that wasn’t you. She just didn’t see why you should care for any of these insignificant specks of grain as she casually waves her arm, reducing the whole landscape around her into nothing. No longer did choice matter to her, the decisions she once valued mean little to her if it didn’t help you or her out.

What was once happiness has now turned into a deadly and sickly obsession with you. Eternal Sugar Cookie’s mind hazed with nothing but thoughts of you, unable to get you out of her mind. NEVER wanting to get you out of her mind. Only you could get her off her cloud, she’ll simply yawn and turn away anyone else. She believes her love for you triumphs above anyone else, gleefully obliterating anyone who thinks could challenge her…

You can still hear their screams and shocked gasps when the Creators locked them away, their pained cries and shouts all becoming static in your head.

The Ancient Heroes…

They’ve done well in resisting the temptation of power unlike your former comrades, their affection remaining moderate as a result.

Though, one of them have your doubts..

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northgazaupdates · 4 months

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13 February 2024

Journalist Wadea Abu Alsaoud documents the obliteration of southern Al-Rimal in Gaza City. Previously a beautiful and vibrant area with lovely homes and thriving businesses, the IOF has completely destroyed much of it. Instagram user faridaek provides a full English translation:

"Witness the scale of destruction in this area following the withdrawal of Israeli occupation tanks. The area has been completely destroyed, as you can see. We stand amidst a catastrophe zone where everything-trees, people, and stones-has been obliterated. Not a single house or tower was spared by the occupation's missiles and shells; the area has suffered immense destruction. Nothing here has escaped the reach of the Zionist enemy's missiles and attacks. The homes have been extensively burned and destroyed. We're now in the Southern Rimal area of the Gaza Strip, once among the most prestigious locales and considered the capital of Gaza, now severely damaged. The occupying forces' tanks have left no stone unturned destroying everything. This scenes speaks to the occupation's crimes, brutality, and arrogance towards civilians and their homes in Gaza. These were homes of ordinary people: doctors, professors, engineers, and many who had no ties to the resistance. The destruction here is severe.

Not a single house remains intact—this area is now a disaster zone and completely burnt. I am recording this footage hours after the Israeli tanks's withdrawal. You can support us by sharing these videos and our accounts so the world can see the extent of their brutality and injustice. All we ask for is for you to share our videos so they can reach everyone, in hopes of awakening the world's conscience after 127 days.

Source: Wadea Abu Alsaoud on Instagram

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A post shared by وديع ابو السعود (@wadeaa_.9)

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 36

part 1 | part 35 | ao3

cw: hot girl shit

Steve practically yanks Eddie off stage the second the show ends. Eddie stumbles into their cheering group with a happy, startled oof, and Robin squeals, “You were so good!!” and amidst the circle of people pressing in to give Eddie a congratulatory group hug, Steve hooks a thumb over his shoulder and lies his fucking ass off.

“They said you need to move your van.” He points to the nearest employee he can pin this on and starts dragging Eddie from the fray, saying, “It’s parked in a fire zone.”

“Oh, no shit? Uh- okay.” Eddie’s breathless and fluttery from the excitement of the show, hands trembling a little as he pats his pockets down to find his key. Steve tugs him by the wrist and leads him out the side door — a dirty, dark brick alley, the walls soot-soaked and dim.

The street lights barely reach down the snow-covered path behind the dumpster, and when Steve’s sure they’re in a secluded enough spot, he slams into Eddie with a full body hug, arms wrapped tight around his middle.

“What the fuck?” Eddie laughs.

“You’re so hot,” Steve mumbles into the fabric of Eddie’s shirt. His face is pressed against his chest, hot and damp from exertion, and he breathes deep; hugs him harder. Splays his palms over his ribs just to feel how they move when he breathes.

Eddie’s arms come around his shoulders, a sly smile in his voice like he’s got Steve all figured out. “There wasn’t shit wrong with my parking job, was there?”

Steve looks up from his hiding spot and shakes his head no.

“Oh, you’re fucking cute,” he smirks. He shuffles them around until Steve’s back hits the wall, and he brings his hands up to either side of Steve’s head. Bracketing him. Caging him in.

Steve licks his lips; loses the rhythm of his breath. The moon’s a crescent overhead, obscured by heavy clouds, and it’s dark and it’s cold and undeniably nighttime, but Eddie’s eyes are shining — the first rays of dawn through the edge of the deep woods.

“Is it morning yet?” Steve whispers.

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie says.

He tilts his head and leans in, lips hovering close enough for Steve to taste him, but he doesn’t kiss him yet. “You had something you wanted to ask me?”

“Eddie, please,” Steve breathes in the dwindling space between their mouths.

Eddie presses in harder; sets their hips flush, cocks brushing through their jeans. “Please what, sweet thing?”

“Please kiss me.”

Eddie groans and devours him, the brick rough against Steve’s back as Eddie licks over his mouth. Steve whimpers and lets him in, lets their tongue meet in the middle, and it’s hot and rough and perfect; breaths fogging up between them, kisses wet and messy and deep. Their bodies smash together like two colliding stars, heat and destruction and pressure and—

“Let me- let me-” Steve pants, pushing back against Eddie’s hold. Eddie stays close, gives him just enough space to adjust where his clothes are riding up and his skin is scraping against the brick, and then he sways back in, hips lining up, cocks hard between them. They moan at the same time, and Eddie kisses him deep, kisses him wet, hard enough that Steve’s teeth carve indents into the inside of his lips.

When he finally pulls back, he takes Steve’s bottom lip with him; lets it go with a soft pop, and Steve’s blood burns inside him. Begs to be let out, to boil with filthy friction, to birth a new universe.

“Fuck me,” he pleads softly, leaning in for another kiss. Greedy for more: for Eddie’s tongue down his throat, for his hand down his briefs, everything wet and warm and wanting.

Eddie moves just out of reach; cat and mouse and he’s the cat. “Yeah?” he teases, moving his mouth to Steve’s good ear. “You sure, baby? Right here? Right now?”

His hand slides between Steve’s legs, cupping him through tight denim, toying with the zipper. “You want me to take these off? Fuck you right here in the alley where anyone could see?”

“Oh, fuck.” Steve’s head knocks against the wall, his throat convulsing as desire floods him, because he wants he wants he wants. Wants to make commotion; wants to cause a scene where anyone could see. Where Nancy could see.

“Yeah,” he pants, writhing against Eddie’s hand. “Want it. Want whatever you’ll give me.”

Eddie surges forward again; kisses him like he couldn’t wait anymore — licking hot into his mouth and behind his teeth, choking him on his tongue — and Steve bucks up into it and moans into his mouth. He doesn’t need oxygen. He doesn’t need anything but this, right here, for the rest of his life until his fucking lungs give out.

The door to the alley creaks open just a crack.

They both turn to look, wide-eyed and panicked as they pull apart, and when the door shuts again without anyone stepping through it, they look back at each other and burst out into laughter. High, hysterical peels of it; giddy and nervous at having almost gotten caught.

“Shit,” Eddie snickers into the crook of Steve’s neck. “That was- that was—”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, breathless as he rests his hands loosely on Eddie’s lower back, willing himself to calm down before he gets himself in trouble. “Think the idea of getting caught is way hotter than the reality.”

“Goddamn was the idea hot, though,” Eddie says. “Jesus.”

He adjusts himself in his jeans and moves to Steve’s side, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “Can’t believe you let me rough you up behind a dumpster.” He’s smirking, but there’s a twinge of concern beneath it, a tightness around his eyes as he brings a hand up to Steve’s jaw. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steve smiles. “I’m great, actually.”

Means it, is the crazy thing, despite the cold and the scratches on the tender skin of his back.

He gives Eddie a reassuring nudge. “Sorry I took six days to ask you to kiss me.”

“Thank you,” Eddie huffs. “I was going fucking crazy over here.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he admits. His pretty cheeks go pink. “Pretty sure I drove Jeff nuts all break. But hey, at least now I can tell him Operation Woo Your Man was a success.”

Oh, my god. “Robin told you about that?”

“…Yeah?” Eddie gives him a cute, confused look. “I mean, it was her idea. Wait, did she tell you about it?”

“Uh.”

“Aw, son of a bitch!” Eddie kicks a crushed can down the alley. “Damn it, Buckley, the song was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Hold on; hold on.” Steve pushes off the wall, has to pace a bit, because, “Operation Woo Your Man was my thing. I’m supposed to be wooing you.”

“Oh, baby, I’m wooed,” Eddie licks his teeth, and Steve would find it charming except-

“No. Dude.” Oh, that conniving little— “I think she played us. Like- like I think she called both of us to—”

“Oh, holy shit,” Eddie barks a laugh, hopping in a tight circle and clapping his hands as he catches on to what Steve’s saying. “Wow. You think she’d want to join a Hellfire campaign some time? That’s goddamn diabolical.”

He’s smiling so big, and his teeth are chattering a bit from the cold, and Steve drags him in by a belt loop; wraps him up in a warm hug. “I’m sure I could get her to,” he says softly. “She owes me one for this.”

“Oh, yeah?” They’re about to kiss again.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, dinguses!!!” the diabolical woman herself shouts down the alley as she throws open the side door with a heavy, metallic clang. “It does not take this long to move a vehicle! How much longer do I have to guard this door?”

Steve hollers “fuck off, Robbie” at the same time that Eddie answers “five to seven business days!” and they fall against each other laughing, Eddie’s shoulders shaking as he giggles into Steve’s chest.

“Seriously!” Robin hisses, risking a peek around the edge of the dumpster. “Wrap it up, you two; I’m cold.”

Steve gives Eddie one last peck and leads them back inside.

—

part 37

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