malikaihii
malikaihii
Malikai’s gaybies
52 posts
Malikai :P | he/they | requests: open! 17 :P malikaiedits on tiktok! requests: open
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malikaihii · 24 days ago
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Stop help me 🙏😭
This is the last of the flour left and we have no flour. Please help me and my sisters 😭😭
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malikaihii · 24 days ago
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Please take a few minutes to watch the video and read this post.
I am writing these words after losing hope in everyone… except for you, my friends. Tumblr has a very large number of users, estimated in the millions . That’s an enormous number! But imagine, with all those of people, how would you feel if people saw you and ignored you? You’d feel deeply disappointed, right? Or maybe you’d even wish for death.
Have you ever wished for death? For me, I feel like I’d rather die than be ignored by everyone. If I wasn’t in desperate need of help, I wouldn’t ask anyone for it. I really need help.
Imagine for a moment that you have a small child you love dearly, and you’re forced to watch her suffer in front of your eyes. This isn’t just an imagination for me; it’s my reality. My family and I live this pain every day.
Please, be our hope. Be our voice. Be the ones who save us from despair. Don’t ignore us. Donate, even if it’s just $5 .
There are so many people reading this post right now. I beg anyone who sees these words to donate if they can, and if not, to share this post. Please, don’t leave us behind.
Be our family, or think of us as members of your own family, and save us from this suffering. No matter how small the amount, your help means the world to us. And if you can’t donate, share this post and add a few kind words to inspire others to help.
Thank you so much, everyone. I wish you all the best.
✅vetted by The ButterflyEffect Projects #764 on verified campaigns list) previously shared by 90-ghost ✅
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malikaihii · 24 days ago
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🇵🇸🙏 don't scroll ‼️
Hello dear people
I am Nabila from Gaza,, I am 64 years old ,,
speaking to you with a heavy and painful heart. I am sorry that I had to ask for help from you, but what we are living is what pushed me to do this. I was living a beautiful, quiet life, enjoying the time I spend with my grandchildren and seven daughters.
Imagine waking up to find that your world has changed in a moment, and you have lost your security and peace, and your home has been destroyed, and you have become homeless and living in conditions that no human being can bear. I suffer from chronic diseases, high blood pressure and diabetes. My medication has run out for some time and I am facing difficulty in obtaining it in light of the lack of treatment in hospitals and health centers. Most of the time I cannot feel my limbs, but I am trying to resist. I do not want to die in such circumstances. I still have hope that this war will end and we will rebuild our beautiful and beloved country again and live in safety. I believe in divine power and justice and that all this pain will go away.
I am trying to endure these difficult conditions that I live in inside a small tent and a bathroom a few meters away from my tent and you know the conditions of diabetics in this case but once again there is still hope. I used to live at the expense of my daughters but with all sadness and regret they have all lost their homes and places of work and they have no source of income left and their situation is like that of any Gazan who is still inside Gaza struggling with death, hunger, diseases and extreme heat each one struggling to feed his children I cannot ask them for help so I have resorted to you and I am fully confident in your humanity to help me so that I can provide food and treatment and provide a better tent than the one I live in because it is torn and the place is full of insects. If I can provide treatment, I want to continue my life and see my grandchildren grow up around me. I don’t want to go now. I know that I don’t have as much life left as I have, but I have the right to live and enjoy this. Please don’t hesitate to help your mother who has come to you with a heavy and sad heart. Every dollar will make a difference in my life. Don’t leave me to live this pain. I appreciate what you are doing for every Palestinian inside and outside Gaza. I pray to God that you don’t go through what we are going through, my beloved.
Medical visits and insulin: $5000
Travel and transportation to hospital, coordination with Egypt's border: $5000
My campaing vetted by
@90-ghost
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malikaihii · 24 days ago
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‼️‼️We will die at any moment‼️‼️
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The war has returned after 15 months of death and genocide. We have never rested. We are losing people every day, most of them children and women... The bombing is everywhere. Our children are afraid...The sound is frightening.😭
There is no food, no drink, no medicine, the crossing is closed and everything is expensive.
‼️We don't want to die. Please donate and help us so we can buy food and medicine for my mother and save ourselves from death. Just donate. 😭🙏😞🫂‼️
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malikaihii · 24 days ago
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Hello my friend, please help. We do not have money to buy food and drink. I have young children who do not know the taste of sleep because of the bitter cold caused by the rain. We do not have shelter. Our services are torn. Donate to me, even if it is a little. I ask you to help, my friend 🙏🙏😭 ✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #380 )✅️💔
please share or donate if you are able 🙏
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malikaihii · 24 days ago
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What Strength Really Means 💪
✅️ Vetted by @gazavetters {537} ✅️
Hey everyone, my name is Abdelmajed. I don’t usually talk much about myself, but today, I want to share a little piece of my story.
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I was born and raised in Gaza, a place that has always been my home 🏡. I grew up surrounded by my family, my friends, and the streets that I knew like the back of my hand. Life wasn’t always easy, but we had love, laughter, and dreams. I used to think that no matter what happened, home would always be here. But life has a way of changing things in ways we never expect.
Over the past months, everything I once knew has disappeared. The streets that were once filled with children playing are now silent. The houses that held so many memories are now just rubble. And the people I loved—some of them are gone forever. 💔
✅️ Vetted by @gazavetters {537} ✅️
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malikaihii · 24 days ago
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Dont skip 🔴
I am Falestine, Jad Al-Haq, I am 37 years old, married, and I have a eight-month-old child named Youssef. I gave birth to him during the war during very harsh conditions that no human being can bear. I moved from the hospital immediately after giving birth to the tent in which we were staying after we were displaced to it after the Israeli bulldozers completely bulldozed my house. and my suffering did not start from here. Rather, it began since the beginning of the war, and I am still suffering. I cannot provide enough milk for my baby or diapers. Even medicines and vitamins are not available.
I ask you for your urgent help in disseminating the link to my family and communicating it to people interested and able to help us.  I didn't want to do it, but the tragic situation we are living in is what pushed me to do it.  I feel sad and helpless, after we had everything, we are now homeless on the streets, living in a tent next to a dilapidated public toilet and there is sewage, dirt and waste everywhere, we sleep on it!  We suffer from terrible heat, insects, scorpions, the danger of death, bombs and missiles, in addition to hunger of course, the danger of pollution and terrible diseases, especially the digestive, respiratory and reproductive systems!
.  My father and mother could not bear it any longer. My father had a stroke after losing his home and his place of work, and my mother suffers from chronic diseases and needs treatment.
  Do you have the right to imagine that when you spend your life building for yourself and your children to live a decent life, all of this disappears in the blink of an eye, and now when you reach the age where you should rest, you are forced to start again!!?  But the most important thing now is to try to survive and protect your children from all the factors of death that surround us!  I ask everyone who has humanity or conscience to feel our situation and put themselves in our place.  How can someone who has lived with dignity all his life accept this?  We are slowly dying every day.
Your donation, no matter how small, can have a big impact.  It can provide a meal for my little one, a clean bottle of water, or a moment of safety under these difficult circumstances.  Every donation brings with it a ray of hope, alleviating our suffering and giving us the strength to face a new day.
I ask you to donate and support the steadfastness of the Gazan people, and share this campaign with your friends and families.  Together, we can make a difference and help my family get through this ordeal.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity and support.
Warm greetings,
Falestine
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malikaihii · 24 days ago
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This is my daughter Noor. She was injured as a result of the continuous bombing. The horror we are living through is indescribable. Bombing, destruction, and extreme danger surround us everywhere. Help us get out of Gaza And live in peace. Interact with the post, donate, share, and like.
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✅️vetted by @/bilal-salah0, @/90-ghost, & @/el-shab-hussein✅️
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malikaihii · 24 days ago
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My dear friend, I ask for help from your humility. I am Sumaya from northern Gaza. My husband and I were displaced more than 5 times, and now my husband and I live in a worn-out tent 💔😓 and I lost my newborn because the tent is not fit for life 💔💔 Please help me by donating, sharing
and reblogging 🙏🏻🙏🏻💔
https://gofund.me/1c7df49e
please donate if you can!! I wish the best for you and your husband, i’m very sorry you have to go through this :((
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malikaihii · 25 days ago
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Please Please help if you can, at the very least share the post!! <3
🌍✨ A Voice from Gaza: Fighting for Hope ❤️‍🩹
Hi, my name is Mosab , and I’m from Gaza. Life here has been harder than I could ever imagine, but today I’m sharing my story with hope in my heart, because your kindness has already given us so much strength.
This journey hasn’t been easy. The war has taken 25 family members from us—25 beautiful souls we loved deeply. Their laughter, their presence, their love… all of it is gone, leaving behind memories that are both precious and painful. Every day, I carry the weight of their loss, but I also carry their spirit, which gives me the strength to keep going.
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Our Journey So Far
When I first reached out, I couldn’t have imagined we’d make it this far. Your support has been a light in these difficult times, and we are so deeply grateful for every single contribution.
But the road ahead is still challenging. Every day, we’re reminded of how much we’ve lost and how much we still need to rebuild.
Here’s what life in Gaza looks like for my family right now:
🏠 Safety: The uncertainty of tomorrow weighs heavily on us.
😢 Loss: The absence of the 25 family members we’ve lost is a pain we carry every moment.
💔 Dreams on Hold: The future feels so far away when survival takes all our strength.
How You Can Help Us Cross the Finish Line Even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference:
$5 may seem small, but for us, it’s a little relief, a moment of comfort, and a reminder that kindness still exists. ❤️
Can’t donate? Reblog this post to help us reach someone who can. Every share matters more than you know.
✅️ Vetted by @gazavetters ( #309 ) ✅️
Why Your Support Matters Your kindness isn’t just about helping us meet our goal—it’s about reminding us that we’re not alone in this fight. It’s about hope. It’s about survival. And it’s about giving my family a chance to rebuild our lives, even in the face of unimaginable loss.
Thank you for helping us get this far. Your generosity and compassion have already brought us closer to a better tomorrow, and for that, I’m endlessly grateful.
With all my love and gratitude,
Mosab and Family ❤️
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malikaihii · 25 days ago
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Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍
I hope you're doing well. 🌿
Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻
💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.
Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿
🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫
will do! i hope you reach your goal <3
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malikaihii · 29 days ago
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heartstrings
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malikaihii · 1 month ago
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random drawings as a beginner:p (i’m bad at anatomy so bare with me)
trans-man chigiri my beloved (i just love headcanoning characters as trans it’s comforting)
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Dionysus with apollo & hyacinth (again i’m so bad at side profiles and anatomy but i thought this was funny)
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Hinata Shoyou as Spiderman! (really like this one i used refrences heavily for the body, though i didn’t trace or anything)
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Kyoka Jirou! the queen ‼️
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malikaihii · 1 month ago
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tell my mom we're in love | h. sero
fake dating wasn't on your holiday to-do list—until sero invited you home for tamales and chaos (3525 words)
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you regretted this the moment you stepped out of the dormitory and into the sharp chill of mid-december air, a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder and your dignity already teetering on the edge. trailing beside you was hanta sero, practically vibrating with the smug energy of a man who had just talked his best friend into making the worst decision of her academic career.
and technically, he had.
somewhere between his mother's increasingly invasive matchmaking attempts and his inability to say the word "no" like a normal person, he'd decided the solution was to invent a girlfriend. and of course, of course, he'd chosen you.
"come on," he said now, as a cab idled at the curb, white exhaust curling into the crisp air like smoke from a slow-burning disaster. "tell me this won't be fun. just a little bit."
"i think i'm too emotionally aware to find this fun," you muttered, hoisting your bag into the trunk as he leaned beside you with his usual careless grace.
sero grinned—that unbothered, insufferably pretty grin that always made it harder to stay annoyed with him for long. "emotionally aware, huh? sounds like you're already getting into character."
you leveled him with a look. "if i'm your girlfriend, you're going to need to stop flirting like a golden retriever with a god complex."
"babe," he said, slipping into the backseat beside you with the kind of unearned confidence that should have come with a warning label, "flirting is literally how i survive in social settings. don't take this from me."
you stared out the window, hoping the freezing glass would cool the creeping warmth crawling up your neck. "we're not actually dating, hanta."
"right," he said, and he sounded amused, not wounded. "but we could be really good at it."
you didn't answer. he didn't press.
the cab pulled away from the dorms, and for a moment the silence between you was companionable, like it always had been. you'd known sero for years now—long enough to understand that his laid-back demeanor was as real as it was performative. he was the kind of person who made a room feel lighter just by being in it, but who also knew the weight of silence better than most people ever would.
he didn't make you feel like you had to be anyone but yourself. and that, unfortunately, was the root of the problem.
somewhere along the road from "we're just friends" to "please pretend to be my girlfriend so my mom stops trying to marry me off," things had started to shift.
not all at once. not obviously.
but they shifted.
now he was dozing beside you, his head tilted toward your shoulder, and every bump in the road made him inch closer. you should have nudged him off. you should have drawn the line.
but you didn't.
instead, you studied the soft lines of his face—the relaxed set of his mouth, the faint crease between his brows like his dreams were just a little too fast for his thoughts to catch—and you wondered what the hell you'd gotten yourself into.
by the time the cab slowed, the sun had dipped low, casting golden light over a neighborhood that looked far too idyllic to be real. sero's house was two stories of warmth and welcome: string lights curled along the porch railing, a wreath hung slightly crooked on the front door, and smoke drifted lazily from a chimney that promised something warm inside.
standing at the threshold was a woman with sharp eyes, a kind smile, and the unmistakable aura of someone who could both bake you cookies and emotionally destroy you in the same breath.
sero's mother.
you froze.
he didn't.
without hesitation, sero leaned in, brushing your hair behind your ear like it was the most natural thing in the world. his voice dipped just low enough for only you to hear. "smile like you love me."
then he reached for your hand.
his fingers, long and warm, laced effortlessly through yours.
you didn't pull away.
and that was the moment—standing at the edge of his childhood, your fingers locked in his, heart skipping in the kind of rhythm you weren't prepared for—that you realized you were in far more danger than you thought.
because part of you didn't want to let go.
the cab hadn't even rolled to a full stop before sero's mom was standing in front of it, arms crossed, eyes already locked onto her target like a seasoned general. you had seen pictures, sure—sero had shown you a few over lunch one day, swiping through images of his mom with an almost reverent fondness—but none of them did her justice.
she was radiant. that was the first word that came to mind. not in some soft, dreamy way, but in the sharp, unmistakable warmth of someone who had mastered the art of existing unapologetically. she had a scarf looped carelessly around her neck, dark hair pinned up with wisps escaping, and that immediate, unnerving energy unique to mothers who know everything before you say a word.
"hanta," she said brightly as you approached. "you took forever, mijo. i was about to call."
and then her eyes slid to you.
her whole face changed.
"qué linda," she said, stepping down toward you without hesitation. "you're even prettier than the pictures."
you opened your mouth to answer—say something polite, maybe even charming—but instead you were pulled into a hug so warm and familiar you forgot how to speak altogether.
she smelled like cinnamon and butter, like café and home. her arms wrapped around you without hesitation, solid and reassuring, and you blinked twice before realizing she wasn't letting go just yet.
she pulled back, hands on your shoulders, eyes scanning your face with curiosity. "how old are you, mija?"
"seventeen," you managed. "ua student. same class as hanta."
"top twenty," sero chimed from behind you, proud and useless.
his mom smiled wider. "good. you'll need that to keep up with him. he talks too much."
"i'm right here," sero said, offended.
"and what's your quirk, sweetheart?" she asked, guiding you inside like she owned every molecule of the house—which she probably did.
"just a luck quirk," you replied. "it's not anything big or flashy."
"flashy's overrated," she said. "flashy gets you on magazine covers, but smart keeps you alive. hanta could use some of that balance."
sero made a wounded noise. "i'm right here."
you stepped into the house and tried not to gape. it was warm and lived-in, with mismatched furniture and soft lights, and framed photos in every direction. you passed at least three different versions of baby sero—one with cake on his face, one dressed as a shark, and one in a tiny suit looking like he'd lost a bet.
you were immediately ushered to the couch, where sero flopped down beside you like he'd done this a thousand times. his arm stretched along the back of the cushions behind you, easy and casual, but you felt the heat of it like a brand against your neck.
his mom sat in the armchair across from you, one leg crossed, hands folded, expression deceptively pleasant.
"so," she said. "how long have you two been together?"
"six months," you and sero answered in unison.
your eyes met. you both smiled.
it was practiced, but god—it didn't feel like a lie.
"how'd you meet?" she asked next.
sero leaned forward like he was telling a secret. "training. she beat up kaminari. i've never recovered."
you tried not to laugh. "he followed me around for a week."
"i was courting you."
"you were loitering near vending machines."
"i was being persistent," he corrected. "it worked, didn't it?"
his mom watched you both, eyes narrowed just enough to make you sweat.
"and what do you like about my son?" she asked you, suddenly.
your mouth went dry.
sero glanced sideways, surprised.
but the answer came easy.
"he's reliable. and funny. and he listens—really listens. like you're the only person in the room."
you could feel sero's eyes on you, and the room felt warmer than it had a second ago.
"he's easy to be around," you said, a little softer now. "i feel like i can breathe near him."
a long silence stretched across the room.
then sero bumped your shoulder with his own, voice low. "you're not supposed to make me blush in front of my mom."
his mom smiled, pleased. "i like you."
you smiled back, because how could you not. "thank you."
"i made tamales," she said, rising to her feet. "sit tight. i'll get you a plate."
"do you need help—?" you started, half-standing.
"no, no. you're a guest. you sit and let yourself be adored."
she vanished into the kitchen with surprising speed.
the moment she was out of earshot, you collapsed sideways onto the couch.
"i blacked out," you whispered. "what did i even say?"
"that i'm amazing and you love being around me," sero said smugly.
you shot him a look.
he leaned a little closer, voice dropping. "also, you were adorable. you didn't have to go that hard. i almost forgot it was fake."
you didn't answer.
⊹ ࣪ ˖
dinner came after a comfortable lull in the afternoon—just enough time for you to grow used to the house's warmth, the quiet hum of kitchen sounds, and the sound of sero humming to himself as he helped his mom plate tamales. there was something undeniably domestic about it—watching him lean over the counter, sleeves pushed up, swiping a bit of masa from the corner of a dish with a grin when he thought no one was watching.
you caught yourself watching.
a little too long.
and when he turned around and caught your eye, offering you a wink that made your stomach stutter—you looked away, pretending to study the wall like it had secrets.
the house filled slowly with more noise, more feet, more voices. by the time dinner was ready, the table was surrounded by people—his siblings, all younger, all chaos incarnate. there were five in total, ranging from what looked like barely ten to maybe sixteen. all of them clearly adored sero, and all of them clearly had a thousand questions about you.
"are you really his girlfriend?" one of the younger girls asked, blinking up at you from her seat at the far end of the table.
sero, already sitting beside you, reached for your hand under the table without hesitation. "of course she is," he said easily. "she puts up with me. that's gotta mean something."
you glanced sideways, surprised by the way his thumb started tracing circles into your palm. his fingers were warm, his grip relaxed, like this was a habit and not a performance. your first instinct was to pull away—but you didn't. you let him hold on.
"do you like him?" one of the boys asked bluntly, somewhere between a dare and a test.
you looked over at sero, who was already looking at you.
and the smile that spread across his face wasn't teasing. it wasn't even smug.
it was soft.
"i do," you said honestly. "he's easy to like."
one of his sisters actually swooned.
their mother returned from the kitchen, a stack of warm plates balanced in her arms. "aye, look at you two," she said fondly, setting down the food. "you look like you've been married five years already."
sero snorted. "that's because she already tells me what to do."
"someone has to," you said, nudging his leg under the table.
his knee pressed into yours and didn't move.
the meal began in full, voices rising over each other, stories flying back and forth like birds across the table. tamales were unwrapped, passed down, devoured. rice and beans steamed in bowls at the center. someone spilled horchata and got teased for it for fifteen minutes straight.
sero kept his hand under the table the entire time.
sometimes on your knee. sometimes brushing your fingers. once, briefly, resting on your thigh with a touch so casual and confident you forgot how to breathe for a second.
"so how did you know?" his mom asked halfway through the meal, raising an eyebrow. "that you liked each other, i mean."
you blinked. "um."
sero didn't miss a beat.
"she made this face at me once," he said, totally serious. "during training. right after i got my ass handed to me. and i thought—yeah. i'd let her ruin my life."
you choked on a sip of water. "that's not what happened."
"you raised your eyebrow," he insisted, "like i was both impressive and pathetic. it was very motivating."
"you were bleeding."
"romance is about timing."
the table erupted in laughter.
"you're ridiculous," you muttered, but there was no bite to it. you felt lightheaded from smiling too much.
his younger sister leaned over the table toward you. "you make him less annoying," she said seriously. "he's, like, way less weird with you here."
"he's still weird," someone else muttered.
"hey," sero said, deeply offended. "i'm the glue of this household."
"you're the glitter glue," one of the boys shot back. "unnecessary and all over everything."
the conversation swirled, but it was warm. easy. you felt like you'd slipped into a rhythm you hadn't known you were missing. sero's family didn't make you feel like an outsider. if anything, they treated you like a permanent fixture—like they already liked you, just because he did.
and sero—he kept looking at you.
in the quiet moments between bites. when you laughed at something his brother said. when you wiped your fingers on your napkin and he passed you your drink like he'd already anticipated you'd reach for it.
"you're really good at this," you whispered during a lull, leaning in.
"at what?" he asked, voice low, chin tilted toward you.
"this," you said. "pretending."
his eyes flicked down to your mouth, just for a second.
"what can i say," he said quietly. "i'm something of an actor."
you snickered.
and then his mom called your name from across the table.
"you like dessert, mija?" she asked, already bringing out the plates.
you blinked twice before answering, forcing a smile. "of course. thank you."
sero didn't look away from you for a long time.
dinner had long ended. the noise had faded. sero's house, once pulsing with overlapping voices and clattering plates, now thrummed with a different kind of energy—low, contented, quiet.
his siblings had scattered, full-bellied and sugar-sticky, off to bedrooms and couches and wherever else they disappeared to in the evening. someone had turned on a dusty old playlist in the den, and the soft hum of vintage boleros curled through the walls like warmth that refused to die.
you stood in the hallway between the dining room and the back door, hovering in the in-between of things: of conversations and thoughts, of what was real and what had only started out that way.
you weren't sure what to do with your hands.
or your heart.
sero appeared beside you like he always did—quiet-footed and comfortably close, smelling faintly of soap and masa and something sweet from dessert you hadn't caught the name of. his sleeves were still pushed up, revealing his forearms, and you hated that you were looking at them. not because they weren't worth looking at—they were—but because it meant your guard was down. again.
"come on," he said softly. "balcony?"
you didn't answer. you just nodded and followed.
the air outside was sharp and clean. the kind of cold that wakes you up without being cruel. you wrapped your arms around yourself more out of instinct than discomfort. the balcony was small, with a windchime shaped like a lizard hanging from the overhang, and a view of soft suburban rooftops and yellow windows scattered like lanterns across the horizon.
you leaned against the wooden railing. he did the same.
neither of you spoke.
you were too full of the evening. of tamales and laughter. of too much touch under the table. of words you'd said with a smile that weren't lies—but weren't supposed to be true either.
the problem wasn't pretending.
the problem was that pretending didn't feel like pretending anymore.
you didn't know when it had changed. maybe it was gradual—each time he laced his fingers through yours without asking, or rested his hand on your thigh mid-story, or offered you a grin across the table that was so familiar, so soft, you forgot why you were here in the first place.
but it hit you now, standing beside him in the chill—this unshakable, irreversible knowledge:
you were in love with him.
god, you were in love with hanta sero.
not just in a surface-level, crush-colored way. not just in the i-like-how-he-makes-me-laugh way. it was deeper than that. older. something that had snuck in when you weren't looking and taken root so quietly you hadn't noticed until it was everywhere.
you were in love with the way he held space. with the way he listened without trying to fix you. with the way he let the world land on him lightly, and still carried it in both hands when it mattered.
you were in love with someone who didn't even know you weren't faking anymore.
you exhaled.
"you're quiet," he said, not looking at you. "regretting it already?"
you shook your head. "no. it's just... weird how easy it was. with your family."
he hummed. "they like you."
"they liked that i made you less annoying."
"that is the highest compliment in my house."
you smiled, faint. "they're sweet. loud, but sweet."
"you kept up fine."
"i think i blacked out for half of it."
"you were golden," he said, softer now. "you always are."
you turned toward him slowly.
the lights from the kitchen spilled faintly through the curtains behind you, catching just enough of his face for you to see how relaxed he looked. how present. how close.
you swallowed.
"hanta?"
he looked over at you, brows raised. "yeah?"
there was a beat of silence.
"i don't know how to lie to you," you said.
he blinked once.
then again, slower.
"what?"
"i mean," you continued, hands curling around the edge of the railing. "i've been trying. all day. and i thought i could. i thought i could pull it off—play the part, pretend—but then we got here, and your mom hugged me, and you touched my hand under the table, and i just... i don't know when it stopped being a bit."
his eyes searched your face like he was looking for something he'd already lost.
"hanta," you said again. "i'm in love with you."
his face froze.
the air between you seemed to still. the windchime didn't move. the whole world narrowed into this one pinpoint moment, bright and fragile and terrifying.
he stepped back—just barely.
"you don't have to keep pretending," he said. carefully. cautiously. "no one's watching anymore. you can drop it."
you stared at him.
"i'm not pretending," you said.
another beat. a sharp exhale.
his lips parted slightly. his brows furrowed, not in confusion, but in disbelief. in the kind of fear that came from wanting something too much and being afraid to reach for it.
"you're serious."
"i've never been more serious about anything in my life."
sero let out a long, shaky laugh. it cracked halfway through.
"say it again," he whispered.
"i'm in love with you."
and this time, you reached for him.
your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, and you felt the moment he melted—slow and overwhelmed, the way something melts that's been cold for too long.
"you've got to be kidding me," he muttered, leaning into your touch. "i thought—god, i thought i was the only one losing my mind over this."
you smiled, eyes stinging.
"you weren't."
"i've been in love with you since second year," he admitted, voice breaking a little. "you kissed my cheek that one time after i carried your books back from the nurse's office, and i nearly died. like, actual cardiac arrest."
"that was a year ago."
"welcome to my long, slow descent into insanity."
you laughed, quiet and ridiculous.
and then he kissed you.
it wasn't rushed. wasn't showy. it wasn't a fireworks-and-credits-roll kiss.
it was the kind that happened in doorways, in hallways, in quiet rooms where hearts beat too loud. the kind that changed nothing and everything all at once.
he kissed you like he meant it.
you kissed him like you'd been waiting your whole life to.
when you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours.
"you're real?" you whispered, breath catching.
"i better be," he said. "otherwise you've just confessed to a figment of your imagination."
you swallowed a grin.
his thumb traced your cheek.
"i thought this would end in disaster," he said quietly. "that pretending would ruin everything."
"and?"
"and now i don't want it to end at all."
you leaned in, bumping your nose against his.
"then it doesn't have to."
he smiled, and kissed you again.
not like he was pretending.
like he was home.
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malikaihii · 1 month ago
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this is me asking for requests btw pls and thank you :DD
hey guys! i’d like to start off with saying happy trans visibility day (i know im late im sorry 😭😭) and i’m so proud of all trans people out there (including me yippee!!) <33
now i don’t think im gonna do smaus anymore cause the app i had was frustrating and im low on storage 😭 but please feel free to send one shot/drabble requests!!
i write for:
cowboy bebop - Spike Spiegel (there’s just the most info on him and i love him)
MHA - most characters (all characters that are teens in the show are written in the time skip)
HQ - most characters (any under 18 character will be written in the time skip)
JJK - most characters except for mahito or manga only characters as i’ve only read mangas 1-4 :P (again minor character would be written in a time skipped manor)
All stories will be gender neutral (unless specified but in that case it would only be in the case of like “telling ___ you’re trans” other than that it will be gender neutral because, as a trans man, there’s so many female readers stories and i want more non gender specific stories)
no nsfw :p
please understand if i don’t respond to your ask or it takes a while my motivation and energy is very “come and go” and sometimes it takes a while for inspiration!
Final note, be mindful that this is all for fun so if you don’t like a story or if there’s grammar errors please just ignore them!!
thank you :))
OH AND THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS :DDD
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malikaihii · 1 month ago
Text
hey guys! i’d like to start off with saying happy trans visibility day (i know im late im sorry 😭😭) and i’m so proud of all trans people out there (including me yippee!!) <33
now i don’t think im gonna do smaus anymore cause the app i had was frustrating and im low on storage 😭 but please feel free to send one shot/drabble requests!!
i write for:
cowboy bebop - Spike Spiegel (there’s just the most info on him and i love him)
MHA - most characters (all characters that are teens in the show are written in the time skip)
HQ - most characters (any under 18 character will be written in the time skip)
JJK - most characters except for mahito or manga only characters as i’ve only read mangas 1-4 :P (again minor character would be written in a time skipped manor)
All stories will be gender neutral (unless specified but in that case it would only be in the case of like “telling ___ you’re trans” other than that it will be gender neutral because, as a trans man, there’s so many female readers stories and i want more non gender specific stories)
no nsfw :p
please understand if i don’t respond to your ask or it takes a while my motivation and energy is very “come and go” and sometimes it takes a while for inspiration!
Final note, be mindful that this is all for fun so if you don’t like a story or if there’s grammar errors please just ignore them!!
thank you :))
OH AND THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS :DDD
7 notes · View notes
malikaihii · 1 month ago
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Some modern au for fem dabihawks weekend over on Twitter 🙏
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