#Electric Food Dehydrator

[mohameedibraheem]

Save one life, save the whole world

My name is Muhammad Ibrahim. I work as a high school teacher. I am a strong father from Gaza. I have three princesses from my children. I mentioned that I am strong because I try to provide happiness and protection for my family in the midst of sadness and death, and I am looking to shed light in the darkness. I am strong. I do not want to show weakness to my children, but to be honest I have no idea how strong I can pretend to be. I'm not strong. I'm sad, broken, devastated, and terrified at the thought of losing someone in my family.

Since the first hour of October, we have been displaced 6 times. It is a terrifying thing. When you see the planes dropping leaflets on us asking us to evacuate the area, you are asked to evacuate within a specific time. At this time, you are unable to think about what you want to do, and where we will go. While preparing the necessary bags, shells and missiles are raining down on us. Bullets from airplanes. At this moment, you can only escape and save your life and the lives of your children

After more than 300 days of resisting the heinous genocide, my family and I are working to support ourselves through community relief and mutual assistance efforts that stopped three months ago due to the occupation taking control and occupying the city of Rafah.

With the constant risk of death due to malnutrition, dehydration and pollution, diseases are increasing day by day. Like all residents of Gaza, we depend on donations to purchase the goods and services necessary to keep us alive, heal and recover.

One dollar could make a difference in my life. Your skip could cost us a life

Let me tell you about living in the camp, it is like a prison, and even worse, there is no fresh air to breathe, no clean water for daily use and of course to drink, no electricity and no healthy food, only infectious diseases, skin rashes, insects and scorpions.

There is no privacy as the tents are close together, and no quiet, only shelters between you and your neighbors. I stand in long lines under the hot sun for water, for bread, for hospice (food distributed to the displaced in the camp) and even for bathrooms. Public.

More than 300 days of targeted attacks and genocidal tactics have deliberately destroyed life's infrastructure: energy sources, desalination plants, bakeries, factories, hospitals, schools, sewage systems, roads, farmland, homes, my home, and my workplace. Everything has already become a terrifying ghost town

The Gaza Strip has become an uninhabitable biological zone, due to tens of thousands of decaying martyrs who are still crushed under the rubble. The beach is full of sewage and pollution, the health care system has been destroyed, and facilities and agricultural lands have been bombed. We are in a miserable situation, with the outbreak of hepatitis. Polio and other diseases, famine, pollution and constant bombing

My three children, my wife, my mother, and my father need care, and because I am the only person in the family who goes to get water and food, which is considered a huge burden on me, especially since there is no safe place there. I have always been exposed to the risk of death due to sudden bombing and miraculously survived. Therefore, my family and I want to leave Gaza. So that I can protect my children and save our lives, as they need to study, health care, and start a decent life. They have the right to live like all the children of this world, so I want your help in donating so that I can help my family. Since each person needs $5,000 to go out, I need a large amount to be able to travel, so I hope to reach the amount as quickly as possible so that I can get the children back to playing as they used to while studying

[sayruq]

Amid Israel’s ongoing genocidal war on Gaza, maternal healthcare faces excruciating challenges. Deliberate and systematic Israeli attacks on hospitals and medical centers, and critical shortages of humanitarian aid, including medicine, have created a crisis that is endangering the lives of both mothers and newborns. The situation is critical. There are an estimated 50,000 pregnant women in Gaza and some 180 births every day. Israel’s decision in October to prevent food, water, fuel and electricity from entering Gaza created a desperate situation. Inadequate nutrition, exposure to cold and hot weather, the absence of clean water, and poor sanitation weigh heavily on the wellbeing of women and children. The circumstances force them to consume contaminated water, heightening the peril of dehydration and waterborne diseases, particularly among vulnerable groups such as expectant mothers, new mothers and young children. Fuel shortages and the constrained capacity of the few remaining medical facilities exacerbate the difficulty for women in labor to access hospitals. Um Amin, a mother with a few children, confronted with the harsh reality of displacement, recounted her family’s struggles during Israel’s aggression. As bombs relentlessly fell on their neighborhood, reducing their home to rubble, Um Amin had to seek refuge at a school run by the UN agency for Palestine refugees (UNRWA) in the northern Gaza Strip taking only very few belongings. She was pregnant. And in the school there was little by way of basic necessities such as clean water, food or even clothes for her children. She considered moving south, where food might be a little more accessible. Her husband refused, causing conflict between them.He feared not being able to return. And while she believed that the Israeli army was attempting to force them to leave, she also felt it was a matter of life and death for her children. “It was heart-wrenching to witness my kids fighting over scraps of bread. My 4-year-old started stashing away bread in his pocket for later. I was shocked. Before the war, I never slept without knowing my children were fed. Now, most of the time, I am certain they never feel satisfied.” Her entire motivation to carry on became a matter of feeding her children She denied herself food for their sake, but had also to remind herself of the child within her. “The baby inside me is also a priority, so I had to eat too.” She found the balancing act incredibly challenging, an unbearable burden of motherhood. “I am going to share something I’ve never told anyone I know: I contemplated suicide to escape the weight of this responsibility.”

After the Israeli army unexpectedly stormed al-Rimal, a Gaza City neighborhood, for a second time, Um Amin panicked and fled again, this time going from the UNRWA school to a relative’s house. But her fear caused her to enter preterm labor. A doctor, at the nearby al-Sahaba medical center, had to resort to a cesarean section. It was hell, Um Amin said. There was insufficient anesthesia and she could feel the scalpel cutting into her body. There was no electricity; the doctor had to use a handheld flashlight to see. Um Amin’s cries of pain could not drown out the crashing of shells around her. The operation left her utterly drained. She couldn’t believe she was still alive.She needed nourishment to recover what she had lost during the bleeding and to breastfeed her son. But hunger was stalking Gaza. Food was scarce, there was no white flour in the markets, and Israel was blocking aid trucks from entering the north. “All I had to eat was bread made from animal feed and water. When I had my other children, I relied on foods rich in animal proteins, but it was impossible this time. The price of meat was five times higher than normal.” Unable to adequately breastfeed her child, she had to find infant formula. But the price was multiple times higher than it used to be and more than she could afford. Eventually, she was forced to buy formula that was past its expiry date. “You might blame me, but there was literally no other option. I didn’t have enough money. It wasn’t clumped together, so the doctor told me it could still be used.” She would never find out. Due to the lack of clean water, she prepared the milk with non-potable water from a well. The baby refused to drink.

[lucid-loves]

Reader getting kidnapped and tortured for information, when Simon and the team save the reader and take them back to base and Simon helps her recover mentally and physically, Simon swears to protect her at all costs? And they fall in love?! ❤️❤️

Thank you for waiting! 🤍

What a Time To Be Alive

Pairing: Ghost x POW!reader (fem!reader, 141!reader, callsign “Spite”)

Word Count: 13.7k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, angst, violence, scars, blood, wounds, killing, fluff, attraction, one-shot, reader POV and Ghost POV, minors DNI, EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, passionate kisses, fingering, hickeys, mirror sex, passionate sex, gentleness, compliments, praise

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: You were caught by the enemy during a crucial mission. The 141 team had no choice but to leave you, thinking you were dead already. For a year and a half, you were held prisoner and tortured for information. When the 141 finally gets you back, Ghost volunteers to take care of you during your recovery, having felt responsible for your capture. Both of your feelings blossom into something more as you both realize how much you care about one another. 

You were dead. At least, that’s what everyone thought when they watched you get shot in the head. You didn’t blame them for leaving. You would have probably thought the same thing if it was one of them.

No, you were still alive. The metal plate that doctors put in your head after a bad car accident as a teenager saved your life. You were knocked out cold upon bullet impact, but still very much alive. Not that you were doing well, though. 

With a headache and tired eyes, you looked at your cold, stone wall marked with tally marks for the passing days. 547 days were marked, give or take. There were days where you didn’t wake up so you forgot to mark them. You didn’t wake up until some time after you were captured too. Those days weren’t marked.

Your stomach grumbled, making your body’s ache amplify all over. You couldn’t remember the last time your body didn’t hurt. What was once lean military muscle was now skin and bones. You were constantly hungry for food, a combination of you refusing to eat out of spite and being underserved overcooked rice to the point that it was just mush. 

They kept you weak. Underfed and dehydrated. It was probably a good thing they did because otherwise you would rip your warden apart with your bare hands. 

When you first came to after being captured, you had the honor to meet your warden right away. A man that was on the hit list for the 141, Bill Porakov. but made a surprise appearance at the mission. He was the one that lifted his gun just as everyone was boarding the helicopter to go home. 

It was one of the memories you still remembered so vividly. The dirt kicking up from the ground, the blades whipping around the wind, the look back you happened to give by chance before the gun went off. You saw the aim. You traced it back. And before the bullet could hit him, you had pushed Ghost hard. The last sight you saw of them was Ghost falling forward towards the chopper, the rest of the team that was already grabbing his arms to pull him in. 

You saw the brief expressions he gave you when he looked back. At first, he was annoyed, but it didn’t take long for his annoyance to morph into pure horror as the bullet meant for him hit your skull.

When you awoke, you were strapped to a chair. Your head pounded, you were in your underwear, and you were meeting your warden. 

No matter what he did, you never talked. Even when he cut your skin with knives. Even when he dislocated your jaw with a hammer. Even when he took your pinkie finger and a few of your teeth, you never talked. All you did was give a human snarl, angry firecrackers in your eyes.  

It wasn’t until the third month when he realized that nothing was going to make you talk that he switched tactics to solitary confinement. He came by every now and then to try physical torture again. Waterboarding, electric shock. 

It felt like he did it more so for fun than to fish information out of you after a certain point. 

You snapped to attention when you heard whispers down the hall. A few guards were whispering to each other. Trying to ignore the pain of your body, you attempted to eavesdrop. 

“-said to be extra careful today. Maintenance work will have the cameras down for a little bit.”

“Like anything is gonna happen. Her brain is too scrambled to do anything. You know what she did last week?”

“What?”

“She threw her food out. Managed to sling the bowl through the bars and shattered the thing. Then, she just sat in the corner. Didn’t even realize that the food she got was actually good that day. The bitch is paranoid and out of it. One too many things to that thick skull of hers.”

“Damn, really? When do think the warden is gonna let her go now that she’s fucked in the head?”

“Probably never. After that incident was reported, he just shrugged. Said she was still a prize, even starving.”

As the guards approached your cell, you pretended that you were asleep. It wasn’t hard to do since you often found yourself pretending to be asleep to avoid guard confrontation. When you heard the sound of your cell door unlocking and opening, you stirred as if just becoming awake. 

“Dinner. Don’t make me clean your mess like last week.”

You slowly got up and limped towards the silver tray, your porcelain dishware exchanged for silver since last week. 

You threw the food against the wall last week because it looked good. Too good. You did get paranoid and thought it was poisoned. A last meal. You didn’t care if it made you look crazy. In fact, you liked how they thought you went crazy. They would underestimate you, especially now that the time was right for your plan. 

On your tray was the usual mush of rice mixed together with cut deli meat. The smallest amount of protein and carbs that would make the grumbling stop, but your body still weak. 

Slowly, you ate, trying to ignore the fact that you had to eat with your fingers that were covered in sweat and dirt. They only let you take a cold shower once a month. One that only lasted thirty seconds. 

God, you hoped that today really would be the day you could start your plans of escape. 

“Prison Fight in Cell Block D! Personnel in Cell Block E and F report to Cell Block D immediately!” a strong voice announced over the speakers just as one of the guards was relocking your cell. They both sighed, but then hurried out to see what the commotion was. 

Except, they forgot to lock your door properly. You’ve gotten used to all the sounds of the prison like a pattern. The sound of your cell door locking was a familiar that never missed, until today. Waiting a few minutes, you made sure that the guards were gone and busy. If this was going to work, you had to be careful. Play your cards right.

You were lucky that you were Cell Block F’s only prisoner. 

Slowly, you pushed the door to avoid the whining creak it always gave. Slipping through, you could feel your hands shake and your head spin. Jesus, you were in bad shape. This was the most amount of moving you had done in a while. 

Carefully, you headed down the hall toward the front desk of the block. Luck really was on your side today. As you peeked through the door window, you noticed that there was no one manning the desk. All that was left was a radio, a cell phone, a transmitter, a computer, and walkie talkies on chargers. You pushed the door open, the task taking more effort than it should have, and you picked up the phone. 

Dialing the secret number you knew by heart, you prayed that it would go through. It rang several times before you reached a voicemail prompt. You nearly wept when you heard Kate’s voice asking you to leave a message. You missed her.

Your voice cracked as you tried to summon it. It’s been a long time since you’ve used it for talking. Nowadays you’ve only used it for screaming. It was hoarse and broken. It hurt to speak. “Th-This is Spite. 5286. I’ve been a prisoner all this time. I-I don’t know where. I haven’t seen the light of day. . .”

“Please, bring me home. If that can’t happen. . .”

You swallowed hard and thought about your next words carefully. “I will hold out for two weeks. If no one comes for me, then I will take my own life by taking Bill Porakov’s life. I won’t go to the other side empty handed.”

Leaving the message at that, you hung up, erased the call history, and cautiously retreated back to your cell. Crawling into your concrete slab of a bed, you curled up and closed your eyes. You felt your cheeks become wet as you now waited for someone or no one to help you. 

Just before you began to drift off. You heard sounds coming down your hallway again. Heavy footsteps that identified your visitor. The warden. 

You felt his eyes on you, sizing you up in the corner of your cell. When he attempted to unlock the door, he noticed that it was unlocked already. Instead of becoming angry at his employees, he simply began to laugh. The other guards nervously began to join in. “Unlocked door and still a stationary prisoner. Have you lost hope finally? Good. It’ll make taming you a lot easier.”

~

The 141 team was getting out of a meeting. A boring one. One that went over statistics and facts about their own work that nearly put them to sleep. They never really cared about their accomplishments or results from a numbers perspective. Besides that, all the accomplishments they made nowadays felt tasteless. Ever since you died, all of their success never felt as good as before. 

The team was quiet, walking through base together under a bright afternoon sun. Soap was the first to speak in that thick Scottish accent of his. “How about the bar tonight, lads? I could go for a drink.”

There was no answer for a moment, everyone hesitant to accept the offer. The last time they went out to the usual bar, they did have a good time. Until Ghost glanced over at what used to be your chair. He always did that when he went out to the bar. When he noticed the absence, everybody else did too. 

Ghost took your death the hardest. You gave your life to save his. It was a debt that he could never repay. Besides that, you were one of the best of them. The wittiest sense of humor, the most encouraging and supportive in and outside the battlefield. The best cook too when you were sick of the base’s cafeteria food. 

Drinking only made him forget about you for a short while, but it was always an offer he took up when he was invited out to the bar. “Sure, Johnny.”

“Count me in then too.” Gaz chimed in. Price nodded as well, the both of them having had formulated a plan for the next bar outing. Something that would hopefully bring all of them a little more closure, especially Ghost. 

They were going to propose a memorial. They held one a week after you died, yet it didn’t feel quite right. It was too formal. Too stiff. It was organized by the military. Ghost didn’t even go. They needed to organize one themselves. One that you would approve of better.

They just had to make sure Ghost would attend. A discussion that would be saved for the bar tonight.

Just before Soap could open his mouth to say something, Price spotted Kate running full speed towards them, tears streaming down her face. She was shaking and breathing so hard that it looked like she was close to a panic attack. 

“Kate?! What’s wrong? What happened?” Price already began to ask, the team ready to spring into action. 

She took a few deep breaths, working up the courage to reveal the truth that almost had her faint when she first heard it. “S-Spite. . . She’s alive. . . She’s alive!”

Ghost felt his heart drop. His blood ran contradictory temperatures. Hot and cold. His breath was stuck in his lungs. He lost color under his mask. Then, he clenched his teeth. No, this couldn’t be true. You got shot in the head. There was no way you could have survived that.

“Are you sure Kate? How do you know?” Price calmly tried to reason, not wanting to hold out for false hope either.

Laswell just nodded and opened her phone. In a single tap, your voice came out broken but alive. 

The team was frozen as they listened to your cry for help followed by your fearless determination. If they had any doubts before that it was really you, those doubts no longer existed as you said something only you would say. That you wouldn’t die empty handed. 

“Spite. . . you spiteful bastard. . .” Soap choked, not afraid to shed a tear. 

Kate put her phone back in her pocket and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I’ll have my people trace the call back to the location.”

Price nodded before turning to his men. “Gear up! We got a soldier to save!”

As soon as the order was given, Ghost left the group to go to his room in the barracks. He had to pack. His mind was racing as he began taking a few extra socks from his dresser. He could hardly believe it. You were alive. You, the person always on his mind even after all this time had passed, was still living. 

He couldn’t imagine the shit you were going through. And he felt like it was his fault.

No matter what, he promised himself, he would bring you back home. Even if it cost him his life this time. 

~

You didn’t know how many days had passed. Porakov took you out of your solitary cell to keep in a new prison located in his office. It was a beautiful office with fresh flowers, polished furniture, and a white carpet. In your new cell, a modern door that needed keycard access locked you in the room. The room was all white except for one wall made out of bullet-proof glass for Porakov’s viewing pleasure. 

Somehow, you missed your old cell. 

As you sat in the corner of your new room, you watched Porakov through the glass. He was chatting with someone new. Someone that looked out of place with their white coat and round glasses. A doctor perhaps?

Your captor finally looked at you, making your skin crawl. He gave a malicious grin like a wolf that trapped its prey. The stranger looked at you too, a curious quirk in his brow.

They approached your door, unlocked it, and stepped inside. You kept to the corner, shrinking yourself as much as you could. “Well? What do you think? Can you do it?”

The doctor examined you further, adjusting his glasses on his face. “I think so. It’s going to take some time, though. Can you have this room ready for me within two hours with everything I need?”

“We actually have everything ready to roll out.” The warden smirked before leaning into his walkie talkie and summoning workers to bring out rolling tables of medical equipment into the room. 

You watched with steel eyes as they set the room up with all the medical equipment. A metal slab as if it came from a vet’s room took up the center. Microchips, a bonesaw, scalpels, and tweezers decorated the various trays. It took nearly no time at all to get whatever torture method Porakov planned set up. 

The doctor began to sanitize his hands. “Such diligence isn’t even demonstrated in regular hospitals.”

“This is a special day.” Your captor responded before leaving the room only to watch behind the glass. As the doctor approached, you braced yourself like a cornered wild animal. 

The doctor eased back, treating you as such. “It’s alright. I’m going to fix you up. Make you feel better. You want that, don’t you? I know you’ve been in pain for a long time.”

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You simply warned, refusing to believe a single word he said. If he was working for Porakov, that was enough of a reason not to trust him. No self-respecting doctor would even entertain the idea of working for a vile man like him. 

The doctor frowned at your disobedience. “If you fight this, it’s going to hurt way more.”

As his hand inched closer to you, you sprung forward and attempted to bite. He pulled back just in time before you could bite a finger off. He cursed and turned to the glass. “You said she was broken!”

“Seems like she still has a little fight left in her. Apologies, doctor. It’s okay if you have to be rough with her. Teach her who’s boss.” The warden simply encouraged.

With a sigh, he revealed a small gun strapped to his belt. It wasn’t a regular gun. It was a tranquilizer gun. Realizing what was about to happen, you tried to get to your feet as quickly as you could, but it was too late. Your lack of proper body care made you lose your balance. A sharp pain hit your shoulder, a dart sticking out of you. Your vision already began to haze over, your body feeling heavier than ever before. Whatever was in the tranquilizer was enough to make you ragdoll, but not enough to put you to sleep. 

They wanted you awake for this.

Your limp body was lifted onto the table, giving Porakov a clear view of the show that was about to begin. 

It felt like you were beginning to disassociate. Tears escaped as you wished that you were dead instead of being here. Being treated like a rabid animal and a personal show made you sick. Dying alone in your cell would be better than this. 

Something caught Porakov’s attention for a moment. He seemed to be yelling at someone. It looked urgent. Before he left to handle business, he told the doctor to continue his work.

The doctor simply shrugged and focused back on you. He took a scalpel and began to make an incision along the palm of your hand. You felt the chill of the blade meet your hot blood, nerves going off as if you were touching a hot stove. You hissed and groaned at the pain, refusing to give him anymore than this if you could help it. 

But then, he began to dig around under your skin using the tweezers, shredding nerves and muscles like pulling apart thread. As he pinched your nerves directly, you screamed. A bloodcurdling scream that ripped apart your vocal chords. 

Ignoring your cries, he took a microchip and settled it between your flesh. It suddenly clicked for you. He was rewiring you. Finding your nerves like hidden wires to connect to microchips that were programmed to do god knows what to your body. 

Your mind went berserk, screaming at you to get out of there. To fight back. Adrenaline fought tranquilizer for control as your hand was being ripped apart from the inside. Your heart beated within your ears as you find the energy to grab a spare scalpel from the tray and swipe it along the doctor’s neck, letting gravity and momentum carry out your attack.

You heard the sound of him choking on blood, his tools clattering to the floor as he struggled to get his bleeding under control. Rolling off the table, you hit the ground hard with your hip. The breath that was knocked out of you made your head spin. You used to take most pain like a champ. Now, everything felt like your were getting hit by a truck. 

It didn’t stop you from trying to reorientate yourself, your bleeding, open hand clutching your head. When you finally managed to stand back up, the doctor was staggering to get out of the room. Taking advantage of his state of weakness, you took the bonesaw and prepared to ruin his hand like he tried to do to yours.

The doctor stumbled onto the pristine carpet of Porakov, staining it with his blood. As you got closer with the saw, his gurgles became more strained. Begging for mercy. Adrenaline was kicking in full swing now as you became engulfed in rageful flames. You took a flower vase to your left and threw it, hitting him square in the knees. While he was knocked down, you stepped on one of his wrists.

He had no choice but to take it unless he wanted to bleed out, his other hand still holding the wound. Without remorse, you began sawing off his left hand. Within a few seconds, you didn’t even hear the strained mixture of gurgles and screams anymore. You didn’t hear anything anymore as you just sawed away, taking out your time of suffering out on someone you thought deserved to die.

By the time the hand was detached, the doctor was already long gone. Your hands were shaking and you were exhausted. Everything was still mute, the sound of your heavy breath taking over your ears. 

It was the smell of gunpowder that snapped your attention to the exit. It was an undeniable scent. Something big was going on. Perhaps you were finally getting rescued.

You took a step towards the door before stopping altogether, the door suddenly slammed open to reveal a bloody, panicked Porakov. He clutched his side that was staining his uniform in blood. The strap he usually carried was missing. 

Adrenaline came rushing back as you were presented with your chance for revenge. Your step forward brought his attention to you. His eyes widened in fear. The animal was out of her cage. 

Behind him, heavy footsteps approached. The door slammed open again, this time revealing a face that you never thought you’d get to see again. Blue eyes behind a dark skull. Your heart almost collapsed in on itself as you took him in. Even with the black paint around his eyes, you could tell that he was tired despite the rage. 

Most of his anger melted away as Ghost saw you. Dehydrated and malnourished beyond belief. Bloody and sunken in. Eyes full of a mix of emotions that he wished he could ask about.

You looked back at your warden, shaking in his boots like a coward. This pathetic man that tortured you to the point of such weakness was now silently praying for mercy. 

“Hold him down for me.” You ordered Ghost, your voice darker than the depths of the ocean. 

He didn’t think you should be exerting yourself over anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny your order. You needed this. He wanted to give it to you.

A bullet hit Porakov’s knee, making sure he wouldn’t struggle too much for what you were about to do. As he screamed, Ghost settled himself in his office chair, tying him down with some spare duct tape he always kept on him. 

You approached the desk, steadying yourself with your hands. Your left hand was beginning to feel numb by the second, nerves shredded like old newspaper after using both hands to work the saw. Your right hand was missing your pinkie finger. 

“I’m going to make you wish you’ve never been born.” You simply stated, taking back up the bonesaw. Ghost silently watched you bring the serrated blades down on Porakov’s fingers, amazed that your desire for revenge was enough to give your body energy. He supposed that that was one of the things he missed about you. Your unwavering determination to see something through. 

For this, you made sure to tune in in order to hear all the cries your warden had as you took all of his fingers. It was a sound you dreamed of hearing. This moment was what you’ve been waiting for. 

Yet, your heart seemed to remain empty as you watched his fingers fall to the rug. You didn’t stop until all of his fingers were gone, but it all still felt so hollow. You thought if you could get your revenge, you would get your closure. So why wasn’t this as enjoyable as you thought it would be?

Sobs filled the space when you were done. The man you resented shriveled in his seat as he wept for his lost body parts. You clenched your jaw, feeling yourself fill with a cold, angry flame. “Lock him in the cell over there.”

“Wh-What?! Y-You can’t! What about food and water?!” He began to shout, squirming in his chair as Ghost rolled him into the cell. You were lucky that he couldn’t care less about doing the military-right thing. To both of you, this was the right thing to do.

“You are going to die cold, sad, and alone in that cell. I’ll guarantee it.” You promised, watching Ghost situate him in the far corner. He noticed the medical tools scattered around along with the metal medical table. The thought of you strapped down, screaming and losing pieces of your life with each cut made him want to beat the shit out of Porakov. But, it wasn’t what you wanted for him. 

He left and closed the room before giving you space to lock it. As the both of you looked through the glass, taking one last sight of Porkav, you said your final goodbye. “Fuck you, Warden.”

Ghost followed behind as you began to leave, your adrenaline dying back down much faster than you expected. You were downright lethargic when you closed the door to the office, locking it behind you. “Break that shit. Make sure it will be locked for good.”

“Spi-”

“Now, Simon!” You snapped, not meaning to take your pain out on him. In response, he bit his tongue and followed your order. He just wished he could hear you call his name without so much hurt behind it.

As you heard him break the locking mechanism, you leaned against the wall, your vision swirling. Everything began to get hazy and dark, something pulling you into either death or sleep. You couldn’t fight it this time, your body exhausted from all the fighting you’ve spent months doing. 

Ghost turned around as soon as he heard your body hit the floor, out cold. “Spite? Y/n?!”

He took you up in his arms and felt your pulse. Slow, but alive. He didn’t know where your blood began and enemy blood ended. You were so much lighter than what he remembered too.

It should’ve been him to get caught.

Carrying you in his arms, he radioed for evac. This time, you would get on that helicopter and be taken home, safe and sound. He would make sure of it.

~

You didn’t wake up for a while. A long while. By the time you did, you were a fraction into recovering from surgeries already. They fixed up your hand as best the doctors could, they got you on IVs and nourishment. They even had a dentist come in to replace any missing teeth. 

The only thing they couldn’t fix or replace was your pinkie finger. That was something you had to live with for the rest of your life now. A constant reminder of what happened. At least you could wear certain clothes to cover up your numerous scars. It was impossible to comfortably hide a missing finger. 

Ghost never left your room. Everyone took turns visiting you, even in your unconscious state. He stayed, though, the entire time. 

He did everything for you that the nurses couldn’t. Making sure you were comfortable with blankets and pillow changes, making sure you had fresh flowers in your hospital room. He even played music he knew you liked, just in case you could somehow hear the world around you. 

Anything to make up for being the one to take his bullet, he would do.

It was a sight for sore eyes when you finally opened them and saw him. Your throat was parched and sore, but you still spoke out to get his attention from a book he was reading. “Ghost?”

“Spite.” He immediately looked up. Jesus, you could cry. In fact, you did start to cry. 

Tears began to travel down your cheeks. “I. . . I thought I’d never see you again. . .”

He took your right hand in his, a gesture that he has never done before, but not unwelcome. His hand was large, warm, and. . . perfect. “Me too, dove. We thought we lost you.”

“I did get shot in the head.” You justified, already trying to bring some easiness back with some dark humor. 

Ghost missed your humor so much. It was easy to match. “You’ll have to show me how to do that party trick.”

You gave a short snicker. “You just gotta get a metal plate installed in your head. Wouldn’t recommend it, though. Hurts like hell.”

He finally gave a laugh, the first time since he lost you. Squeezing your hand tighter, he prepared the words that he actually wanted to say for when you woke up. “You took that bullet for me. It should have been me, but you took it. I-”

You interrupted him, already knowing where this was going. “Stop. You would’ve done the same for any of us. That’s what it means to trust each other with our lives. You don’t owe me shit for it, okay?”

Before Ghost could reply, the door to your hospital room opened. Your nurse stepped in with some new IV bags and blankets. She was taken aback as she noticed that you were awake. It didn’t take long for the doctor to rush in and for Ghost to get kicked out. 

While he waited, he contacted the team to let them know that you were finally awake. They wasted no time in rushing over to see how you were doing, eager to see who they thought was dead. As soon as the doctor gave them the all clear, you were bombarded with the affection of your team. 

For a moment, it made you forget about the horrors of your capture. 

The fun was spoiled when the doctor came back into the room. The immediate question on everyone’s mind was regarding your stay.

“How long until I can get discharged?” You asked, eager to go back home without thinking too much about it. After the words left your mouth though, you realized that you probably didn’t have a home to go back to. Shit, all of your stuff was probably gone since you were declared dead. . . 

“If everything goes smoothly, we can send you out tomorrow. However, you’ll need a lot of time to recover. We’re going to recommend physical therapy, some new medications, and a therapy recommendation. What you went through is something you should process with time. Do you have anyone that could help take care of you at home?”

You became silent and bit your lip. Before you were assumed to be dead, you didn’t really get along with your family. Knowing your family, they probably rejoiced over your death before immediately going over your will. You would’ve loved to be a fly on that wall. 

And now that you were apparently still alive, you wondered how they would respond to asking for your stuff back. That was going to be something.

With no family, no home, and a list of things to do now that you were back, you began to get a headache. Just as you were about to explain the situation, though, Ghost chimed up.

“I’ll take care of her.”

Your eyes widened at the idea of Ghost being by your side for essentially twenty-four hours a day. “I already told you that you don’t owe me shit.”

He shook his head. “I’m not volunteering because of guilt.”

Now Price was the one to speak up. “It won’t have to be all on Ghost. We can take turns visiting and keeping an eye on you. Hell, we’ll take care of the hard tasks too while you recover.”

Feeling your headache become stronger triggered by new stress, you give up quickly. You were too tired to argue. “Fine.”

“Great! We’ll continue to monitor you and ensure you’ll be ready for discharge soon.”

~

You awkwardly waited in Ghost’s car as he prepared your wheelchair. Your legs were weak, but not unusable. For a brief moment, you argued with him about using a cane to help you walk. He was pretty insistent that you still took it very easy to the point that it was hard to say no.

Once he opened your car door, you got into the chair and looked up at the tall apartment complex. You wondered which floor was Ghost’s as he wheeled you in. 

“You’ll be using my room while I sleep on the pullout couch. If you need help getting around anywhere, just ask. Price and Kate will visit later to discuss some options.” He explained as if he was going through a checklist. 

“Options?”

He shrugged. “Job options. Living options.”

As he pushed you into the elevator, you began to panic. Job options? Did they intend on letting you go? Yeah, you were pretty fucked at the moment, but you just needed some time to get back in shape. You really don’t want to lose your job. Despite everything that happened, you still wanted to be part of the team. 

With each ding of the elevator indicating a passing floor, you got more and more nervous. Ghost looked down at you, noticing how hard you were gripping your seat. His eyes couldn’t help but notice your missing finger on one hand and limp strength for the other. A sting in his chest had him look away.

He wasn’t letting you live with him out of guilt, but he was still sorry that this happened to you.

The elevator doors finally opened on the highest floor, revealing a long hallway leading to only a few doors. At the farthest end of the corridor, Ghost reached the apartment. A blast of refreshing A/C hit your senses first. The further he wheeled you in, the more you began to notice more.

His whole place was tidy and organized, a fact that contradicted what you remember about him. From what you remember, the guy was a mess. His desk at work was always crowded with paperwork, empty mugs of tea, and sticky notes meant to remind him on what to do next. 

The sweet smell of pipe tobacco and vanilla spread across the environment, a few plug-in air fresheners scattered around. It made your anxiety melt as you became more familiar with the scent you used to smell everyday on Ghost. 

He parked you near his polished dining table and placed a laptop in front of you. Your old laptop. “I’m gonna get some lunch started. I figure that you want some time to see what you missed?”

You nodded and booted up the laptop with your better hand. Your hand with damaged nerves needed some therapy focus before it could be fully functional again. “Thanks, Ghost. I appreciate this.”

“Of course.” He responded as he wandered off into his kitchen. A little window viewing the dining room allowed him to monitor you while he cooked. As we figured out what to make, he stared at you from a distance.

Color was returning back to your face. You were still light, but he would put some meat back on those bones soon. There was a shine back in your eyes that brought him back to those fun nights at the bar with you. He remembered your smile, your laugh, your gaze.

He remembered how you used to talk about cooking, one of your favorite things to do, whenever he had a moment alone with you. It was one of the things that made you light up. Ghost would sit there for hours, listening to you talk about what you’ve made, what you want to make, a new technique you want to try, how you should be in charge of the mess hall.

Deciding lunch, he shifted his focus on cooking, already predicting that it wasn’t going to be half as good as your cooking.

While you heard the sound of pots and pans clanging together, your hands ached. There was a phantom knife in your hand, waiting to start chopping vegetables that didn’t exist. For a moment, you willed your hands to move like you were entering prep-mode. 

Your wrist quickly gave out within a few motions of pretend chopping. Not to mention that your left hand refused to curl your fingers in right. 

When will you be able to cook like you did again?

When will everything feel normal again?

The knock on the door snapped you out of your pity party. Ghost answered it and directed Price and Kate to you, as promised. Kate gave you a pearly smile and Price gave you a warm pat on the shoulder. 

They took their seats and then immediately dived into the grit. Ghost eavesdropped from the kitchen. “We don’t want to bullshit you, Spite. There are a lot of things that need to happen before you can return to your job. We can’t even give you desk duty until you do a few things first.”

You crossed your arms over her chest, not liking where this was going. “Like what?”

Kate passed over a manilla folder containing various paperwork sheets and tests. “First, we would need to interview you. Ask you about what happened while you were imprisoned.”

A scoff escaped your lips. “You wanna know if I opened my mouth about anything.”

“We know you didn’t and you never would. A team sent with us when we came to rescue you collected whatever evidence and intel they could get their hands on. They found recordings of your interrogations. We’re going through them now to make sure you kept certain things confidential.” Price reassured, already sensing that you were beginning to stress out.

You understood why it had to be done. It just made you sick to your stomach that your torture was being looked at solely for the purpose of checking to see if you were a good soldier. “Who’s reviewing the recordings?”

“Professionals. But they want your testimony too.” Kate vaguely elaborated, trying to move past this already.

You didn’t let up, though. Instead, you asked for something that shocked the both of them. Even Ghost who was chopping onions paused mid-cut. “Can I choose someone from the team to review them instead?”

“Why would you want that?”

“I don’t want a couple of strangers viewing something as intimate as my torture. I would rather have someone I know I can trust see those recordings.” You justified, not thinking much about the weight of that request. 

Kate and Price looked between each other, silently debating on if they should honor your request. There was a concern of conflict of interest, but then again, the 141 got a few special privileges. Price cleared his throat. “Who would you want to see the recordings?”

The obvious answer should have been Kate, but it wasn’t. In fact, you really didn’t want Kate to look at any part of your torture. You didn’t even think she could stomach it. She was capable and tough like the rest of you, but she worked more from the shadows to save her from horrendous bloodshed. 

There were only three people that you felt like could handle it. Price, Ghost, and yourself. Like hell they were going to let you see your own footage though. “Would you and Ghost mind?”

Price gave it some deep thought before nodding. “I can do it if that’s what you want. Ghost?”

Ghost wasn’t surprised that Price knew he was eavesdropping. “I’ll do it.”

Kate immediately closed that part of the conversation. “Well that’s that. Next, we have to retest you in multiple areas. Physical, mental, shooting range, the whole works. Some of the intelligence based tests can be done sooner, but the rest will have to wait until you are physically fit again.”

“That could take weeks.” You grumbled, already getting impatient with your recovery process. 

“We have time. Outside of work tasks, anything that should take priority in your personal life. Besides the basics, of course.” Price switched topics, hoping that will brighten your mood a little. 

You did like bossing them around when you had the chance. With a smirk, you began rattling off all the things you needed them to do for you. “Contact my lawyer and family. Gotta get that sorted out and hopefully get some stuff back if my folks haven’t tossed anything out yet. And if I don’t have to be the one to do it, the better. That’s probably the first major errand. Most of the other things will have to wait until the basics are done.”

“I do want my favorite brand of coffee here. Sorry, Ghost, but your coffee is shit.” You spoke a little louder, making sure that Ghost could hear you. Doing so made your throat already feel sore, but it was worth it when you got to here a chuckle back.

“Tell me how you really feel.” He smiled beneath the mask as he pushed the diced veggies into a large pot filled with chicken stock. The aroma of chicken soup was making you salivate. 

Kate and Price eased up from your humor too as they added your coffee request to their list. After a few more minutes of chatter, they said goodbye so you could enjoy lunch. It was a good thing too because you were hungry and your voice was getting sore.

Ghost finished up the simple chicken noodle soup. Carrots, onions, celery, leftover shredded chicken melded together in a stock that was sure to be nutritious yet easy on your recovering stomach. When he served you a bowl, you nearly cried at how good it looked. 

With a shaky hand, you lifted your spoon and took a taste. Before you knew it, you began to silently cry. Ghost, who returned to the table with his own bowl, began to panic at your tears. “It doesn’t taste good?”

“This is the best meal I’ve ever had.” You sobbed, recalling all of the shitty, bland food and starvation you had to deal with. To you, this simple chicken soup was heaven on earth. 

Ghost didn’t know what to say, think, or feel for a moment. He didn’t expect such high praise, even if your reasoning was something he could guess. He settled for a proud, simple response. “Thanks. Take your time.”

Silently, you ate, savoring every ounce of flavor that graced your tastebuds. The egg noodles were perfectly al dente, the carrots were tender, and the chicken pieces were easy to swallow. Miraculously, it sparked a deep hunger for more food. But, you still needed to take it easy. If you ate the portion size you did before capture now, you would lose such a delicious lunch. 

“Why did you choose me to review your footage?” Ghost suddenly asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He was content with watching you eat so gratefully, yet the memories of the conversation before lunch still haunted him.

Your hand stopped moving the spoon within the bowl. You didn’t expect him to ask something like that. Normally, he just followed orders. “I think you would handle seeing it better than others. Not gonna lie, there is probably some gnarly stuff on those tapes.”

His stomach twisted into knots at the mention. He would still do this for you, of course, but he probably wasn’t going to be as strong as you thought he was about it.

 It was your torture after all. 

~

Adjustment was going smoothly. There were some hiccups here and there, but you soon got used to Ghost taking care of you. He got used to relinquishing more control over to you as well. You quickly graduated to only needing a walking cane occasionally thanks to your dedication to physical therapy. Your hands needed more work, but at least you could get around the apartment with ease. 

When you earned your achievement of free walking, you got more bossy and impatient. It was something Ghost was able to handle it since you delivered it with humor and hard work, but he soon began to notice dips in your mood here and there. 

He has been adamant about sleeping on the couch while you took his room. Since you began walking, you have tried to change that sleeping arrangement to no avail. Everytime you looked at the couch, a brief flash of guilt went over your face. 

He would catch you looking at your hands a lot, willing them to do more than just twitch and shake. Your brow would furrow in frustration when you practiced holding different movements and weights. Occasionally, you would hiss from pain as you tried to force progress. It became routine for him to end up holding your hands to make sure you gave yourself a break. 

The other issue that was hard to resolve was your night terrors. Ghost thought his nightmares were bad, but they seemed like nothing compared to how you would scream in the middle of the night. It would always startle him awake. He would always rush to the door to calm you down. You would always tremble and cry in his arms. 

You couldn’t go back to sleep unless Ghost was with you, his arms tight around your body and holding you close to his chest. The sound of his heartbeat became a lullaby that always made you regain your breathing.

The more he took care of you, the more he began to notice things about you. He was getting closer to you than ever before as he spent time with you every day. Sure, he was looking out for you, but it didn’t feel like a chore. Having you live with him became such a natural sight to him. It was like you always belonged there. 

So it really unnerved him when he was finally called to review your footage. 

You said goodbye to him when he left for base. For the first time, you were alone. Ghost gave you strict instructions to take it easy, forbidding you from certain activities while he was gone. However, you paid no mind to his warning, eager to normalize your life even more. 

The feeling of the chef’s knife in your palm was a familiar weight that brought back so many memories. You had been wanting to get back into cooking earlier, but Ghost always scolded you and said you weren’t ready yet. 

You planned on proving him wrong by cooking dinner for tonight. Something simple and comforting. Pasta with a homemade sauce. 

Your dreams felt like they were shattering as you struggled to open the tomato can with the opener though. The strength it took made your hands ache almost immediately. Having the strength to push the weight of the blade down into the garlic was agony too. Even with a sharp knife, you were having such a hard time doing what was meant to be easy.

Only thirty minutes had passed after Ghost left when you ended up lying on the kitchen floor, crying for your hands to work again and for a life you lost. 

Meanwhile, Ghost was just arriving on base. He wondered if you were doing alright. He hoped you weren’t pushing yourself while he was gone. Damn, he should’ve asked Gaz or Soap to watch you. He didn’t want to treat you like a child, but he knew you well enough that you were probably doing something you weren’t supposed to. 

That’s how you got your call sign in the first place. 

“Lieutenant Ghost, you ready?” Price ushered him into a secured, private room. Soundproof, dark, and void of any windows. Various tapes sat on a table next to a small TV. Ghost grabbed a chair and settled in, trying to relax as much as he can. 

“Pay attention, try to stay unbiased, and keep this confidential. We can only talk about this with each other, Spite, and the investigation leaders.” Price ordered like a captain. Resolute and sharp. Despite the confidence in his voice, your captain was afraid. He didn’t want to see one of his best sergeants get tortured. 

Ghost was trying to steel himself for it too. “Yes, Captain.”

With that, Price hit play and took the small seat next to Ghost. The footage began with the first day you were captured. You were stirring unconscious, strapped to a chair, and bleeding out of the side of your head where you got shot. The scene already had Ghost simmering with rage and sorrow.

He watched as you woke up, met your warden, and then immediately took a molar from you with swift punches to the jaw. He watched you spit the blood back in his face, growl threats he could never repeat, and then have your knees shattered with a sledgehammer. 

It was clear that it hurt. That it was agony. The way your lungs gasped for air. The way you bit back your screams only to echo within your throat. The way you lost consciousness for a moment only to wake up from immense pain as they cut you. 

And yet, you didn’t say a word. You never mentioned your name. Never revealed who you were with and why. You didn’t let anything get past your locked lips.

Porakov punished your resilience with more torture. Ten minutes in and it was already getting too much for Ghost to handle. How could anyone survive this? How did you? 

His stomach turned as he watched the day you lost your pinkie finger. You were getting noticeably weaker and skinnier with each new day on the tape. Your knee was still healing. Porakov only took advantage of this as he pushed you around. 

None of his questions got answers. Not a single one. Not even when the gardening shears pinched around your delicate finger. 

Ghost almost threw up when he witnessed the final cut. You screamed, but you didn’t cry. You never did. At least, not in front of Porakov. It wasn’t until everyone left you in the cell that you let your pain turn into tears. And it absolutely broke his heart.

Feeling lightheaded, Ghost began to reach for the pause button on the TV. Price beat him to it, though. “I think that’s enough for today. Thought I could sit through what I allotted for this, but this is hard to watch. Even for me. Sorry, Lieutenant.”

After scheduling the next time to watch more footage, Ghost rushed back to his car to drive home. How could he have left you home by yourself after everything that’s been done to you?! You stayed optimistic and humorous most of the time, but there was no way you were really okay. No one would be okay if they went through what you went through.

There was still months of footage left to sift through.

Not caring about the risks of getting pulled over, Ghost sped along the highway leading back home. He began trying to call you, hoping that your new phone that the team got you was working fine. 

When you didn’t answer, he tried again, the pit in his soul becoming darker and bigger. He shouldn’t have left you home alone. 

He stopped trying after the tenth calling attempt. Instead, he focused on speeding faster. He got back to the apartment within record time. When he slammed the door open, he began looking for you.

His terror amplified as he found you on the kitchen floor, knife laying next to you and dinner prep unfinished. Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were staring off into the distance. The light in your eyes was gone. Just like the day you ordered for your warden to be killed.

You didn’t remember when the panic attack started. Somewhere in the middle of your grief perhaps. It completely crippled you. Plunged you into such a horrible memory that you were desperately trying to forget. Your breath was stolen and your heart ached as if you pushed a knife into it. 

Afterwards, you dissociated. You couldn’t register the cold tiles beneath you. You couldn’t remember what you were doing in the first place. You didn’t even hear your phone go off or Ghost rushing into the house. 

Warmth stirred you back to the land of the living, Ghost’s arms wrapping tight around you. An unfamiliar sensation buried into the crook of your neck. The feeling of light stubble and shaky breaths. It was then that you realized that he had taken off his mask to bury his face into you. 

Slowly, you wrapped your sore arms around his broad shoulders. The natural, sweet scent of you just made him feel the need to hold you tighter. Closer. 

He never wanted to leave your side again. 

“Is this hug for me? Or for you?” You half-joked, returning to your usual self with a sore voice. 

His shoulders relaxed as he heard your question. Relief soon morphed into anger as he realized that you tried to do without him there. It was hard for him to keep his voice from rising. “I told you to take it easy. I thought something happened to you.”

You flinched back, not expecting to be scolded so soon. “I just thought-”

“The only thoughts you should be having is about recovering.” He pulled back from the hug, allowing you to really see his face up close. 

You had only seen his face a couple of times before your capture. You had served with the 141 for under a year, so it made sense why you didn’t get to see it often. But now that you could really get a good look, your heart skipped a beat and a blush slowly crept along your cheeks. 

His eyes were much brighter without the mask already. Flecks of black warpaint revealed blond lashes that matched his light locks. His jaw looked like it was carved from quartz and a few scars only gave character to his strong features. 

Fuck, your old, childish crush on him was beginning to resurface at the worst possible moment.

You swallowed hard and averted your gaze. The hammering of your heart made it hard to figure out what to say next. “Sorry. . .”

Ghost gave a deep sigh, raking a large hand through his hair. Seeing the guilt in your eyes made him feel like he fucked up. He shouldn’t be making you feel like this. “No, Spite. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Not only that, but seeing your tapes followed by you not answering the phone and then looking dead on the floor had him think the worst. Though, he wasn’t ready to saddle you with that burden. You needed comfort and stability. 

Gently, he cupped your cheek, guiding your gaze back up to his. Your breath hitched as he did, his touch now feeling like electricity. “What were you trying to make?”

“Pasta. . .” 

“You really want to get back into cooking?”

At that, you gave a firm nod. It would be something that would make you feel better. Normal. Even if it was just for a moment. You really needed to create something with your hands. 

Ghost couldn’t deny you. Not when you made such a beautifully, determined expression.  

Carefully, he stood up and helped you get back on your feet. The knife on the floor was put into the sink. A new chef’s knife was placed in your hand. Before you could ask what he was doing, he positioned you in front of the cutting board, stood close behind you to the point where your back was touching his chest, and he held his hands over yours. “Let me know if you start to hurt. You can lean back on me if you need it too.”

Now your heart was really racing. The whirlwind shift of emotions made you lightheaded. How could you switch from a panic attack to feeling lovesick? How could you still have a crush on him after all this time? 

It took you a moment to relax under his touch and allow him to use your hands to cut the garlic. The heat of his chest seeped into your back as he cautiously guided the cooking process with you in the middle. When he spoke up, his voice so close to your ear, you nearly fainted. “You feeling alright?”

“Y-Yeah. . . I’m fine. Thanks, Ghost.” You stuttered out, feeling embarrassed by the proximity. 

“You know, you can call me Simon when it’s just me and you, dove.” He allowed, feeling the heat of your own body rise against his chest. He couldn’t see your face clearly, but he could tell that your ears were turning red. 

It stirred something deep within himself.

Your brain short-circuited when he gave you permission to use his real name. You had only used it when you needed him to understand your serious intentions. It wasn’t something you took lightly. Now, he wanted you to call him that more intimately. 

At first, you didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t until you realized that all of the cloves of garlic were minced perfectly, your hands still able to take a little more cooking. “Seriously. Thank you, Simon.”

His heart leapt when you used his name like he wanted. “Of course, dove. Anything for you.” 

Simon didn’t move an inch away from you until everything was ready to get tossed onto the stove. When the prep work was done, you had excused yourself to go rest, allowing him to finish dinner. 

He let you go, but he really didn’t want to. He could never let you go now. Especially not when you were definitely blushing over him. 

It wasn’t that you needed rest from cooking. You needed rest from Simon. A minute to get your heartbeat under control. This wasn’t like you. You were confident, resilient, strong, spiteful. Not gooey and bashful. 

Only Ghost could make you feel this way. 

You had a crush on him when you first met the team. It was the air of mystery that drew you to him first. His sense of humor, confidence, and intelligence that matched yours drew you in deeper. He had said that he was actually quite handsome under the mask, and you believed him during that time. 

That’s all you tried to leave it at, though. A silly little crush. Being in the presence of a strong, muscular, and confident man would make anyone feel weak in the knees. That’s what you told yourself when you were stomping out your feelings for the sake of professionalism. 

It worked too. After snuffing out that crush, you grew to be a friend to him. He trusted you more and you trusted him. There was nothing in the world that would make you trade over the friendship you had with him. With anyone on your team. It was the right thing to do at the time and it still was. 

So why the hell were you falling in love with him all over again?

~

You chalked it up to being locked up for too long. Of course your heart would begin to sway towards Ghost. He’s been taking care of you and you’ve been living with him and he’s the first man you’ve been spending time with. Now that you realize this, snuffing out your feelings again shouldn’t be so hard.

Keyword: Shouldn’t.

Ghost made it really difficult for you to maintain some space from him. You have been adamant about healing through cooking. He’s been adamant about being with you every step of the way. Holding you between his arms in case you feel faint, guiding your hands when you don't have the strength, speaking directly into your ear when he wants to talk to you. 

Everytime he came back from base, his clinginess increased tenfold. You knew that he was coming back from watching your footage. But you didn’t want to be pitied or the center of any guilt he may have. 

“How are you feeling? Are you ready for your interview, dove?” Simon hovered near his bedroom door, watching you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You have been looking a lot better after these couple of months. You gained a wealthy weight, you were getting around much better, and some of your strength returned to your muscles. 

It was still a ways to go before you could go out onto the field again, but it was a good start. Besides the night terrors that still haunted you, you were beginning to look like your old self.

At least, that’s what it looked like to him. You, on the other hand, were beginning to stress about how you looked. It felt good for your body to be getting back on the right track, yet you found imperfections. Things you had to be patient about such as your hair. 

The doctors had to cut it in order to put a new metal plate back in your head. Your hair was growing back decently fast, but not fast enough to your liking. Besides the hair, you were covered in scars that weren’t fading anytime soon. Probably never with how deep they went. 

“Dove?”

Simon snapped you out of your stupor. “H-Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m ready to go.”

“That’s not what I asked. You can talk to me about anything, you know?” Simon stepped forward, hoping to cure your sudden anxiety. 

“Sorry, just a little distracted I guess.” You brushed off. It would be embarrassing to tell him how you felt ugly right now. The last thing you wanted to do was fish for compliments too. 

Simon knew you were lying, but he dropped it. Instead, he followed you out of the apartment and drove you to the interview. On the way there, you let the radio fill the silence between the two of you.

He gripped the steering wheel tight, wondering why the hell you were so distant from him all of a sudden. The two of you were getting along great when you first arrived. Now, you were locking yourself up in his bedroom a lot more, speaking to him less, and had your head in the clouds when he was trying to talk to you. 

Did he do something wrong? Make you feel bad about something? He thought you liked him.

The car pulled up onto the base, a place you haven’t seen for a long time. Everything looked like how you remembered. Military grays, greens, and browns. Recruits jogging around. The smell of cigarette smoke in the air. It almost seemed like nothing had changed.

Price greeted you halfway to the interview and then escorted you to it. It was the same room they used to examine your footage, the tapes finally over. You sat in a seat across from a woman in a business suit. 

Price and Simon were ordered to stay out in the hall and wait. As they waited for you, Simon thought about getting back in your good graces. 

“She alright? She seemed more quiet than usual on the walk.” Price suddenly spoke up, also curious about the trouble in paradise. 

“Don’t know. She hasn’t told me anything about what’s been bothering her.” He confessed, an annoyed tone lacing with his words. 

The captain hummed in thought. “Has she taken that offer to see a therapist?”

“Nope. Only the physical therapist. You think she needs it?” 

“It wouldn’t hurt. I think it would be good for her to really unpackage everything that went down before we put a gun back in her hands. Someone that’s a professional.”

Simon gave it some thought. As much as he wanted to be the one you turned to to talk about your feelings, he agreed that you would most likely feel better talking to a professional. He wasn’t necessarily equipped to provide both comfort and trauma solving. 

Hell, he probably needs therapy too.

He figured that he would suggest the idea when the two of you return home. Let you sleep on it. 

You exited the room after about an hour. The interview took much longer than you expected, but they were thorough. No detail was to be left unspoken. It was a wonder how you managed to talk about everything that happened without breaking down. Perhaps it was because you did really want your job back. The more capable you seemed, the more likely they would give it to you.

After a quick stop visiting Gaz and Soap, Simon took you back to the apartment. You entered the space so naturally that it felt like it was your home. Simon even let you buy some decor to make the place more comfortable for you that you could take to your new apartment, whenever that would be available. 

Before Simon could invite you to sit on the couch with him for a moment to talk, you had already closed the door to the bedroom. The interview left you tired. It was still taking a while to get your voice used to talking again. 

As you crossed the space, you noticed your reflection in the mirror. You looked the same from when you left. Maybe a little bit more exhausted, but still the same, unflattering body you wished was completely back to normal already.

There was a soft knock on the door. You didn’t register it as you just sat on the floor, looking at your reflection and wondering what you could do to make yourself feel pretty again. Since you didn’t answer, Simon slowly opened the door. 

“Dove? What’s wrong?” He cautiously asked, not wanting to startle you. 

You gave a deep sigh that even he felt in his soul. “Just. . . missing the me from before.”

His shoulders felt lighter in relief. He was so glad that you were talking to him again. However, It was souring quickly now that your words were settling in. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. . . I guess. . . I thought that I was decently pretty before. I was happy with how I looked. . . I don’t really see that anymore.” You tried to explain, feeling your throat begin to choke on each word. God, you felt stupid.

Simon could hardly believe it. To him, you were still the prettiest lady he’s ever met. Your smile made his day brighter. Your hands felt warm and perfect in his. Your eyes were works of art he could stare into all day. 

He was in love with you.

“W-What?” Your face grew red, not understanding why he was staring so intensely at you. So seriously. It’s been a while since you’ve faced him this close. Did he think you were being dumb too? 

He took a seat behind you on the floor and pulled you into his lap. An arm snaked across your stomach before you could escape. His other hand guided your chin to look back into the mirror. “Take a good look at yourself again, dove. Don’t tell me that you’re not pretty anymore because it’s not true.”

Your heart was going to burst from your chest. If you stay like this with him for much longer, it would be impossible to destroy your feelings for him. “Si-”

“Your cheeks are turning pink. Are you getting embarrassed?” He tightened his hold and deepened his voice. He would do anything to make you feel attractive again. Including revealing that he was attracted to you.

As he pointed out your blush, you only reddened deeper. “T-This is because you surprised me!”

“Oh? It’s not because you like me?” He teased, not being able to help himself. Before everything, you were so confident and enthusiastic at work. He never got to see your bashful side. It was incredibly cute. 

You froze in his lap as he revealed your secret. How long has he known?! Was he just toying with you right now?! This was not how you imagined a confession going at all, not that you ever really planned on confessing. 

Turning your head to face him directly, you attempted to dig out of the hole you were in. “Simon-”

“You’re too cute.” He suddenly admitted before pressing his lips firmly against yours. He lost control as soon as he saw your expression up close within his lap. The way your brows furrowed, how your ears turned more pink by the second, how you called him by his name. 

There was no way in hell he was going to make you feel unattractive right now. 

Startled by the kiss, it took you a moment to realize what was happening. When your brain did kick back into gear, you could hardly believe it. Simon was kissing you. Not just that, but he was kissing you so deeply that it made you melt.

You couldn’t possibly fight back your feelings for him now. 

Eventually, you began kissing him back. When he felt your effort, he took that as a good sign to keep going. Your lips were so soft and warm against his. Your weight in his embrace felt perfect. His tongue swiped at your lips and then plunged into your mouth to taste even more of you.

You softly moaned into his mouth, electricity firing all along your nerves. His muscular, strong chest against your back made you feel hot all over. His tongue that aimed to taste every inch of you did just that. A sensation you haven’t felt for what felt like decades began to spread throughout your pelvis. 

His hand guided your gaze back to the mirror in front of you, your own expression making your breath hitch. Cheeks pink, lips swollen, chest rising and falling rapidly. The bottom of your shirt was a little hiked up, exposing just an inch of waist that drove Simon wild. “See, dove? You’re perfect.”

He held your chin in place, forcing you to watch as he trailed kisses along the side of your neck. His free hand slipped under your shirt, feeling skin that now matched his. You gasped and shivered as he felt you up, feeling his hand travel further up until he reached the bottom wire of your bra. The kisses mixed with tongue and teeth against your neck made you whimper in excitement.

“You’re still soft to the touch. Still warm and living. How I see you hasn’t changed. You are still the same pretty woman I grew to like so much.” He sweetly confessed into your ear as he stripped off your shirt. 

Simon liked you too? Since when? Mental questions faded away as you noticed him unsnap your bra to reveal your breasts. Your hands instinctively went to cover them up, but he caught your wrists in his hand.

“No, dove. I gotta show you just how attractive you are. Keep looking at your pretty little face in the mirror.” He playfully smirked, loving this new side of you more than he imagined. His cock was already pressing against the fabric of his pants, getting bigger by the second. 

With your wrists still held together, he began to massage your breasts. The other side of your neck was shown some love through feverish kisses, making you squirm in his lap. You could feel his growing erection pressed behind you, making your pussy tingle with need. When he pinched a nipple tight, you let a moan slip.

As he dragged his tongue along your neck, he watched the pleasure on your face through the mirror. His pants felt tighter by the second, eager to really show you just how attractive you were to him. 

Limbs felt like jelly as he continued to tease you. When your wrists felt more slack in his grip, he let go to use both hands. You sat in his lap, melted and shivering as he played with both of your nipples. “You’re so sensitive. It’s really turning me on, dove.”

You pressed your legs tighter together, feeling your wetness slowly stain your panties. Simon’s strong chest rose with his labored breath, cock now aching with pain from the restriction of his clothes. He wanted more. He wanted to see every inch of you.

He guided your legs to spread for him, making sure that your pussy would be clear as day through the mirror. You debated fighting back before things went too far, but his hands on you felt incredible. You were so turned on too, despite feeling embarrassed about how weak and bashful you looked. 

In one move, your pants and panties were gone, revealing your slick cunt for both you and Simon to see. Instinctively, you tried to close your legs. However, Simon made sure that you didn’t. He made sure you looked at the mirror too. “Take a good look, dove. So wet for me. . . So pretty. Pink. Soft. Never seen something so delicious before.”

His large fingers began to rub through your folds, spreading your wetness around easily. His eyes grew feverish as he spread you open, feeling the pulse that traveled through you. 

You gasped as he started rubbing your clip in slow, deep circles. Almost two years of abstinence made you sensitive beyond comprehension. “Ah~! Simon~!”

“That’s right, dove. Don’t stop looking at yourself.” He instructed, his voice so deep that it echoed in your head. Lightning zipped through you as he continued to tease your clit, another hand going back to your hard nipples.

God, Simon was so good at this. He was reading you like a book, noticing every flinch, every scrunch, every tremble that flashed across your face. He was getting to know all your sweet spots. Every piece of you that begged for more. 

Your hips bucked as his finger on your cunt slid down close to your entrance. Through the mirror, you saw him smirk, making your heart leap. “Patience. I’ll give my dove what she wants as long as she keeps looking at herself. Promise.”

Gently, he worked his fingers inside of you, feeling just how hot you really were getting for him. He suppressed his own shiver as he felt you tighten up, sucking his fingers in deeper. You clung on to his arms and moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder in pure bliss.

Grabbing your chin, he made you watch yourself get fingered. “Don’t look away.”

You had no choice but to follow your instructions. Kisses peppered your neck, making sure you didn’t have the space to turn your head away again. You watched his fingers pump in and out of you, more of your natural honey drooling out of you. 

“Ahh! Mnn~!” A loud moan escaped you as you felt his fingers curl to hit that perfect, spongy spot that drove you crazy. Your reaction was instant, your pussy tightening further and tremors traveling through every nerve. Simon could feel and see it. You were getting close to an orgasm. And he really wanted you to reach it.

“That’s it. Watch yourself cum for me, dove.” He praised, moving his fingers more powerfully to make sure you wouldn’t lose that pleasurable high. 

It was beautiful watching you moan and drool and shutter in his lap. It was so sexy how you looked at the mirror with feverish eyes like you wanted more than just his fingers. He wanted to use more too. But not before you came.

Simon put more pressure on your g-spot, not caring that you were making such a huge mess all over his hand. All he wanted to do was go deeper, so deep that his palm was pressing into your throbbing clit. 

That is what made you see stars. With a scream, you were plunged into an orgasm that made you stupid. Simon smirked with pride as he held you during your climax, feeling just how tightly you clung to his fingers. He loved that blissful expression on your face while you came. Corners of your eyes brimming with tears, blush swept across your cheeks, body glowing with excitement. 

“Didn’t I tell you? Absolutely gorgeous.” He complimented, giving you soft kisses on the side of your head as you calmed down. It was still hard to breathe, your heart beating erratically from the climax and from Simon’s husky praises. When he pulled his fingers away, you whimpered from the sensitivity.

Carefully, you were removed from his lap and laid down in front of him. While you took a moment to rest, Simon grabbed a few pillows from his bed, tossed them to the floor, and then stripped. At the sight of his strong build, you swallowed some drool. 

It was strength made to be used. Muscular and soft in all the right places. His own body was covered in old scars, something that made him alluring rather than flawed. And then when your eyes traveled down to his huge, throbbing cock, you felt that familiar tingle take over again.

“Like what you see?” He teased, situating the pillows under you so you could be more comfortable. The head of his dick prodded at your folds, lubing itself up. As he slid along your folds, rubbing your sensitive, red bud, you lost your breath again.

“Simon. . .” You called out in what you hoped sounded like a warning rather than begging. God, you wanted him inside you already. You wanted to feel every inch of him fuck you like you were the most sexy woman on the planet. 

He chuckled a little, your tone a mixture of scolding and impatience. A perfect tone that made him want to fuck you hard already. But, he held back. For now at least. Instead, he turned your head to make you look at your reflection again. Slowly, he entered you, feeling your hot pussy cling to him like it was made for him.

Your expression immediately morphed as he slid his cock inside you deeper. Eyebrows scrunched, vision hazy, plump lips bitten. He was thick. Incredibly thick. You’ve never been so filled up before. It hurt a little, but pain was quickly replaced with pleasure as you got used to it.

Simon gave a satisfied sigh when finally reached the base. It was a sight to behold, your tight pussy stretched to accommodate him. It felt so good inside you. Hot. Slick. His thrusts were slow and deep, watching every reaction you had as you felt every inch of him. It only turned him on even more as he made you watch.

His hands clutching your hips to control the pace had you tremble. You loved how he was careful, yet still wanted to manhandle you. There were moments where you could see him lose his cool for a second. A shuddered breath here, a swallowed groan there. His own expressions as he fucked you deep is what really turned you on the most.

“Fuck, dove. You’re so tight~” He exhaled, picking up the pace with his thrusts. Your toes curled and your back arched as his cock hit every pleasure point within you. It was perfect how he was large and skilled enough to reach every spot you liked. And it was all thanks to how closely he paid attention to you.

His body pressed against yours as he felt the need to be closer to you. He wanted to see your pretty face up close when you cum next. He wanted to feel those beautiful tits pressed flush against his own skin. When he felt you tighten, he knew you were getting close.

You hung onto him tight, wrapping his arms around his neck and digging your nails into his back. It was incredible feeling his muscles flex with each thrust under your hands. Everything felt so good with him. You never thought you would feel pleasure like this again. 

Simon hissed as you clawed his back, a blissful sensation that only left him wanting more. He pistoned harder, hoping that your nails would leave new scars on him. “I can feel you getting close. Look into my eyes when you do.”

Moans gradually turned into screams as he fucked you as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing hard with his own desire to climax. Hearing you scream his name was turning him on more than he thought. So much so that he began calling out yours.

Hearing your own name from his lips with such a desperate tone made the wave crash down. Looking deep into his eyes, you came around him. Every part of you trembled, electricity taking over. It felt like every cell within you was screaming for him. His breath hitched as you tightened and soaked him. And god, the way you looked while cumming. . . 

He held you tight as he felt himself climax too, hot ropes adding to the heat. Your back arched as he gave a few final pumps, milking himself out in you as much as he could. It was hard to control your shutters when he enjoyed the final moments of having you. When he did pull out, it left you feeling empty, yet satisfied. 

Knowing that you were feeling weak, Simon carried you to his bed and laid you down. You were surprised when he crawled into the spot next to you and pulled you into his chest like he was holding a lover. Was that what you two were now? Lovers?

“Like I said before, you’re perfect.” Simon praised and kissed the top of your head.

You two were definitely lovers. All the doubt cleared as you listened to his heartbeat. 

[lordprettyflackotara]

WhoGoesThere? || Eyeless Jack || Part three

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: virginity loss, praise, breeding kink, possessive kink¿ if you squint, a tiny bit of blood related to the virginity loss. this is the fluffiest smut you guys are ever gonna get from me. enjoy ;)

Jack wasn’t quite sure what to do with you.

He wasn’t even sure how humans functioned on a traditional schedule. He was used to being mostly nocturnal, not worried about water intake. He only ate when he was absolutely hungry and couldn’t stand it anymore. But he knew humans preferred a regular sleeping cycle and eating habits. So, he did what he thought was best. He sprinted to the mansion, digging into the stash of the proxies food. He returned with a clean set of clothes, ones from his personal closet. A pair of basketball shorts and hoodie wasn’t ideal, but at least you wouldn’t be tempting him by wearing that short dress.

Jack proudly stood in front of his findings, several water bottles and a box of cereal sitting on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t long before you trailed out of the bedroom, your hair tangled and makeup smudged. Your head was pounding, your body feeling sluggish. “Remind me to never drink again,” You said. Jack grabbed a bottle of water, extending it to you. “This’ll help,” He told you. You took the bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and chugging it quickly. Jack nervously glanced at the two remaining water bottles. Yeah, he should’ve accounted for your dehydration. He had forgotten how much alcohol dehydrates a traditional human system.

“So, about last night.”

Jack looked at you, watching as you went to uncomb your matted hair with your fingers.

“I was serious about what I said you know,” You continued. Jack furrowed his eyebrows unsurely. You pulled your dress down, adjusting the fallen strap on your shoulder, “I want you to take my virginity.”

Jack stood there, shifting his weight on either foot. “I’m not opposed, I just don’t quite understand why?” Jack answered. You had truly puzzled him. Why would a magnificent creature like you suggest in mating with someone like him? “Well, you’re tall, smart, and quite honestly you’re extremely attractive,” You confessed. Jack thought about your words, your compliments making his heart throb. “You don’t even know what I look like,” Jack said bluntly. No matter how much he wanted to be in between your thighs, he didn’t want to scar such a life changing event for you because of his rough exterior. Nonchalantly you grabbed the box of fruit loops, walking over to the fridge.

“I wouldn’t open that if I were you,” Jack warned. Sure, the cabin had a slim possibility of having electricity. But based on previous tenants there was no guessing how much rotten food had complied in that refrigerator. “Do you not have milk?” You asked. Jack could’ve face palmed if you weren’t standing before him. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore how embarrassed he felt. “Um no I do not. Sorry. But I got you a change of clothes,” Jack replied. He held his clothes out to you, happy that you took them. They were going to be massive on you, but they’d fit somehow and that’s all that mattered to him.

“Thank you,” You said. You immediately went to take off your dress, Jack quick to turn around. You were so relaxed around him, he couldn’t understand it. Surely you didn’t know who he was or what he was. Or all of the terrible things he had done. You didn’t deserve to lose something so precious to a monster like him. “I don’t care what you look like. I know what I want,” You declared. You slid on his hoodie and shorts, gently grabbing his shoulder to guide him to turn around. Jack sighed. He couldn’t deny that your scent was intoxicating. Nor could he deny how badly he craved to hear your voice. The mere thought of you squirming and whimpering beneath him sent him in a frenzy.

He straightened his shoulders. He could feel his stomach rumbling. If he was going to allow this to happen, he needed to be sure he ate first. Otherwise you’d become the main meal. “I’ll make you a deal. Meet me here tonight. I’ll make the bedroom inhabitable. You can have some more time to think about if this is what you truly want,” Jack offered. It also gave him time to have a full stomach before allowing himself to be in the same room as you. You nodded, eating a handful of cereal. “If you change your mind, don’t come. It won’t hurt my feelings,” Jack lied. Even if you did change your mind, he hoped you would come provide him with company.

You stood on your tippy toes, ruffling his chestnut hair, “You’re cute Jack. I’ll see you tonight.”

With those words hanging in the air you left the cabin, cereal box in hand. You left Jack in wonder, watching as you strolled back to civilization.

\/

To say Jack was nervous was an understatement. If he had participated in intercourse before it was long before his rebirth. He knew how it worked, of course. He was going to be a doctor after all, once upon a time. He knew the human body, male and female, inside and out. To prepare himself he watched lots of traditional porn, attempting to understand what made a female feel good. Unfortunately for him, Ben’s old school VHS tapes provided nothing educational nor entertaining. So instead he spent the day preparing the cabin. Thankfully due to Slenderman’s ancient ways he was able to grab many long cream colored candles.

He was displeased to discover the cabin did not have electricity, but the dim lighting provided him with a little bit of ease. Maybe his appearance wouldn’t be astoundingly off putting in a room like that. Jack ensured the bedding was clean, this time bringing toiletry items that might be suitable for a female. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, toothbrush and paste. Jane would not be happy once she discovered her secret stash of hygiene products would be tampered with. But to Jack, it was between her and robbing a gas station. That was sure to ruin his plans for the evening.

Jack showered himself, pleased that the cabin did have running water. He scrubbed every inch of his being, his stomach full. To make himself feel better he didn’t kill his last victim, he simply stole what was needed and was on his way. He brushed his teeth until his gums bled. He was trying his hardest to appear appealing, even if he was disgusted with himself everytime he looked in the mirror. The sun fell from the sky faster than Jack wanted it to. He anxiously sat in the living room, awaiting your arrival. What if you got lost? It wasn’t exactly safe to let you travel here on your own.

His leg bounced up and down, a sigh of relief escaping his lips once he heard a knock on the door. Jack sprang up from his seat, his heart thudding with nervousness. He opened the door, your doe eyes staring up at him. “Hi Jack,” You greeted softly. Jack swallowed, the faint taste of mint toothpaste still prominent on his tongue. “Hi. Um, come in,” He gestured awkwardly. He led you to the bedroom, unsurely stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket. Why was this so difficult? He pushed open the door, the dozens of candles softly illuminating the room. You stared at the gesture in awe, giving him a soft smile. You walked over to the bed, sitting on the side.

“Come here Jack,” You instructed. Jack was completely at your disposal. You had meant for him to sit beside you, the demon instead lowering himself to his knees in front of you. “You need to see what I look like before we do this. I need you to be sure,” Jack choked out. You opened your legs, your feet planted on either side Jacks nervous body. “You’re practically shaking Jack. Relax,” You whispered. You slowly pulled down his hood, the demon gulping as you gently pushed the mask upwards. His lips and nose looked normal to you, your heart picking up the pace once you took the mask all of the way off. You and Jack stared back at each other. Black ooze dripped down his eye sockets, empty holes replacing where his eyes should’ve been. Jack stared right back at you, his face full of visible nervousness and anticipation.

He blinked, studying your face. You said nothing, your face empty of an expression. He could hear your heart racing, a sure sign you found him revolting. Jacks breath hitched as you brushed some of his hair away from his forehead. Your fingertips were gentle against his ash gray skin. Slowly and unsurely you cupped Jacks cheek into your hand, studying him. You touched him as if he were made of glass. You felt tongue tied, the thoughts running through your head far from appropriate. “This is why they call you EJ?” You guessed. Jack nodded shyly, his cheeks flushing with heat. This was a terrible idea. This was beyond stupid. It was then you lifted his chin, bringing your lips to his.

Jacks breath hitched as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. He kissed you back, your lips warm and soft against his. “You are the most enchanting creature i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And if i’m being blunt, I want you to fuck me now,” You whispered. Jack was on you in an instant, climbing on top of the bed. He tried to contain himself, his lips moving against yours quickly and desperately. “I have to warn you. I can be a bit.. rough. It’s my nature,” Jack panted. He was hovering above you, staring down at the angelic sight that was you beneath him. “Well since we’re giving warnings, i’ve never done anything beyond making out,” You confessed. Jack was sure his cheeks were scarlett red. He could tell you felt just as flushed, a pink tint visible on your cheeks.

“You’ve never um, played with yourself?” Jack asked. You shook your head. “I’ve um, tried it’s just never felt right. If that makes sense,” You answered honestly. Jack nodded, leaning back and shoving his hoodie over his shoulders. He tossed it aside. You were so small beneath him. Was this safe? Was this ethical? His mind rattled with questions, before he finally leaned back down over you. “Just tell me what feels good, alright? Are you sure about this?” Jack asked again. He searched your face for any sign of hesitation, surprised to see he found none.

“Jack, please.”

Your plea ignited a small inside of him, his hands roaming your body. They grabbed the hem of your shirt, tossing it over your body and side. He reattached his lips to yours, his lips moving desperately as he squeezed your flesh teasingly. His large hands landed on your breast, tenderly groping them. A small groan escaped your lips, his eager ones swallowing it whole. He strayed away from your lips, tenderly pressing kisses down the side of your face to your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, your heart racing even faster as he kissed down your chest. He stopped at your chest. “Lean forward for me,” Jack murmured. You sat up, allowing him to unclasp your bra and toss it aside.

He swallowed as he lowered himself to your exposed breath, taking your left nipple into his mouth. He was pleasantly surprised to hear your whimpers, one of your hands embedding itself in his hair. You tugged at his locs, quite embarrassed at the noises you were making. “Fuck, Jack,” You whined. He released your nipple with a pop, the sensitive bud hardening under the cool night air. He took it between his fingers, attaching his mouth to your right one. You were squirming underneath him, your hips involuntarily bucking upwards. Teasingly he grazed your nipple with his sharp teeth, a jagged moan escaping your throat. He released it with a pop, giving you a cocky smirk. “That feel good?” He asked. You nodded profusely, looking at him.

His cock was throbbing in his pants, his outline visible to you even with the dim lighting. “How i-is that gonna fit?” You stumbled out. Jack was already massive in comparison to you. And that didn’t include factoring in the size of his cock. “I’ll make it fit. Just need to loosen you up first,” Jack cooed. He laced his fingers with the hem of your skirt and panties, pulling them downwards. He guided you to spread your legs, your eyes screwed shut in embarrassment. “Such a pretty pussy,” Jack praised. He lowered himself in between your thighs, running a finger up and down your slick. “And so wet. All for me?” Jack purred. His large hands kept your thighs pried apart, a sly grin spreading across his lips. Jack had never thought much of having three tongues. He never saw a use for them. Nor did he have any idea what to do with them, until Ben made a few crude jokes.

Looking back he was disgusted, but now as your core throbbed to be touched, he’d have to remember to thank Ben for the idea. He used the first one to lick up your folds, your hands immediately reattaching themselves to his hair. Teasingly he brought the second one to your entrance, slowly pushing it inside. He felt your thighs shudder for a moment, your walls spasming around his tongue. He used the first one to toy with your clit, flicking the bud as quickly as possible. He listened to your body intently, allowing you to adjust before curling his tongue upwards. Your hips lifted off of the bed, his firm hands securing you into place. “Fucking, fuck!” You moaned. You threw your head back, Jack groaning into your cunt as he pushed in his second tongue.

He used the two to curl upwards, brushing against your g spot. Your thighs attempted to squeezed around his head, an unfamiliar knot forming in your stomach. Jack’s tongues were relentless, prodding and toying with you as he pleased. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, your arousal sending him into a frenzy. The sinful noises that left your lips bounced off of the cabin walls, your thighs beginning to tremble. “Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum, Jack please make me cum, Jack!” You groaned, creaming around his tongues. Your juices tasted divine, the demon eagerly lapping at your slick. He slowly emerged from your thighs, his lips and chin covered in your juices. He was quite comfortable in between your thighs and he did not anticipate on going anywhere. Slowly he brought his thick fingers to your entrance, shoving two inside of you.

You whined in pain, grabbing at his wrist. He leaned forward, bringing himself close to your ear. “Shhh it’s okay. You can do it. Such a good girl,” He praised. His breath was hot against your skin, his thumb beginning to circle your overstimulated clit. You swallowed, pulling him closer. His fingers repeated the same action, brushing upwards on your g spot. He began to do a scissoring motion, stretching you out as much as possible. Your painful whimpers turned into loud moans. “Thats it. Look at you, taking my fingers so well,” Jack purred. You grabbed onto his wrist, your other hand gripping a handful of the sheets. “Awe what’s this? Do you want me to stop?” Jack teased.

You were a babbling mess. “N-no just need to hang o-on to something,” You rambled, stumbling over each word. Jack could hear your heart pounding, the sound music to his ears. His fingers were relentless as he finger fucked you, satisfied with you withering below him. “Awe is someone close for me? You wanna be a good girl and cum for me?” Jack asked. You propped yourself up on your elbows, meeting his gaze. “Wanna b-be good. Wanna cum,” You say. Jack leaned forward, cupping your face with his other hand. “Open your mouth,” He grunted. You did as instructed, his thumb entering your mouth. You immediately sucked it the best you could, the feeling only making Jack harder.

“Oh you dirty girl. Cum for me. Cum for me all over my fucking fingers,” Jack growled. You were in a trance, your legs shaking as you came all over his fingers. Your tongue swirled around his tongue, a sigh escaping your lips as he removed his fingers from your cunt. Jack began to fiddle with his belt, removing his thumb from your mouth. “Are you sure about this?” Jack asked again. His cock sprang out from his boxers, his shaft much longer than you had ever seen in porn before. “Jack… please,” You whispered. Jack couldn’t deny you any longer, his own primal urges overshadowing any reservations he might’ve had. He leaned forward, lacing his fingers with yours. With the other hand he brushed his tip up and down your slick, trying to gather as much lubrication as possible. His gaze met yours. “Are you ready?” Jack asked you. You babbled in agreement, squeezing his hand.

Jack buried himself in the crook of your neck, slowly shoving himself inside of you. You whined in pain, your walls squeezing his cock so tight he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to go further. “It’s okay. I got you. It’s alright,” Jack cooed in your ear. He pressed kisses against your neck, slowly sinking in further. It was then Jack could smell the faintest scent of blood, causing him to look down. A thin ring of the crimson paint covered his cock, his shaft not all the way in yet. Jack slithered his spare hand to your clit, rubbing slow and purposeful circles around the bud. He could feel your body start to relax. “You’re doing so good for me,” He mumbled into your skin. It wasn’t long before he was able to fully bottom out.

You both were panting, the gears in Jacks head turning. He had never fucked anyone or anything since he had became a demon. He had never allowed himself to give in to the hormonal urges. Yet, as he was balls deep into your cunt, it was like a switch in him flicked. Unintentionally Jack was rough with everything he handled. He knew he had to be careful with you, but his mind was screaming at him to give in. He slowly began to move, grunting into your neck. Your painful whines turned into pleasurable groans the more he moved, your sounds giving him more motivation. The more he fucked you, the more his body demanded to breed you. It demanded for him to deem you as his mate.

He leaned back, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. Jack was fucking you as deeply as he could, your mewls sending waves of satisfaction over him. “Such a good little thing. Taking me like this,” He panted. His cock abused your cunt as he pleased, your legs beginning to shake. “You’re fucking milking me. It’s like you’re begging me to cum inside of you,” Jack groaned. He could feel your gushy walls fluttering around him, causing him to smirk. “Oh I see. You’d like that wouldn’t you? To carry my little demon spawn?” He chuckled darkly. You were a babbling mess, your body’s reaction telling him everything he needed to know.

“Never would’ve taken you for the type into breeding,” Jack muttered to himself. He continued to snap his hips into yours, holding your legs proudly over his shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress. “This cunt is mine, do you understand? Ryan doesnt matter. He can fuck you all he wants but you’ll always be thinking of me, won’t you?” Jack rambled. His possessiveness was making a grand appearance, the demon having a hard time keeping it together. You babbled an agreement, your mouth hanging open as he slammed into you. “Be a good little girl for me and cum on my cock. Go on,” Jack huffed. With another circle from his fingers your body shook under his, creaming on the demons cock. Your heart was racing so loudly it was all Jack could hear, the sound sending him over the edge.

He panted as he set your legs down, his seed down deep and buried into your womb. You were spent, your vision hazy and body exhausted. Jack slowly pulled out of you, watching your body tremble slightly. You were in no state to take care of yourself, the demon picking you up instinctively. He walked you over to the bathroom, guiding you to stand on the cold marble floor. “You need to pee,” He ordered. You raised your eyebrows, your face going with an afterglow. “Thats the last thing I expected you to say to me after that,” You chuckled. Jack raised his eyebrows, “What? It’s necessary to prevent future issues.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. You gently shoved him towards the door. “Get out so I can pee,” You say. He stood in the hallway, allowing you to shut the door for some privacy. Why you were insistent upon privacy to urinate after he had just fucked you senseless, Jack didn’t know. But what he did know, was that he wanted to fuck you again and again and again.

[chelseeebe]

‘til the world caves in: something in the orange

mdni 18+. smut. exfamous!steve x female reader. zombie apocalypse au! mentions of guns and violence throughout. no use of y/n!

a/n: this is my new iteration of the apocalypse au! i dabbled with it before but actually rlly like this one, matter of fact, most of the chapters are written already lmfao:) the famous part rlly is just there for this oneee specific scene i had in mind for a later part but it’s something different i guess

nobody cares who you are in the apocalypse. well, maybe except for you.

life before the outbreak had been weird enough for steve, his band had just started their rise to fame when all this shit went down.

it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be at 19 but money and fame weren’t anything he was gonna say no to.

and then news broke that people had started eating each other’s faces and now he was no longer this up and coming star, rather just some guy trying to stay alive with some girl he’d met fleeing new york.

six years was more than enough time for them to become best friends, travelling through various camps and groups of people before they ended up somewhere in the middle of indiana.

steve’s never been here before and he wishes he wasn’t here now.

there’s nothing for miles and now robin’s leg is fucked, he thinks it might be the end.

the buttfuck town of hawkins indiana would be their demise.

they’d collapsed on the fence of some building, too dehydrated and tired to care. accepting a certain death as robin cries softly next to him, their fingers entwined as death awaits.

they were pretty delirious when they were picked up by some group. a tall man with a thick moustache and a lady with a sweet voice, helping them across town to their compound.

he’s not entirely sure what had happened when they’d arrived, he’d been bustled into a room and remembers collapsing on the bed with a pounding in his head before blacking out.

-

turns out he was out for days, waking up in the dark confines of a tiny box room with nothing else around him. admittedly, the lack of robin in his immediate vicinity scared the shit out of him.

all he can remember is that her leg was infected and her head was starting to hurt which was never a good sign.

a small, curly haired lady bursts into the room, startled to see him standing, “oh! you’re awake! great,” she smiles.

“where am i?” he asks, like a petrified child.

“you’re in hawkins,” she nods, “you were in a pretty bad state when we found you.”

nothing had ever felt so befuddling, jolting him back into survival mode as he realises his bag was nowhere to be found.

“where’s robin? we need to.. we have to go,” steve rushes, fearing the worst.

“she’s good, i think she was in the cafeteria.. we can go and get some food if you’d like?” the kind lady offers, pity in her eyes.

he nods, sceptical as he follows her out of the room and through the massive doors. there’s laughter from the other side, amazed at the sight of the light bulbs glowing white. electricity. nothing like the candles and flashlights they’d been using for years.

robin jumps up from the table the second he walks through, hobbling over with a few grunts and groans.

“you’re awake! oh my god steve, i’ve been so worried,” she frets, throwing her arms around his neck, trying to ignore the stares from the strangers in the room.

“you’re okay? i thought..” he exhales, not wanting to finish his sentence. “i don’t know.. fuck,” now robin was here and alive and in his arms, the overwhelming feeling of ten people gawping at him sinks in.

there’s nothing familiar about this place, it’s nothing like the places they’d stayed in, it feels like before.

“come get some food,” robin ushers, placing her hand on his back and very slowly walking to the table, “it’s nice here,” she leans in to whisper, “everyone’s super nice, they even have electricity!” she marvels, helping him to the empty seat.

she pushes her plate towards him, beans and some sort of meat. he hadn’t had a substantial meal in what felt like months, living off of foraged cans and jerky.

the crowd seems to back off at this point, leaving him and robin to eat. to try and digest this place despite feeling like he was in some crazy dream.

“we found some stragglers, out at the old school,” he hears a voice from behind, talking about himself and robin, “they were in pretty bad shape.”

steve doesn’t look around, continuing to eat his portion of robin’s dinner instead.

turns out he didn’t have to, as you arrive at his table, shotgun still strapped to your back and a thick layer of dirt all over your face.

“you the new guys?” you ask, looking between him and robin.

“yeah,” answering for the both of them, “robin,” extending her hand to meet yours.

you shake it, with a small, wary smile before turning your attention to steve, eyes narrowed as if you’re trying to place him.

“i remember you,” smiling with the side of your mouth, sizing him up. “steve harrington,” saying his name with such conviction, “newest member of in motion, weren’t you?”

he’s surprised that anyone would even care to remember him or the shitty boy band he was coerced into, “i mean, i was.. doesn’t really matter now though, right?”

you hum and he’s not sure whether it’s positive or not, “i used to be a fan,” steve couldn’t fathom someone like you ever being a fan of the shitty corporate pop he used to make. “maybe you can perform for us some day.”

it’s the first time in years that anyone has recognised him from before. unsure of how it makes him feel.

-

steve had presumed that he and robin were doing pretty well, they were alive weren’t they?

he’d found out that actually, neither of the two knew a single thing about proper, adequate survival skills and had gotten by with some grace of god.

he could shoot a gun, at least he thought he could. they typically just aimed and shot and hoped for the best rather than all of this.

you kick his feet further apart, barking shoulder width into his ear for the umpteenth time. it’s pretty hard to focus when you’re standing right behind him with your soft lips brushing against his ear every few seconds.

robin takes to it like a duck on water, keeping her arms straight and the gun in line with her eye. how the fuck does she know all of this shit?

steve fires and subsequently misses the makeshift target, cursing under his breath with a nasty side eye to robin who hits it straight in the drawn on face.

“steve,” you warn, walking over to him with a slight frown, “keep it steady, that kick back is no joke.”

he pulls a face, realigning the gun to his eye and tries again.

missing the target entirely this time.

“okay,” you sigh, the feel of your arms wrapping around his startle him for a second before the rest of your body presses against his back.

oh god.

it’d look pretty weird if he popped a boner while on shooting practice, he thinks.

it’s not as if human contact is a thing he encounters regularly, how was his body supposed to know the difference?

your chin rests on his shoulder, peering over at the target, hands coming to sit atop of his sweaty ones as you aim for him.

“that good?” you ask, breath tickling his ear.

it felt good, felt very good actually. your chest flat against his back, his breathing falling into to time with yours.

“ye- yup,” he flutters, almost choking on the words.

steve get it together.

“so go,” you order.

his finger presses the trigger, the bullet flies through the target, straight between the eyes.

“there you go!” you celebrate, the warmth of your body on his disappearing as you come to join him at his side.

he and robin share a look, robin’s smirk was unmistakable, steve knew what she was thinking, somehow he always did.

“go again, just you this time,” nodding with encouragement.

his thoughts are jumbled, preoccupied with the want for you to touch him again. just this time, maybe somewhere more private.

but he does it. the painted on silhouette is hit straight through the forehead, garnering a whoop from robin.

“you’re getting the hang of it,” you smile, fingers brushing over his as you take the gun from his hand. it makes him shiver, electricity pulsing between you. “don’t worry, we can come back out here another day,” sharing a look that lingers just a little too long.

you collect robin’s gun and announce something about lunch but steve can’t focus, still attempting to collect himself from a puddle on the floor.

“man, if you don’t get in there, i’m going to,” robin quips, slapping him quite harshly on the back.

“fuck off,” he hits back, trying to shake the loud, intrusive voice in the background of his mind.

there wasn’t much time for love and relationships while he had to fight the undead. a small part of him wonders if maybe now it’s possible, in here, with you.

okay, he’s definitely getting ahead of himself.

-

you don’t help steve’s delusions when you join him and robin at their table for breakfast, making sure to slide into the seat directly opposite just so he can try not to choke on his food.

“you guys settling in okay?” you ask, not really looking at robin at all, eyes glued to his.

“y-yeah, it’s nice here,” he sputters, trying to focus on the bowl of porridge in front of him.

“good,” you smile, sickeningly sweet.

robin’s foot swiftly connects with his leg, coughing on his mouthful as he returns the favour. he knows what she’s getting at, he’d divulged his fantasies to her a couple nights ago.

they’d been allocated separate rooms but hadn’t dared to separate yet, holing up in steve’s bed as they got used to this place.

you look up again, as if you want to ask something, “i think uh.. a few of the kids found out you were in a band and they wanted to know if you’d sing for them at some point?”

steve narrows his eyes, not forgetting that you’d already revealed yourself as a fan, “they asked?” quirking his brow.

your lips pucker, jabbing at your food in an attempt to hide, “well..” looking up at him through spindly lashes, “maybe not just them.”

he feels this intangible sensation in his chest, a burning that aches his insides.

“okay,” he smiles, managing to keep it down, “i’ll sing for y- them,” hoping no one pulls him on his freudian slip, cheeks burning scarlet.

your eyes light up, the whole world encapsulated within your iris’, a sight he already dreamed of.

he feels like a teenager again, wondering if the pretty girl on the other side of the table liked him back.

-

“ready?” you nod, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

steve’s been anxiously awaiting his first shift on watch, scared about the prospect of accidentally fucking up and someone dying or something like that.

so for his first shift, he’d been graciously paired with you on the back wall. he’s been told there’s never much action there, usually a few stray infected but nothing too serious.

it doesn’t help that you’re in some ridiculously skimpy vest with the tightest pants he’s seen. there’s not a chance in hell that he’ll be able to keep his mind focused.

the pair of you stroll over to the wall, climbing the rusty old tower and relieving argyle and will from their positions.

grateful that you were given the evening shift as the hot july sun is setting and the breeze is beginning to kick in.

you immediately slump into the camp chair, slinging your bag from your back and kicking your heavy boots off, clunking against the metal as they land.

“so.. now we just sit here?” steve asks, cocking a brow at your relaxed disposition.

“yup,” nodding along as you squint up at him. “back wall’s never too exciting, i bet we don’t see a soul.”

“yeah.. okay,” he nods too, taking a seat in the adjacent camp chair, praying for a quiet night.

time ticks on for what must be hours, the courtyard had gone quiet and all he can really hear is your gentle breaths and a cricket somewhere in the long grass.

it must be gone 2am by now and you’d not seen a single thing, not even any infected.

steve can feel your eyes on him, not daring to look over until you start speaking.

“bored yet?”

he shakes his head, he wasn’t. this was pretty exhilarating if he was honest. every time you spoke to him, his heart rate seemed to soar.

“no, no this is nice.”

“the quiet?” you question, tilting your head to the side.

“yeah.. i feel like i haven’t really stopped since we got here.”

there’d been copious amounts of training and the like since he had properly recovered. nancy had shown him how to tie and set up traps. dustin had attempted to explain how you guys had power, though he couldn’t really grasp it.

and you, you had shown him how to shoot and fight and how to use a knife correctly rather than just flailing it around and hoping for the best.

“you’re not a bad watch partner, some of them are so annoying,” rolling your eyes in jest, snickering quietly.

steve smiles, genuinely. he hadn’t really experienced anyone other than robin’s company for a long time and while he loved her to death, it was nice to speak to someone else.

“you’re not too bad yourself,” shying away after his pathetic attempt at flirting.

there had been a fair amount of consideration and a perhaps a little bit of delusion but he had dwelled on it and came to the conclusion that he really liked you.

probably more than he should do at this point.

you pout your lips, considering something before starting, “you know.. there’s something else we could do to pass the time..”

he stares, befuddled for a moment until the glint in your eye makes it all click.

“oh,” is all that comes out of his suddenly very dry mouth.

there’s a flash of hurt and maybe embarrassment on your face, “or not.. i mean- i was just.. forget it,” squeezing your eyes shut as your palm hits your forehead.

“no! god no! i didn’t think you’d want to.. y’know, here..” terrified that he had screwed up his one chance.

not only would he have to leave hawkins, he’d probably have to curl up and die somewhere out of sheer embarrassment and regret.

“i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t want to,” you shrug, uncurling from your blushing state.

steve almost falls from the rickety chair, “of course i do.. is it a good idea?” motioning over the wall somewhere, “with the watch and stuff..” eager to not disappoint the rest of his new group mates.

“we haven’t seen a thing all night.. we’re not being relieved for another few hours.”

“i don’t.. i don’t think i’ll need a few hours,” hell, ten minutes would be fairly optimistic.

a smirk nudges at your lips, standing from your chair to perch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as you take one last quick peek around.

“you’re sure?” you ask, as if he wasn’t gazing up at you like some pathetic puppy dog right now.

“so sure,” nodding enthusiastically. hesitant to touch you until you smile down at him, egging him on.

“get on the floor,” you instruct, still leering over the metal barriers, “just in case.”

he does as he’s told, sitting back against the wall with a lopsided grin as his heart rate increases tenfold.

it’d been years since he’d had sex. he supposes there was that one girl at the third or fourth camp they were in but she was pretty weird and a little obsessive. it only happened once and then he couldn’t bring himself to do it again.

but you’re smiling now, resting on his thighs and he thinks his heart might give out. there’s no certainty that he’ll even be able to last long enough for you to get any enjoyment from it but he’s willing to try.

a moment passes, eyes locked as you lean down, pressing a gentle yet excited kiss to his lips, it’s more human contact than he’s had in years.

you waste no time, fumbling with the button on his pants, sighing as you pop the button, waiting for him to return the honour.

steve lifts both of your bodies, barely kicking his jeans off before you sit back down, his fingers tingling with pure excitement as they unbutton your pants.

they end up somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes, focusing your attention back on his lips, carelessly connecting your lips.

your hips rock back and forth, sending a deep grumble from his throat to yours as his dick twitches in his boxers. he might as well not even bother to actually have sex, he was about to cum right then and there.

it’s made worse when your middle and index finger slide into the waistband of his boxers, struggling to stay afloat as you tug the material down just under his balls, cock springing up the second it’s freed.

you position your hands on his shoulders, looking down at him with wet lips, the only sounds are the crickets watching this degeneracy.

your hands find their place on his shoulders, holding yourself up while his fist finds his cock, lining himself up with your entrance, heart rate skyrocketing as you gasp above him.

his fingernails graze your skin, leaving indentations in the soft flesh, unable to contain the husky groan that escapes his lips.

your palm slaps over his mouth immediately, eyes wide as your hips rock, “you have to be quiet,” you hush though the smirk tugging at your lips tells him you’re not angry.

steve feels electric, pulsing through his veins with every slight movement you make, garbling into your palm when your pace quickens.

bouncing on his cock, making the entire structure creak and wobble.

he realises now that it’s silent, how obvious the sounds of sex are, skin slapping against skin as you squeak and grunt alongside it.

you’re insane, keeping your hand firmly over his mouth as you use his shoulder for leverage, rolling your hips and squeezing around him.

he’s about ready to cum already, there’s no surprise there. but he’s trying his hardest to hold out, to let you get something from this before he blows his load.

clinging on to your hips for dear life as they roll, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks while he turns to utter mush behind your hand.

“oh shit,” you whine, clit nudging against his pubic bone, louder than he could ever be.

that’s it, hearing you whine sends his stomach lurching, with barely enough time to life your body from his lap before he explodes.

hips stuttering into the air as you watch with bated breath, still covering his mouth as a series of expletives tumble out, muffled and breathless.

steve’s never felt so embarrassed and yet so good all at once, the back of his head thwacking against the metal panel as he floats back to earth.

you rest atop of his thighs, nibbling on the skin of your bottom lip. there’s a silence that makes him want to crawl up the side of the barrier and let infected rip him apart.

he wants to apologise for his premature ejaculation, a little ashamed that he couldn’t prove himself to you but before he can conjure up the appropriate apology, your finger tilts his chin upwards, to meet your eyes.

you stifle it for a minute before bursting into a fit of giggles, “it’s okay.. maybe next time.”

albeit a very vague promise of a next time, steve starts to beam, still catching his breath as you shuffle off of his thighs, pulling your panties on as you lay back on the floor, gesturing for him to join you.

dawn breaks around the two of you, the birds rising to sing their song as you lay on the uncomfortable metal grates next to him.

it’s so serene, a picturesque view peeking from outside the little hut.

this is a feeling steve had thought he may never experience again, content with his life despite the rest of the world crumbling outside of the walls.

it’s something in the orange hue, an aching feeling that he owes to blind optimism. a spark of hope, remnants of a fear to lose anyone else.

to lose you.

your tongue pokes from the side of your lips, sighing softly, “there’s something i have to tell you.”

he turns, watching your face fall. apprehensively awaiting the harsh truth you were about to unleash.

“go on..”

this time you sigh loudly, exhausting the air from your lungs, “my ex.. lives here too. he’s out on a run to fort wayne at the moment but, they’re due back anytime now and i just need to pre-warn you that he’ll probably be a bit of an ass when he finds out.”

relief washes through his body. was that it?

crazy psycho exes weren’t something new to steve, albeit a long time since he’s had to even think about anything like that, but he doesn’t care.

“oh my god,” he exhales, “you scared me.. i thought you were ‘bout to say something crazy,” chuckling at his preemptive fear.

you whack his arm, “i’m being serious,” turning your head to glare at him, “he’s not.. the nicest person and he definitely won’t be nice about this.”

“what’s wrong with him?” steve asks, genuinely. they’d crossed paths with a lot of fucked up people in the six years since this had started but he had never believed that anyone truly bad could live somewhere as nice as this.

those places always seemed to crumble, he’d seen it enough times to know. people had taken the apocalypse as a means to become awful people, dictating the lives of everyone around them as if you weren’t all trying to do one thing.

survive.

you sigh, scrunching your nose, “he and his uncle have been here from the start of it all, helped build this place to what it is now. but his uncle, wayne, left a year back.. went to try and find his brother, eddie’s dad.. and now eddie’s just eternally pissed off about it.”

steve contemplates your words, knowing he’d probably also be incredibly infuriated too. family, real blood family, was a rarity nowadays. most people had lost most, if not all of any semblance of family by now. he was astounded to arrive here and find real family, joyce had her sons, nancy had mike, even lucas had his sister.

“oh.. that’s.. it’s understandable, i guess,” not quite finding the right words.

you nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. you’re holding something back, steve’s not sure what and he’s certainly not going to ask now. unwilling to ruin the moment.

“why’d you guys break up?” considering if he’d like to get in the middle of some complicated, messy situation.

for you? definitely.

“i dunno.. he was just so angry, he let it consume him,” a certain twinge of sadness to your tone.

“and he took it out on you?”

you scoff a little, “me and everyone else.. look, does it help if i say that he probably won’t shoot you?”

steve hums, “not really.”

that does it, brings your smile back as you crack up shaking hysterically as you turn back to the sky.

“i still think you should sing for us all,” changing the subject completely.

steve groans, wiping the layer of sweat from his forehead. before all this, he would’ve said that he preferred summer but now that there were corpses roaming the streets, he definitely favoured winter. that stench is something he’ll never forget, rotting flesh and hot july sun were not a good mix.

“didn’t i already agree to sing for the kids?” he teases.

you’re interrupted from any further begging as nancy’s voice rings out from below, “hey guys? you there?” worry embedded into her voice.

“shit,” you hiss, shooting up as you grab your pants. “sorry.. sorry,” apologising for your lack of clothing and the accidental fright you’d given them.

“oh wow okay,” nancy bites from down below, laughing her head off, jonathan covers his eyes to give you a little privacy as you pull your jeans on, “how’d i know that you two were gonna fuck this up?”

“yeah yeah, shut up,” you rush, cheeks burning as you jump into your clothes.

steve shuffles over sliding his pants back on as he turns beetroot red, not only was this his first shift, it was also the first time he was showing everyone that he was a capable person to keep around. he’s not so sure they’ll agree now.

nancy and jonathan climb up the ladder, a bemused expression shared across their faces, “quiet night?” nancy asks, cocking her head to the side.

“something like that,” shrugging off her quick remarks as you grab your backpack and shove steve’s into his chest.

the two stand there gawping as steve flushes, stepping into his sneakers and attempts to hurriedly brush his hair into place. he wants to be embarrassed, really, but he’s still riding the high of you even kissing him.

“see anything interesting?” nancy bites, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“nope.”

“mhm i bet,” she smirks, her lips pursed as you shuffle past her, ignoring the smug look on her face as you climb down the ladder.

steve gives them both a little wave, still trying to hide his reddened cheeks as he follows you down from the perch.

you’re waiting for him at the bottom, tugging him away as the pair watch from above. it takes everything in him not to turn around and smile.

“y’wanna shower?” you ask, breaking the silence as you enter the building.

he damn near jumps into the air, clicking his heels together, suppressing his excitement with a simple nod, bounding along behind as you pull him along the corridor.

he’d take any shift if it meant ending up with you.

[chokememaximoff]

Fainted into your arms

Wanda Maximoff x reader

Abstract: As Y/N navigates the demands of college and her family responsibilities, she forms a deep and unexpected connection with Wanda Maximoff

TW: none

Y/N Y/L/N's life had become a whirlwind of responsibilities. Her days were a relentless cycle of attending veterinary classes, completing clinical rotations, and serving coffee at the cafe until the early morning hours. Sleep had become a luxury she couldn't afford. But beyond her studies and work, she shouldered the weight of her family's needs. Her hometown visits meant taking care of her niece and her ailing mother, who required constant attention. Yet, Y/N somehow found the strength to study amidst the chaos.

As the finals loomed closer, spring swept in, bringing with it warmer days that only added to her exhaustion. One evening, on her way back home from the cafe, Y/N felt a wave of dizziness hit her. She stumbled and clutched onto a nearby tree for support, her body aching, her stomach churning. The combination of exhaustion, hunger, and dehydration had finally taken its toll.

Out of nowhere, a voice cut through the haze, "Are you okay, darling?" Startled, Y/N turned to see a striking older woman standing there. Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, the woman exuded an air of elegance that left Y/N momentarily breathless. Concern etched on her face, the woman's presence was both comforting and bewildering.

Trying to steady herself, Y/N managed to stammer, "I'm... I'm okay, just... exhausted." But as the woman spoke, a sudden ringing overwhelmed her senses. She strained to hear, but the sound grew deafening, and darkness swallowed her whole.

When consciousness returned, Y/N was met with a throbbing headache. As she gingerly sat up, she realized a cold cloth had been placed on her forehead. Blinking, she looked around, disoriented by the opulent surroundings. Confusion gnawed at her, and an involuntary "What the fuck..." escaped her lips.

Footsteps approached, and the older woman entered the room, holding a tray of food that looked incredibly tempting. Warmth radiated from her smile as she noticed Y/N awake. Settling into a chair across from Y/N, she asked with genuine concern, "How are you feeling?"

Managing a weak chuckle, Y/N admitted, "Honestly, like shit." The woman's laughter danced in response. "You had me quite worried. Fainting into my arms was a bit unexpected. I brought you here so you could rest," she explained, her eyes conveying kindness.

A mixture of embarrassment and gratitude washed over Y/N. "Thank you. I... I appreciate it," she murmured, her cheeks flushing slightly. When the woman's hand landed on her knee, an electric current seemed to surge through Y/N, leaving her both surprised and intrigued. She attempted to shake off the sensation, not quite understanding it.

"You must have pushed yourself too hard," the woman, Wanda Maximoff, offered softly. Y/N nodded, feeling a strange connection forming between them. Despite the circumstances, a comfortable silence settled as they exchanged glances, understanding passing between them.

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N," Y/N finally introduced herself, extending her hand. Wanda's grip was warm and reassuring, and as their fingers touched, an undeniable spark coursed through Y/N. "Wanda Maximoff," the woman replied, her voice carrying a richness that resonated deep within Y/N.

...

Y/N savored each bite of the delicious food Wanda had prepared. The flavors danced on her taste buds, and she couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan. "This is the best food I've had all week!" she exclaimed, looking at Wanda with genuine appreciation.

Wanda's cheeks tinted with a faint blush. "Oh, it's nothing really. I just quickly put it together for you," she replied modestly.

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. "Trust me, this is like Gordon Ramsay-level stuff. It's a huge shift after the cafeteria food... not that I eat that very much either. Most days, I forget to eat anything at all."

A shadow of concern flickered across Wanda's face. "That's not good, honey. You should take better care of yourself."

Y/N blushed at the endearing term of address. She looked down, a bit bashful. "I know, but there's so much on my plate. I don't want to burden you with my problems. Besides, you've already done so much by bringing me here."

Leaning in with a playful glint in her eyes, Wanda asked, "Now you've intrigued me. What caused you to faint dramatically into my arms?"

Y/N let out a sigh and began to open up, sharing the overwhelming challenges she faced daily. Wanda's concern was palpable as she listened intently to Y/N's story.

"Honey," Wanda said softly when Y/N finished, "you need to consider dropping that job. You're already managing so much."

Y/N arched an eyebrow skeptically. "And how am I supposed to pay for my dorm then?"

Wanda hesitated, a thoughtful look crossing her face. But then she changed the subject, asking if Y/N wanted a drink. Y/N, feeling flustered, declined, mumbling about overstaying her welcome.

Wanda shook her head, a warm smile on her lips. "You're not overstaying. You're welcome to stay, even overnight if you'd like."

Standing up, Y/N felt a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. "I appreciate that, but I wouldn't want to cause any trouble if someone else comes over."

Wanda chuckled softly. "I don't have a partner to worry about, whether husband or wife. Being 34 doesn't mean I have to be married, right, darling?"

Y/N's cheeks flushed as she stammered, "I didn't mean it like that." The proximity of Wanda's hand on her arm sent a shiver down her spine, igniting a spark of connection she couldn't ignore.

Leaning in even closer, Wanda's voice dropped. "And who said anything about marriage? I like to keep my options open."

Before Y/N could react, Wanda had retrieved her car keys. "Well, whether you're staying or not, I'll at least drive you to your dorm."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but the stern determination in Wanda's gaze silenced her. They walked down to Wanda's sleek Dodge Hellcat, chatting amiably during the drive. As they pulled up to Y/N's dorm, Wanda smiled warmly.

"Would you mind if I had your number?" Wanda inquired, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

Y/N's blush deepened, but she nodded. Wanda handed her the phone, and Y/N typed in her number. Wanda saved the contact, and then she exited the car, opening the door for Y/N.

"Thank you," Y/N said, her voice a bit shaky as she stepped out.

Wanda's tone was affectionate as she said, "Take care of yourself, okay?" Then, in a surprising move, Wanda leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Y/N's cheek.

"Bye, Y/N," Wanda said with a grin, before driving away, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart racing and her mind reeling from the unexpected whirlwind of emotions and connections that had unfolded between them.

...

As Y/N stepped into the dorm room, her roommate Kate Bishop sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes. "Where have you been?" Kate asked, her voice half-awake yet curious.

Y/N winced sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. I felt weak, so I stopped."

Kate raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And then what happened? You woke me up by entering the room like you were being chased by a ghost."

A flush spread across Y/N's cheeks as she recounted the story. "Well, this incredibly hot 34-year-old woman came up to me and asked if I was okay. I, uh, totally embarrassed myself by fainting into her arms."

Kate's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait, what? You fainted into the arms of a hot woman? Damn, Y/N, that's one way to make an impression."

Y/N rolled her eyes, flustered. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. She was really nice though. She even offered for me to stay over at her place, but I was too... flustered to accept. I gave her my number instead."

Kate chuckled, leaning back against her pillows. "Sounds like you've had quite the night. Maybe you'll actually get some rest now."

Y/N sighed, dropping dramatically onto her bed. Just as she was about to say something, her phone dinged with a message. She practically leaped off her bed to grab it, excitement bubbling within her.

Kate observed the scene with amusement. "Wow, you're like a kid on Christmas morning."

Y/N's face lit up as she read the message from the unknown number. "Hope you're getting rest, darling."

In her excitement, Y/N threw her phone at Kate, who caught it with a bemused expression. "Okay, what's got you this excited?" Kate asked.

Y/N bounced up and down, a wide grin on her face. "It's her! It's a message from Wanda! She actually texted me!"

Kate glanced at the message, then back at Y/N, and without hesitation, she playfully slapped Y/N's shoulder. "Damn, Y/N, you're gonna score an older woman. I'm so jealous!"

Y/N's blush deepened as she reclaimed her phone, practically beaming. "I can't believe this is happening."

Kate smirked. "Well, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, looks like you're in for an interesting ride. Now, lay down and sleep before I have to call Wanda to bend you over her knee for not resting."

Y/N laughed, finally settling onto her bed. As she closed her eyes, thoughts of Wanda and their unexpected connection filled her mind, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation for what lay ahead.

...

As the week progressed, Y/N Y/L/N found herself engaged in lively text conversations with Wanda Maximoff. Their exchanges became a bright spot in her demanding schedule, a source of comfort and excitement amidst her overwhelming commitments. Yet, despite Wanda's gentle reminders to take care of herself and rest, Y/N struggled to break free from her relentless routine.

Friday evening descended, and Y/N stumbled out of the cafe, weariness etched into her features. In her sleep-deprived state, she collided with someone just outside the door. Her murmured apology was met with a chuckle, and as Y/N looked up, her gaze locked onto Wanda's concerned expression.

"Honey, you told me you were resting more," Wanda remarked softly, concern etched in her voice. "You look like a zombie."

Y/N's cheeks flushed, her exhaustion becoming more evident. Attempting to inject some humor, she teased, "Am I a hot zombie, at least?"

A playful grin tugged at the corners of Wanda's lips. "The hottest zombie, I'd say. But this particular zombie is now coming with me to my apartment. It seems I can't trust you to rest properly on your own."

Y/N opened her mouth to object, but Wanda's hand was already wrapping around hers, leading her to Wanda's car. The sensation of Wanda's warm touch sent shivers down Y/N's spine, igniting a series of emotions she couldn't quite comprehend. The ride to Wanda's apartment was marked by a comfortable silence, a palpable connection existing between them.

Once they arrived, Y/N expressed her hesitations. "I really don't want to impose."

Wanda dismissed her concerns with a casual wave. "Darling, you're an intelligent woman. If someone invites you to their house, are you really intruding?"

Blushing deeply, Y/N murmured, "Okay, Maximoff. I'm guessing you want me here."

Wanda's grin was infectious. "Smart guess. Now, have you eaten, darling?"

Avoiding Wanda's gaze, Y/N admitted softly, "I haven't had the time."

Wanda's expression turned incredulous. "It's 11 PM. You should have at least eaten something."

Sighing, Y/N nodded. "Okay."

"Go on, make yourself comfortable on the couch," Wanda directed. "I'll whip up something delicious for you."

Following Wanda's guidance, Y/N settled onto the couch, pulling out her phone to send a quick text to Kate, updating her on the change of plans. Kate's response made her chuckle, and after stowing her phone away, she took a moment to appreciate the elegance of Wanda's apartment.

Heading into the kitchen, Y/N found Wanda with her hair in a bun, orchestrating a culinary masterpiece. The tantalizing aroma of the cooking filled the space, making Y/N's stomach rumble. However, her attention shifted from the food to Wanda, who was humming a catchy tune and swaying her hips to the rhythm. The sight was mesmerizing, and Y/N was caught off-guard when Wanda's voice interrupted her thoughts, "Enjoying the view, darling?"

Flustered, Y/N stammered, "I just... uh, wanted to check if you needed any assistance."

Wanda turned to face Y/N with a knowing smirk. "Darling, just sit there and look pretty. That's all the assistance I require from you."

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she obeyed, taking a seat in the kitchen. Wanda's smile was warm and inviting as she continued to prepare the meal. Y/N found herself captivated by Wanda's presence, a growing connection forming between them that seemed to transcend words.

As Wanda hummed a tune, Y/N recognized the song and pulled it up on her phone. Wanda's grin grew wider. "Ah, so you appreciate good music too?"

Embarrassed but sincere, Y/N replied, "Well, it's a classic..."

With the song playing softly in the background, their interaction continued to flow seamlessly, building a sense of familiarity and intimacy. Y/N couldn't help but feel drawn to Wanda's energy, and with every passing moment, she found herself sinking deeper into the unexpected connection that had bloomed between them.

After a satisfying meal, a pleasant drowsiness began to envelop Y/N Y/L/N. Wanda Maximoff noticed the telltale signs and smiled gently. "Well, it looks like it's time to head to bed, darling."

Y/N nodded, stifling a yawn. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Standing up, Wanda gestured for Y/N to follow her. Y/N complied, trailing behind Wanda as they entered a room that appeared to be Wanda's. Y/N's heart raced at the prospect of spending the night in the same room as Wanda.

Wanda pulled out some comfortable clothes from her closet and handed them to Y/N. "I wasn't going to let you sleep in jeans," she said with a chuckle. "There's a brand new toothbrush in the cabinet in the bathroom for you."

As Wanda retrieved a blanket and pillow, Y/N hesitated, glancing around the room. "Wait, where are you going? This is your bed."

Wanda smiled warmly, her eyes holding a reassuring glint. "I'm going to take the couch so that you can rest in a comfortable bed."

Y/N's expression turned into one of concern. "No, no, I can't let you sleep on the couch because of me. I'll take the couch or something."

Wanda shook her head, her tone firm but caring. "Darling, you need quality rest. The couch won't give you that."

Y/N sighed, feeling torn. "Well, you need quality rest too. Just stay in the bed. I don't mind sleeping with you."

Wanda's eyebrows raised, a blush tinting her cheeks. Y/N's words seemed to hang in the air, charged with unintended implications. Y/N quickly stumbled over her words, flustered. "I mean, I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want you to be tired tomorrow. I mean, look, I don't want you to think that I wouldn't... Oh god, just sleep in the bed and don't comment on it, please."

Wanda chuckled, her fingers lightly pinching Y/N's cheek. "I make you quite nervous, don't I? But that's okay. You're adorable when you're nervous."

Y/N blushed even deeper, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and fondness for Wanda's teasing. She quickly excused herself, retreating to the bathroom. Changing into the shorts and t-shirt Wanda had given her, Y/N couldn't help but smile when she realized the clothes carried Wanda's scent.

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Y/N took a deep breath and looked at her reflection in the mirror. This was it—a chance to sleep in the same bed as the woman she had developed a crush on, a bit too intensely.

As Y/N emerged from the bathroom after changing, her eyes widened at the sight of Wanda Maximoff, now clad in shorts and a tank top. The subtle curve of Wanda's figure caught her attention, and she quickly averted her gaze, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Wanda's chuckle rippled through the air. "You're easy to impress, darling."

Y/N shushed her, her embarrassment evident. Walking over to the bed, she slipped under the covers, her heart racing. Just a moment later, Wanda returned from the bathroom, her presence making Y/N's heart skip a beat. Climbing into the bed as well, Wanda settled beside her.

Y/N fumbled for her phone, trying to steady her nerves. She turned on an alarm, prompting Wanda to raise an eyebrow. "Why set an alarm? You don't have any classes tomorrow."

Y/N hesitated for a moment before answering, "I have to catch the bus to my hometown for the weekend. You know, my mom and niece—I have to help out."

Wanda gently took Y/N's phone from her hands and turned off the alarm. Handing it back, she declared, "We're sleeping in tomorrow. I'm driving you to your parents' place."

Y/N shook her head, protest forming on her lips. "No, no, I can't have you do that."

Rolling her eyes playfully, Wanda insisted, "Honey, consider it done."

Y/N let out a resigned sigh, still feeling overwhelmed by Wanda's kindness. "I don't understand why you're being so nice to me."

There was a brief pause, a sense of vulnerability hanging in the air. Wanda's usual confidence seemed to waver for the first time that night. But then, she brushed off the moment, a smile gracing her lips. "Rest now, darling. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

Y/N nodded, her heart fluttering as Wanda leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Good night, Y/N."

Flustered, Y/N managed to reply, "Good night, Wanda," as she watched Wanda's retreating figure. Alone in the dimly lit room, Y/N couldn't help but replay the events of the evening, the weight of Wanda's presence, and the gentle kiss on her cheek, making it difficult for her to fall asleep.

...

As the morning sun began to filter through the curtains, Y/N's phone rang, stirring her from her slumber. With a groan, she moved to reach for it, only to realize that she was met with resistance. Blinking in confusion, she realized that her arms were wrapped around someone, and she was on top of them. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of Wanda Maximoff, peacefully sleeping beneath her, arms wrapped securely around Y/N.

For a moment, Y/N couldn't help but admire the tranquility of Wanda's sleeping form. The soft rise and fall of her chest, the delicate curve of her lips, and the way her hair cascaded across the pillow—it was a sight to behold.

As Y/N's phone continued to ring, she decided to answer it before it woke Wanda. Her mother's voice greeted her from the other side, a mix of concern and scolding evident. "Y/N, why weren't you answering? Did you get on the bus safely?"

Y/N winced, feeling slightly guilty. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm fine, really. I just...slept in."

Wanda stirred slightly at the sound of Y/N's voice, letting out a soft groan. Y/N's mother continued, oblivious to Wanda's presence. "Did you wake Kate up?"

Y/N quickly shook her head, forgetting that her mom couldn't see her. "No, it's not Kate. Uh, a friend will be driving me to your house, so I just slept in a bit."

Y/N's mother sounded puzzled. "Well, if it's not Kate, then who is it?"

Blushing, Y/N stammered, "Uh, it's someone... Anyway, see ya, love you, bye, Mom."

As she hung up the phone, she became aware of Wanda's amused gaze upon her. Wanda's voice, tinged with a playful tone, broke the silence. "A friend, huh?"

Y/N playfully slapped Wanda's shoulder. "My mom won't let me live this down now."

Wanda laughed, rubbing Y/N's back gently. "Well, at least you're awake now. By the way, who's Kate?"

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N teased, "Jealous?"

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Just tell me."

Y/N chuckled, explaining, "Kate is my roommate."

Satisfied with the response, Wanda gestured towards the bathroom. "Alright, time to get up. I'm making breakfast."

Y/N nodded, finally mustering the will to extricate herself from Wanda's embrace. The warmth of Wanda's presence lingered, leaving Y/N with a mixture of emotions that she wasn't quite sure how to process. As she headed to the bathroom, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn of events that had brought her into Wanda's orbit.

As they sat down to enjoy breakfast, the morning sunlight painted the room with a warm glow. Y/N took a deep breath, mustering the courage to ask the question that had been lingering in her mind. "Wanda, can you tell me why you've been so nice to me?"

Wanda's expression shifted, a mixture of nervousness and vulnerability crossing her features. She cleared her throat, her gaze fixed on her plate. "Look, I don't want you to find this weird, and I really don't want it to ruin anything between us, even if you don't feel the same way."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her curiosity piqued. "Wanda, you can tell me. I promise I won't judge."

Wanda took a deep breath, her voice wavering slightly. "From the moment I laid my eyes on you, even though you were fainting, I couldn't help but feel drawn to you and your beauty. The more we talked, the more I got to know you, the more I realized I liked you."

Y/N's eyes widened, the realization hitting her like a wave. She listened intently as Wanda continued, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. "I'm nice to you because, honestly, I like you in way more than just a friend way. I would like to take care of you because you obviously need someone to. I know this might be too forward, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, but I have a crush on you, you could say."

Y/N was at a loss for words, her mind racing to process what she had just heard. She cleared her throat, her voice shaky as she repeated, "Take care of me?"

Wanda nodded, a determined look in her eyes. "Yes. I would offer you to stay at my place so you don't have to go to work, and you can rest more and just focus on your studies and your family. I really don't want anything in return. I just... I have more than enough money to take you under my wing and help you out."

Y/N's mind was a whirlwind of emotions as she tried to absorb everything. She chuckled nervously, looking up at Wanda. "Wait, you really think I don't like you back?"

Wanda's brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Y/N's chuckle turned into a genuine smile. "Wanda, I get flustered when you so much as breathe my way. I like you a bit too much if I'm honest."

Wanda's face broke into a wide grin, her eyes lighting up. "You do?"

Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushed but her gaze unwavering. "But I didn't want to push anything because I didn't know if you wanted anything with me. I mean, I'm younger..."

Wanda's grin remained, and she leaned in closer. "You know what they say, darling. Age is just a number."

As their eyes locked, the weight of their unspoken feelings hung in the air. The breakfast table was forgotten, the world around them fading as they shared a moment filled with possibility and newfound understanding.

...

Wanda followed through on her promise. She drove Y/N to her family's house, the journey filled with casual conversation and stolen glances that held a world of unspoken emotions. As they reached their destination, Wanda pulled the car to a stop. Turning to Y/N, she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Have a good time, Y/N. Take care."

Y/N blushed, her heart fluttering at the touch of Wanda's lips against her skin. "Thank you, Wanda," she replied, her voice soft.

Wanda offered a warm smile before retracting and exiting the car. She waved at Y/N and watched as Y/N walked towards her family's home. Once Y/N was safely inside, Wanda turned back to her car and drove away, her thoughts consumed by the woman she had come to care for.

Inside her family's home, Y/N's grin was practically infectious as she greeted her niece with open arms. The little girl's small arms wrapped around Y/N's knees, and Y/N scooped her up, showering her with kisses and affection. After greeting her niece, she moved on to her mother, kissing her cheek and exchanging warm greetings. Her brother and his wife received the same treatment, and soon the entire family was caught up in laughter and conversation.

As they settled in, Y/N's mother couldn't help but notice the newfound glow in her daughter's demeanor. With a curious smile, she leaned in and whispered, "Who was that woman you were with this morning? And who was in that expensive car that drove you here?"

Y/N blushed, glancing down at her plate momentarily before looking up. "Well, Mom, I met a woman named Wanda. She's pretty amazing. She's a bit older, but she's really good to me and helps me out a lot."

Her brother couldn't resist chiming in with a teasing grin. "And what does she ask for in return?"

Y/N shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. "Nothing, actually. She's taking things as I want to."

Her brother exchanged a knowing glance with his wife before both of them requested to see a picture of this "amazing" woman. Y/N obliged, showing them a photo of Wanda on her phone. Their jaws dropped slightly, and her brother whistled, exclaiming, "Damn, sis."

Y/N laughed, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and pride. The weekend was spent helping out around the house, catching up with family, and exchanging stories of their lives.

Finally, Sunday night arrived, and Y/N's phone buzzed with a message from Wanda, indicating her arrival. Y/N said her goodbyes to her family, embracing each of them in turn. With a smile on her lips and thoughts of Wanda swirling in her mind, Y/N left her family's house and headed toward the waiting car.

As Y/N stepped into the car, the air was charged with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She couldn't hold back the surge of emotions that had built up over the weekend. Before she could overthink it, she reached out and gently cupped Wanda's cheeks, drawing her in for a tender kiss on the lips.

Wanda's surprise was evident, but she quickly responded to the kiss, her lips meeting Y/N's with a mixture of passion and softness. The moment was fleeting yet filled with an undeniable connection that spoke volumes beyond words.

As they pulled away, Wanda's eyes held a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "What was that for?"

Y/N's cheeks were tinted pink, but her smile was genuine. "Just missed you."

Wanda chuckled, her own blush evident. "If that's how you're always gonna greet me, I will be more than happy to drive you to your family every weekend."

Y/N laughed, her heart fluttering at Wanda's response. "Well, I guess you'll just have to find out."

The car started moving, carrying them down the road, away from Y/N's family home and toward the uncertain yet exciting path that lay ahead. With each passing moment, their bond grew stronger, and the connection they shared became more profound. As they journeyed together, they were both aware that their lives had taken an unexpected turn, but it was a turn that they were more than willing to explore.

...

On a typical afternoon, Y/N found herself in Wanda's apartment, engrossed in her studies after a long day of classes. Wanda was still at work, and Y/N appreciated the quiet atmosphere that allowed her to focus. However, her concentration was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Assuming it was Wanda returning earlier than expected, Y/N got up and walked over to the door. But when she opened it, she was met with the sight of an unfamiliar woman with striking ginger hair. Their eyes met, both puzzled by the unexpected encounter.

The woman spoke first, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "Um, do I have the wrong apartment?"

Y/N leaned against the door frame, her brow furrowing. "Well, who are you looking for?"

The woman hesitated for a moment before responding, "I'm looking for Wanda Maximoff."

Y/N's expression cleared as she realized the situation. "No, you have the right apartment. Wanda isn't home yet."

The woman offered a faint smile. "May I come in then?"

Y/N stepped aside, welcoming her guest. Once inside, the woman introduced herself as Natasha Romanoff, a close friend of Wanda's. Y/N's curiosity piqued, and she looked at Natasha with interest.

Natasha's gaze was quizzical as she observed Y/N. "And who might you be?"

Y/N extended her hand with a friendly smile. "I'm Y/N, Wanda's girlfriend."

Natasha's eyebrows raised, a playful smirk forming on her lips. "Oh, Wanda keeps you a secret, huh?"

Y/N chuckled, feeling a mixture of flattery and awkwardness. "It's all very sudden."

Natasha leaned against a nearby surface, her posture relaxed. She shot Y/N a teasing glance. "Well, Y/N, it's nice to finally meet the elusive girlfriend."

Y/N blushed, not entirely sure how to respond to Natasha's playful demeanor. "Nice to meet you too, Natasha."

The teasing took an unexpected turn as Natasha leaned in slightly, a flirtatious glint in her eye. "You know, Y/N, if Wanda's keeping secrets, maybe you deserve a little fun too."

Y/N chuckled nervously, her cheeks pink. "Natasha, I don't think that's a smart idea. I'm with Wanda."

Before Natasha could continue the flirtatious banter, the door swung open, and Wanda walked in, her voice cutting through the moment. "Give her a break, Nat."

Wanda's presence instantly changed the atmosphere, and Natasha straightened up, her demeanor shifting to a more composed one. Y/N let out a relieved breath as Wanda entered the room, her eyes meeting Y/N's with warmth and familiarity.

"Well, Wands, I just had to check if she was loyal to you," Natasha quipped, her tone light. "I gotta make sure my friend is happy, you know."

Y/N's cheeks heated up, and she playfully hid her face against Wanda's neck, letting out a nervous laugh. Wanda chuckled and wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist, looking at Natasha with an amused expression. "You have a funny way of looking out for me, Nat."

Natasha grinned mischievously, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, I take my job as a friend seriously."

The tension eased as they all burst into laughter, the awkwardness of the situation dissipating into shared amusement. Wanda's gaze landed on Y/N again, a playful glint in her eyes. "So, Y/N, did you pass the loyalty test?"

Y/N peeked out from her hiding spot, still blushing but more at ease. "I think so?"

Natasha gave a mock-exasperated sigh. "Yes, she did. I mean, who could resist me?"

Wanda chuckled, giving Y/N's waist a gentle squeeze. "Well, I managed to."

The camaraderie between the three of them was palpable as they exchanged playful banter. Natasha's curiosity shifted toward a more serious topic as she asked, "So, how come Y/N is already living here?"

Wanda looked at Y/N with a fond smile before turning back to Natasha. "Y/N is working really hard, juggling studies, a part-time job, and taking care of her family. I wanted to help her out, make things a bit easier."

Natasha's smile softened, her eyes conveying a mix of respect and admiration. "You've always had a heart of gold, Wands."

Y/N chimed in, her voice filled with gratitude. "It's true. Wanda's been amazing, Natasha. She's been there for me when I needed someone the most."

Natasha nodded appreciatively. "Well, you're lucky to have her. I've been trying to score this one for a while, but I'm guessing now she was just waiting for a young, hot one."

Y/N burst into laughter, the tension fully lifted now. "Maybe she was."

The atmosphere was easy and light, a testament to the bond between the three of them. As the conversation continued, Y/N realized that Wanda's friendships were as unique and genuine as the woman herself, and she couldn't help but feel grateful for having been welcomed into this circle of care and camaraderie.

...

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of studying, hard work, and determination. Y/N was relentless in her pursuit of success, and her dedication paid off as she passed all her finals with amazing grades. With her accomplishments in hand, she decided to celebrate with her roommate Kate and Kate's girlfriend Yelena. Y/N extended an invitation to Wanda and Natasha as well, eager to share her joy with those who had become so important to her.

As they arrived at the club for their celebratory night out, Y/N's excitement was palpable. The atmosphere was charged with music and energy, setting the stage for a memorable evening. Natasha's presence, however, sparked a surprised reaction.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, looking at Yelena with a mixture of amusement and confusion. "What are you doing here?"

The others exchanged curious glances, wondering about the unexpected connection. Yelena rolled her eyes playfully. "She's my sister."

Laughter erupted, the coincidental meeting of sisters in such a vast city adding a layer of camaraderie to the group. As they settled into the night, the drinks flowed, and inhibitions slowly faded away. Y/N found herself dancing energetically, her body moving to the rhythm of the music.

In the midst of the pulsating lights and music, Y/N felt Wanda's presence beside her. Their bodies moved in sync, and Y/N couldn't resist leaning in closer, feeling the magnetic pull that had drawn them together. As the night progressed, the alcohol added a layer of courage, and Y/N found herself becoming bolder.

Kate, with her playful nature, teased Y/N about Wanda, causing a blush to spread across Y/N's cheeks. Just as Y/N was about to stammer a response, Wanda's hand cupped her cheek, and their lips met in a soft yet passionate kiss.

Y/N's heart raced, the world around them fading as Wanda's touch enveloped her. As they broke apart, Wanda's eyes held an affectionate gaze, and her words were whispered with tenderness. "You're adorable."

The music and laughter continued to fill the air, the night a tapestry of joy and connection. Y/N had found herself surrounded by people who cared for her deeply, who had become a part of her journey and her heart. As they danced and laughed together, Y/N realized that life had taken her on an unexpected yet beautiful path, one filled with love, friendship, and unforgettable moments.

...

In the days that followed Y/N's graduation, a sense of accomplishment and relief washed over her. She had worked tirelessly to excel in her studies, and now that she had successfully passed all her finals with remarkable grades, a new chapter of life awaited. As she basked in the glow of her achievement, she couldn't help but appreciate the support and love she had received from her friends and loved ones.

Among those who had been a constant presence was Wanda Maximoff. Ever since their chance encounter and the subsequent connection they had formed, Wanda had become an integral part of Y/N's life. They had shared moments of vulnerability, laughter, and genuine companionship. Y/N was grateful for Wanda's unwavering encouragement and support throughout her academic journey.

Yet, as graduation day approached, Y/N noticed a curious change in Wanda's behavior. She seemed to take a keen interest in cars, a topic that Y/N hadn't seen Wanda express much enthusiasm about before. Wanda would often ask Y/N about her preferences, the type of cars she liked, and even her dream car.

One evening, as they were sitting in a cozy corner of their favorite café, Y/N couldn't help but voice her curiosity. "Wanda, you seem really interested in cars lately. Is there a reason for that?"

Wanda looked at Y/N, a playful glint in her eyes. "You can tell a lot about a person by which car is their dream car."

Y/N chuckled, intrigued by the enigmatic response but not thinking too deeply about it. They shifted the conversation to other topics, enjoying the comfort of each other's company. Graduation day came and went, filled with the joy of accomplishment and the anticipation of new beginnings.

On a warm evening, after a celebratory dinner with her family, Y/N returned home with a contented smile. The apartment was dimly lit, and the air was charged with an air of mystery. Wanda's eyes twinkled as she approached Y/N, a blindfold in her hand.

"Close your eyes," Wanda instructed, her voice gentle.

Y/N complied, feeling a mixture of excitement and curiosity. The blindfold was carefully placed over her eyes, and Wanda's fingers brushed against her skin as she tied it securely. Y/N's heart raced as she wondered what surprise awaited her.

Wanda took Y/N's hand and led her carefully, their steps measured and deliberate. Y/N's mind raced with possibilities, trying to guess where they were headed. The sound of footsteps echoed through the hallways, and Y/N felt a rush of anticipation.

Finally, Wanda's voice broke through the silence. "Okay, open your eyes."

Y/N removed the blindfold, and her eyes widened in astonishment. Before her stood a sleek and elegant Tesla, bathed in the soft glow of the evening lights. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat. She turned to Wanda, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"Wanda, what is this?"

Wanda's smile was warm and genuine as she took out a set of keys and placed them in Y/N's hand. "This is a graduation gift from me."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, her emotions overwhelming her. "Wanda, I can't accept this. It's too much."

Wanda's expression was gentle yet resolute. "You deserve it, Y/N. To me, it's nothing, and seeing you happy makes me happy."

Y/N tried to find the right words, to express her gratitude and disbelief, but they eluded her. Instead, she reached out and pulled Wanda into a tight embrace, her heart overflowing with emotions. They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, celebrating an achievement that felt even more special because it was shared.

As they pulled apart, Y/N's gaze fell on a neatly wrapped box placed on the driver's seat. She looked at Wanda, her curiosity piqued. Wanda's playful expression and a subtle raise of her eyebrows indicated that there was more to come.

With trembling fingers, Y/N carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a stethoscope of exquisite craftsmanship. The instrument was beautifully designed, with Y/N's name elegantly engraved on it. Y/N's eyes widened in astonishment, her hand touching the stethoscope as if it were a precious artifact.

She looked at Wanda, her voice filled with awe. "This is amazing, thank you so much."

Wanda's fingers brushed against Y/N's cheek, her gaze soft and affectionate. "You're welcome, darling. You've worked so hard, and I wanted to mark this moment for you."

Y/N's heart swelled with gratitude, her emotions swirling within her. She cupped Wanda's cheeks, a mixture of tenderness and adoration in her eyes. Without another word, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Wanda's, a kiss filled with a depth of emotion words could never convey.

As the kiss deepened, the world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them and the shared bond that had grown between them. It was a kiss that spoke of gratitude, love, and the promise of a future filled with shared moments and cherished memories.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N's gaze fell upon the Tesla once more. With newfound determination, she unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for Wanda. Wanda smiled appreciatively, leaning in to place a soft kiss on Y/N's cheek.

"Thank you," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

Wanda winked playfully. "Now, are you going to drive me around, or what?"

Y/N grinned, the excitement bubbling within her. She entered the driver's seat, the car's interior a blend of sleek design and cutting-edge technology. Wanda settled into the passenger seat, her smile warm and her eyes filled with affection.

As they drove off into the night, the city's lights illuminating their path, Y/N couldn't help but gush about the car's features. Wanda listened with a fond smile, her heart full as she watched Y/N's animated expressions and heard the excitement in her voice.

The wind tousled their hair, carrying with it a sense of freedom and possibility. Y/N glanced at Wanda, her heart swelling with gratitude for the woman who had not only gifted her a remarkable car but had also filled her life with love, support, and moments that would forever be etched in her heart.

...

Years had flowed by since that pivotal graduation day, where Y/N's life had taken an unforeseen turn. Her world had been forever altered by the chance encounter with Wanda Maximoff, and their love had grown in strength and depth.

In the intervening years, Y/N's veterinary career had soared to greater heights. Her clinic had become a beacon of excellence in animal care, drawing clients from near and far. The walls of her office were adorned with framed degrees and accolades, a testament to her dedication and skill.

But it wasn't just professional success that had filled Y/N's life. It was the unwavering support and boundless love of Wanda that had truly enriched her existence. Wanda had been her anchor, her confidante, and her biggest cheerleader. Their love had evolved into an unbreakable bond, a love story that had touched the hearts of all who knew them.

Wanda's own journey had continued to impress. Her law firm had flourished under her expert guidance, and she had become a formidable presence in the legal world. Yet, her true fulfillment came from the positive impact she had on her community. Wanda was known for her philanthropic endeavors, her commitment to justice, and her kindness to those in need.

Their shared life was a vibrant tapestry woven with love and laughter. Their home, once just a place to reside, had transformed into a sanctuary of warmth and comfort. It was a place where the aroma of Wanda's delicious cooking filled the air, where playful banter echoed through the halls, and where their love story was etched into every corner.

One thing that had remained unchanged was Wanda's knack for surprising Y/N. Special occasions were marked with grand gestures, such as romantic getaways to exotic destinations or extravagant celebrations with friends and family. But it was the everyday surprises that often meant the most—a heartfelt note left on a pillow or a spontaneous dance in the living room to their favorite song.

Their love story was a living testament to the power of connection, resilience, and unwavering support. Through trials and triumphs, they had weathered life's challenges hand in hand, growing closer with each obstacle they overcame. Their love had deepened, matured, and become a source of strength for them both.

As they continued to walk the winding path of life, Y/N and Wanda knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together. Their love was a testament to the enduring power of two souls united by destiny, a love story that would continue to inspire and enchant for years to come.

[demonlimbsacoustic]

Palestinians have denounced Israel's air dropping of leaflets on Gaza marking the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, as a form of "psychological torture".

The leaflets, call on citizens to “feed the needy and speak kindly" during a time when hundreds of thousands in the besieged territory are at risk of starvation because of the Israeli blockade on food and water.

At least 20 people have died because of dehydration and malnutrition since the start of the war on 7 October, following Israel’s decision to cut off all food, aid, electricity and fuel for the besieged enclave.

The leaflet, which is written in Arabic, has images of lanterns typically used as Ramadan decorations.

It includes a prayer asking God that “fasts are accepted and sins are forgiven", and that Palestinians in the region have a "delicious breaking of the fast".

Journalists and activists denounced the leaflets and pointed out that hunger would not be so widespread in Gaza if not for Israel.

Human rights lawyer May el-Sadany called the move “deeply depraved”, adding that Israel is “responsible for the starvation of the Palestinian people”.

[manicplank]

Ways The Noise Has Died

I have a headcanon that The Noise can die and respawn. (He's cursed, but sometimes he takes advantage of it.) These are just some of the ways he's died. He does a lot of stupid shit.

Hit by car: 3

Lung cancer: 2

Throat cancer: 1

Fallen from building/height: 2

Shot by police: 7

Drowned: 1

Execution by electric chair: 1

Eaten by alligators: 2

Smashed by piano: 2

Killed by Peppino: 15

Heart attack: 3

Diabetes: 3

Fire/burns: 5

Explosion: 22

Spontaneous combustion: 4

Eaten by shark: 1

Poisoned: 1

Internal bleeding: 2

Septic shock: 2

Execution by guillotine: 2

Bleeding out: 4

Head trauma: 5

Forgot to breathe: 18

Killed by Toppin Monster: 3

Mauled by bear: 1

Ate something inedible: 6

Forgot to eat (starved): 3

Alcohol poisoning: 6

Dehydration: 3

Eaten by tigers: 1

Strangled by Pizzahead: 2

Stung by bees: 1

Run over by boulder: 1

Struck by lightning: 2

Led poisoning: 2

Ate paint: 3

EDIT from replies:

Killed by Noisette: 1

Radiation exposure: 2

Choke on food: 12

Organ failure: 7

Froze to death: 1

Allergies: 3

Land mine testing: 2

Food poisoning: 28

Jetpack failure: 6

Sucked into black hole: 1

Inhaling carcinogenic gaz: 7

Talking back to his mama: 1

Banished into the shadow realm: 2

Dark magic spell failure: 4

Touching electric plug with a fork: 5

Stunt failure: 35

Edit from replies 2:

Got skewered in a magic trick gone wrong: 11

Got caught in a mousetrap: 6

Rat poison: 25

Burned alive: 4

(Feel free to suggest ways he's died. Silly little bastard is always up to no good.)

Hit by a train: 2

EDIT by replies 3:

Washed out to sea: 4

Battle with Doise: 1

Fallen into volcano: 7

Mocked Pepperman’s art: 3

Sucked into tornado: 3

Kicked by cow: 1

Crushed by his crusher: 4

Ate Fake Peppino’s food: 2

Slipped on banana peel: 18

Rabies: 4

Pissed off Dougie Jones: 1

Shot by alien raygun: 3

Crushed by tree: 1

Buried alive: 3

Shot by Vigilante: 2

Knife juggling: 4

challenged God to smite him: 1

Fallen into bottomless pit: 7

Eaten by piranhas: 3

Bitten by zombie: 1

Air balloon crash: 5

Tried to light his fart on fire (gone wrong): 1

[astraystayyh]

everyone who still believes that all of this started on oct 7 and that israel is only targeting hamas is fucking stupid and there is no excuse left for your ignorance and blatant discard of genocide.

the goal was always to drive out people out of gaza so that israel can settle its people in it. that's why they're bombing residential areas to ensure that even if a ceasefire is installed then the people won't have houses and buildings to live in. that's why they're targeting and killing civilians, erasing entire families and murdering babies and children to ensure that Palestinian blood lines would stop. that's why they're attacking schools and libraries to ensure that palestine's educational system collapses and with it all the cultural heritage of its people.

that's why they're attacking hospitals and ambulances and leaving premature babies to decompose on hospital beds all alone to ensure that the injured won't be able to be treated adding to the massive death toll. that's why they're blocking food and water to ensure that whoever isn't killed by bombs will die by dehydration and famine and hypothermia due to the cold and the absence of electricity and heating.

every move of israel is well planned and well thought every thing they do is with the goal to drive people out of gaza, forcing them to abandon their lands and stripping them of the possibility to return to it ever again. that's why they're attacking the north and telling ppl to move south only to attack the south so that everyone would go to the egypt borders fleeing from gaza. that's why they're killing journalists to ensure that none of their crimes get out, to kill the fighting spirit in the people outside of gaza.

just because Palestinians are willing to die for their land doesn't mean that they want to. they love life if they find a way to it. they have dreams and aspirations they're living human beings like you and me why are we allowing this mass genocide against them???? don't be complicit don't stay silent don't treat this as a trend please. the least we could do is amplify their voices, the very very very least, from the comforts of our home. the very fucking least.

[ultimateloserboy]

thinking about duck dhmis having health issues and not even knowing it. first of all, he has diabetes, which you could say is just a joke, but i dont really think so. id say it would be if yellow guy didnt bring it up again a minute later in electricity where it was confirmed. sure hes talking to a different character, but his immediate assumption when someone is acting strange is to assume their blood sugar is low. i might be stretching- but to me it implies hes been in this situation before. charged yellow guy doesnt become smarter out of nowhere, he simply understands his already existing memories better, meaning he wouldve already known what low blood sugar was and how to deal with it before his batteries getting replaced. this implies to me that yellow guy has helped duck with his low blood sugar before, though i dont think him or duck actually understands whats going on. im not a diabetes expert or anything, but i know that low blood sugar is not nice, and you feel much better after grabbing a snack. which is funny, because in the past the creators have really driven it home that duck enjoys sweets and just food in general. in the “Its Nice That” QNA back in like 2016, half of ducks answers were about snacks and foods he liked. he said he finds yogurt exciting, and that his blood type is cream, etc. again, maybe im stretching, but it makes sense for him to enjoy these foods so much, because they’d probably make him feel better even if he doesn’t understand why. he probs thinks he just really fucking likes yogurt but in reality his blood sugar is literal ass.

moving on though, in the death episode he mentions forgetting to drink water, which is the cause of his literal death. dehydration is not a nice feeling, and its canon that the puppets experience pain like we do to an extent, so how long was duck feeling miserable without noticing? when the coffin cuts his finger he doesnt react at all, saying it “doesnt hurt that much” but pain is pain even if its small. he didnt even flinch to his finger being cut off. i dont think its the pain thats small, i think his pain tolerance is just too high for his own good. he probably didnt notice the pain of dehydration, or the pains of low blood pressure, or the pain of his insides being removed. he felt it, but he just didnt register how bad it really was. when he sees yellow guy being tore up in jobs he starts freaking out, obviously understanding that it must hurt, but if he was in the same situation he would be laughing. it makes me kind of sad in a way

there’s three ways i think this can be interpreted:

1: hes so desensitized to his own pain after eternity of being ripped apart that he doesnt even register when hes in pain anymore

2: hes so determined to be big and strong (like the military) that he refuses to acknowledge his pain because its a weakness he needs to get over

or 3: a mixture of both that is so bad it causes him to literally die of his own self-neglect. and even when his body tries to shut down and rest(die), he still refuses even that.

(plus, to add on to my runt-duck post, runts often have life-long health issues if they do live past infancy. i will die on the runt-duck hill. he is just like me.)

[kp777]

By Ralph Nader

Common Dreams

October 29, 2023

The message of Israeli peace groups’ peaceful solutions are drowned out by the media’s addiction to interviews with military tacticians.

In the midst of extensive coverage of the war in Gaza, there are questions that the U.S. mass media should address:

1. How did Hamas, with tiny Gaza surrounded by a 17-year Israeli blockade, subjected to unparalleled electronic surveillance, with spies and informants, and augmented by an overwhelming air, sea, and land military presence, manage to get these weapons and associated technology for their October 7 surprise raid?

2. What is the connection between the stunning failure of the Israeli government to protect its people on the border and the policy of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu? Recall TheNew York Times (October 22, 2023) article by prominent journalist, Roger Cohen, to wit: “All means were good to undo the notion of Palestinian statehood. In 2019, Mr. Netanyahu told a meeting of his center-right Likud party: ‘Those who want to thwart the possibility of a Palestinian state should support the strengthening of Hamas and the transfer of money to Hamas. This is part of our strategy.’” (Note: Israel and the U.S. fostered the rise of Islamic Hamas in 1987 to counter the secular Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO)).

3. Why is Congress preparing to appropriate over $14 billion to Israel in military and other aid without any public hearings and without any demonstrated fiscal need by Israel, a prosperous economic, technological, and military superpower with a social safety net superior to that of the U.S.? USDA just reported over 44 million Americans struggled with hunger in 2022. This, in the midst of a childcare crisis. Should U.S. taxpayers be expected to pay for Netanyahu’s colossal intelligence/military collapse?

Under international law, Biden has made the U.S. an active “co-belligerent” of the Israeli government’s vocal demolition of the 2.3 million inhabitants in Gaza, who are mostly descendants of Palestinian refugees driven from their homes in 1948.

4. Why hasn’t the media reported on President Joe Biden’s statement that the Gaza Health Ministry’s body count (now over 7,000 fatalities) is exaggerated? All indications, however, are that it is a large undercount by Hamas to minimize its inability to protect its people. Israel has fired over 8,000 powerful precision munitions and bombs so far. These have struck many thousands of inhabited buildings—homes, apartments buildings, over 120 health facilities, ambulances, crowded markets, fleeing refugees, schools, water and sewage systems, and electric networks—implementing Israeli military orders to cut off all food, water, fuel, medicine, and electricity to this already impoverished densely packed area the size of Philadelphia. For those not directly slain, the deadly harm caused by no food, water, medicine, medical facilities, and fuel will lead to even more deaths and serious injuries.

Note that over three-quarters of Gaza’s population consists of children and women. Soon there will be thousands of babies born to die in the rubble. Other Palestinians will perish from untreated diseases, injuries, dehydration, and from drinking contaminated water. With crumbled sanitation facilities, physicians are fearing a deadly cholera epidemic.

Israel bombed the Rafah crossing on the Gaza-Egypt border. Only a tiny trickle of trucks are now allowed there by Israel to carry food and water. Fuel for hospital generators still remains blocked.

5. Why can’t Biden even persuade Israel to let 600 desperate Americans out of the Gaza firestorm?

6. Why isn’t the mass media making a bigger issue out of Israel’s long-time practices of blocking journalists from entering Gaza, including European, American, and Israeli journalists? The only television crews left are Gazan-residing Al Jazeera reporters. Israeli bombs have already killed 26 journalists in the Gaza Strip since October 7th. Is Israel targeting journalists’ families? Gaza bureau chief of Al Jazeera Wael Al-Dahdouh’s family was killed in an Israeli airstrike on Wednesday.

Historians remind us that in a gridlocked conflict over time, it is the most powerful party’s responsibility to lead the way to peace.

7. Why isn’t the mainstream U.S. media giving adequate space and voice to groups advocating a cease-fire and humanitarian aid? The message of Israeli peace groups’ peaceful solutions are drowned out by the media’s addiction to interviews with military tacticians. Much time and space are being given to hawks pushing for a war that could flash outside of Gaza big time. Shouldn’t groups such as Jewish Voice for Peace, the Arab-American Institute, Veterans for Peace, and associations of clergy have their views and activities reported?

8. Why is the coverage of the war overlooking the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations Charter, and the many provisions of international law that all the parties, including the U.S., have been violating? (See the October 24, 2023 letter to President Biden). Under international law, Biden has made the U.S. an active “co-belligerent” of the Israeli government’s vocal demolition of the 2.3 million inhabitants in Gaza, who are mostly descendants of Palestinian refugees driven from their homes in 1948. (See, Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide).

9. What about the human-interest stories that would be revealing? For example: How do Israeli F-16 pilots feel about their daily bombing of the completely defenseless Gazan civilian population and its life-sustaining infrastructures? What are the courageous Israeli human rights and refuseniks thinking and doing in a climate of serious repression of their views as a result of Netanyahu’s defense collapse on October 7?

10. Where is the media attention on the statements from Israeli military commentators, who, for years have declared high-tech U.S.-backed, nuclear-armed Israel to be more secure than at any time in its history? Israel is reasserting its overwhelming military domination of the entire region, fully backed by U.S. militarism.

Historians remind us that in a gridlocked conflict over time, it is the most powerful party’s responsibility to lead the way to peace.

Establishing a two-state solution has been supported by Palestinians. All the Arab nations, starting with the Arab League peace proposal in 2002, support this solution as well. It is up to Israel and the U.S., assuming annexation of what is left of Palestine is not Israel’s objective. (See, the March 29, 2002 New York Times article: “Mideast Turmoil; Text of the Peace Proposals Backed by the Arab League”).

More media attention on this subject matter is much needed.

[theblackdahliaemporium]

Drying Herbs

How to Dry Herbs

Drying is the easiest method of preserving herbs. Simply expose the leaves, flowers or seeds to warm, dry air. Leave the herbs in a well ventilated area until the moisture evaporates. Sun drying is not recommended because the herbs can lose flavor and color.

The best time to harvest most herbs for drying is just before the flowers first open when they are in the bursting bud stage. Gather the herbs in the early morning after the dew has evaporated to minimize wilting. Avoid bruising the leaves. They should not lie in the sun or unattended after harvesting. Rinse herbs in cool water and gently shake to remove excess moisture. Discard all bruised, soiled or imperfect leaves and stems.

Dehydrator drying is a fast and easy way to dry high quality herbs because temperature and air circulation can be controlled. Pre-heat dehydrator with the thermostat set to 95°F to 115°F. In areas with higher humidity, temperatures as high as 125°F may be needed. After rinsing under cool, running water and shaking to remove excess moisture, place the herbs in a single layer on dehydrator trays. Drying times may vary from 1 to 4 hours. Check periodically. Herbs are dry when they crumble, and stems break when bent. Check your dehydrator instruction booklet for specific details.

Less Tender Herbs — The more sturdy herbs such as rosemary, sage, thyme, summer savory and parsley are the easiest to dry without a dehydrator. Tie them into small bundles and hang them to air dry. Air drying outdoors is often possible; however, better color and flavor retention usually results from drying indoors.

Tender-Leaf Herbs — Basil, oregano, tarragon, lemon balm and the mints have a high moisture content and will mold if not dried quickly. Try hanging the tender-leaf herbs or those with seeds inside paper bags to dry. Tear or punch holes in the sides of the bag. Suspend a small bunch (large amounts will mold) of herbs in a bag and close the top with a rubber band. Place where air currents will circulate through the bag. Any leaves and seeds that fall off will be caught in the bottom of the bag.

Another method, especially nice for mint, sage or bay leaf, is to dry the leaves separately. In areas of high humidity, it will work better than air drying whole stems. Remove the best leaves from the stems. Lay the leaves on a paper towel, without allowing leaves to touch. Cover with another towel and layer of leaves. Five layers may be dried at one time using this method. Dry in a very cool oven. The oven light of an electric range or the pilot light of a gas range furnishes enough heat for overnight drying. Leaves dry flat and retain a good color.

Microwave ovens are a fast way to dry herbs when only small quantities are to be prepared. Follow the directions that come with your microwave oven.

When the leaves are crispy dry and crumple easily between the fingers, they are ready to be packaged and stored. Dried leaves may be left whole and crumpled as used, or coarsely crumpled before storage. Husks can be removed from seeds by rubbing the seeds between the hands and blowing away the chaff. Place herbs in airtight containers and store in a cool, dry, dark area to protect color and fragrance. Dried herbs are usually 3 to 4 times stronger than the fresh herbs. To substitute dried herbs in a recipe that calls for fresh herbs, use 1/4 to 1/3 of the amount listed in the recipe.

Copyright: This document was extracted from "So Easy to Preserve", 6th ed. 2014. Bulletin 989, Cooperative Extension Service, The University of Georgia, Athens. Revised by Elizabeth L. Andress. Ph.D. and Judy A. Harrison, Ph.D., Extension Foods Specialists.

Picture Credit: Linda Palmer- Pinterest.

[rikaspotting]

Headcanon Clodsire facts #2: Electric Bougaloo

They are distantly related to the Mudkip and Croagunk line.

When two male Clodsire fight over mates, they bellow a deep DOOOO-OOOOOOOOOH and unleash their spines until one trumps the other's call. Fights very rarely occur.

Female Clodsire calls are much more quiet and temperate.

Their venom has been discovered to have anti inflammatory properties when diluted.

Clodsire easily get lost so it's not uncommon for them to travel to swamp to swamp trying to find their original home.

They have iron stomachs and can easily digest the most corrosive of materials.

Female Clodsire are known to babysit for other Clodsire when the latter needs to find food.

Males release a foul stench to attract females and secrete a poisonous oil to show off his worthiness. The more rancid, the more attractive to females.

Clodsire are so popular for their rotund shape that bakers become inspired to make pastries in their likeness such as donuts and eclairs.

They love to sleep and can easily snooze up to 13 hours a day.

They don't stop growing until they pass away from natural causes.

While Clodsire don't have teeth, their saliva is also poisonous and easily breaks down anything it's eating.

Clodsire are being used to clean up pollution in bodies of water due to their affinity of eating practically anything, including trash and plastic.

Due to their lack of intelligence, Clodsire are slow learners and have great difficulty solving problems that are simple for other Pokemon.

Clodsire make for poor guard Pokémon due to their gentle and relaxed natures. They are far more likely to make friends with intruders than enemies.

Despite being part ground type, Clodsire and Paldean Wooper love to be in water and need to be constantly moisturized since they dehydrate rapidly in the sun.

Male Clodsire are called Bulls where females are called Cows.

To defend their offspring or unrelated Paldean Wooper from an immediate threat, they swallow them up and stick them under their large tongue to escort the offspring to safety. They have a large pouch under their tongue meant for storing food and hiding babies from predators. This is usually only done as a last resort as the Clodsire parent uses up most of their energy swimming fast.

They are hardy creatures that can live in frozen water by temporarily shutting down their bodies.

Clodsire are poor swimmers but are extremely buoyant to the point they are nearly impossible to sink.

[sufrimientilia]

hmm, do you have any ideas for western/cowboy style whumps? recently saw The Good The Bad And The Ugly and the desert scene and the hangings are... quite inspiring.

eee my first ask!!

i'm sure you've seen this lovely post by @wollemi-whump. i stared at it for inspo

cowboy whump 2: electric boogaloo

the slow impact of boots on dirt, metallic jingling of spurs with each step. those same spurs kicking hard into whumpee’s side or digging into their throat

the hard thudding of nearly a dozen horses thundering closer and closer, a whole posse coming in for the attack or stampeding a runner

treated like another one of the cattle. lassoed and dragged along on foot, forced to run and hike for miles, made to drink from the same containers as the horses or denied water until they collapse

getting jerked around by a lariat kept tight around their neck or wrists, cutting and digging deep

lawman of the town overworked, over-stressed, always threatened by outlaws

lawman of the town corrupt by power and willing to toss anyone in jail for stepping out of line

small town mentality in Old Western format. just one doctor, just one minister, just one sheriff. maybe one of them is a creep/evil

everyone knows everyone and getting expelled into the wild frontier by mob mentality can happen

duels fueled by honor, aggression, booze. or getting pressured into facing the fastest draw in the West with a whole mob watching

duels where the winner still catches a bullet

duels in the town square that descend into chaos when the friends of either opponent get involved

frontier justice: lynching, vigilantism, gunfighting

frontier crime: horse theft, cattle raiding, bank robberies

very public hangings, shootings, or punishments (i.e. getting dragged by a horse)

saloon fights

the hard metal clang of a spit bucket bouncing right off of whumpee’s head

getting spat at with the sheer force of lightning

violence and alcohol. drunken aggression, broken bottles used as deadly weapons, forced to sit and drink under gunpoint before being challenged to a duel

droughts and limited resources. chapped lips and desperate sips out of a leather canteen, food too hard to come by. it's no wonder people become outlaws

dehydrated and asking for water only to gulp whiskey out of a canteen

lone survivor of a gang or posse that got wiped out

bounty hunters and getting hunted. posters with crude sketches of their face, wanted dead or alive, a hefty reward leaving them with no one to trust

forced to work on the railroad, pounding away at metal for hours and hours under the blistering sun

tied up and left on railroad tracks

tied up and shoved into a railroad cart and shipped east

native tribes being a true force of danger, almost like bogeymen among the townsfolk. faster on horseback, deadlier with arrows, experts of the land

getting targeted and hunted for being indigenous, forced to run and hide as resources are taken or destroyed by settlers

left for dead out in the desert and waking up in the care of a native tribe

stung by a scorpion

bit by a snake

boiling hot desert days, dark cold desert nights

shot off their horse by an arrow or bullet and landing hard on the ground while the horse keeps going

injured or sick while riding horseback. bleeding all over the saddle, barely able to hold on, slumping forward and eventually falling off

injured or sick while traveling across the frontier. huddled by the fireplace at every makeshift campsite, carefully draped over the horse or riding in the arms of caretaker

deteriorating away in a stagecoach with the constant clip-clop of horses rocking them back and forth

[mahmoudkhaled]

My name is Mahmoud Hammad from Palestine, Gaza. I finished my studies in nursing. I worked as a volunteer in one of the hospitals in the Gaza Strip, “Nasser Medical Hospital” in Khan Yunis, and after that I worked in a field outside my university studies due to the economic conditions and the siege on the Gaza Strip. “I want your help to save my family from this brutal war, and I am asking for your support to help me rescue my family (my parents, my wife, my two children, and three brothers) from Gaza. For more than 130 days, we have witnessed very difficult days of bombing, destruction, fear and terror. I lived days without I know news. My family has been cut off from communication due to the massive destruction and bombing. My family was displaced under bombing and terrorism to Rafah. We have reached a stage where we feel desperate. I ask you to help me save my family’s life by getting them out of Gaza because there is no safe place, and people are slowly dying because of... Hunger and dehydration. Displacement, the spread of diseases and malnutrition. My family became homeless like many others due to the ongoing bombing of Gaza since October 7. When my family was displaced, there was no means of transportation to get around. They walked under the bombing with fear and panic in their hearts. My family is staying now in a tent in Rafah in bad conditions. It is absolutely inhumane, food is running out, there is no electricity, water or toilet and it is very cold, imagine no diapers for my children! It has been 3 months of hell and horror. This genocide has been going on for a while for a long time, our mental health and our lives are in constant danger. This is what I can describe, and I cannot talk about the horrific scenes that my family witnessed throughout this period. We have reached a point where there is no longer any hope for us here in Gaza because unfortunately we are waiting for our turn to die.

The destruction in Gaza is too great to rebuild quickly. To exit Gaza through the Gaza crossing, which is the only crossing in the Strip, an adult must pay $7,000 to the coordinator. The occupation has destroyed a very large number of homes in our camp and bulldozed all the streets, and now we know nothing about our home!, which I miss and my eyes shed tears without realizing it. My entire childhood and childhood memories were lived in that house.

Please help me, I would greatly appreciate any donation, even a small one that can make a huge difference in alleviating our suffering. Please share my campaign widely, because every minute is a risk of death in Gaza. I would appreciate your help during this difficult time.

Thank you for standing in solidarity with us.

Mahmoud from Palestine - Gaza

[flock-talk]

dear flock talk

today my mom stepped into her car (having left the windows open on accident) and found a bright yellow parakeet on the dashboard. we have no facilities for birds but we got the birdie into the house and gave him some mashed banana and some bird seed my boyfriend gave to me, as well as made sure that our cat wouldn't cause any danger. the poor thing seems really scared and freezes whenever i walk into the room to check on him. he hasn't made any sounds since we've brought him inside. we put up an ad for a lost pet but in the meantime, is there anything you might recommend doing to make him feel a bit more relaxed while he's here?

the fellow in question ^

The banana distribution system is functioning well I see!

Be sure to check for local Facebook groups, often times there isn’t a rescue facility but there will be Facebook groups to post lost/ found animals or online only shelters that don’t have physical locations but will share found pet listings on their site! Veterinary facilities will also be a good place to check, and a good opportunity to have someone check the bird over to ensure they aren’t immediately ill or dehydrated. You can use the site aav.org to locate facilities with avian vets nearest you- this may help you narrow down what clinics this bird may already be a patient in which could help you narrow your search/ leave found bird posters at.

Definitely be sure to keep the cat and bird completely separate (no matter how much you trust your cat!) as just their saliva left over on their fur can kill a bird let alone potential prey drive risks!

In the meantime I’d set up a cage for the little fellow, a deep cleaned cat carrier could work in a pinch if you have one laying around- just ensure the bird can’t fit its head through the bars. Birds can get hurt very easily if left alone in a room (falling from heights, chewing electrical wires, getting caught in fabrics, eating drywall, the list goes on) so do try to find some way to contain them. This will also provide them with a safe space as they won’t feel as out in the open which may help the little banana bird settle in a bit.

In the cage provide their seed mix, clean water, and fruits + veggies near the top of the cage- stressed birds are less likely to travel to the floor to eat and feel safer staying up high. Watery foods like lettuce or apples can help to rehydrate them since they are probably a bit dehydrated after their grand adventure.

As for stress the big thing right now is just going to be leaving them alone, get their carrier set up somewhere quiet and up high against at least one wall, preferably two. Give them space and time to slow down, eat and drink, and de stress. For some birds talking to them very calmly and quietly without major eye contact can also help as well as soft white noise playing to help dull out sounds that could be sudden and startling. Overall just a dark quiet space will do the most good for now