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clockwayswrites · 1 year

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Like Betta Fish Do - Part 12

Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts.

wc 2295 (Chapter 9 when on ao3)

“Hey, it’s Danny, right?” asked the person standing next to Danny’s seat. They shifted, tucking a long strand of pitch black hair behind their ear.

“Yes?”

“We thought—”

“She thought,” said the woman who practically barreled into the first speaker’s back. She hooked her chin over the other’s shoulder with a grin as she adjusted her hijab. “Cloe thought, but we all agree.”

“Which is why I said we, I’m Cloe, this is Fara, that guy over there is José.” She motioned to a young man with a head full of curly brown hair and an easy smile waiting by the door. “We need a fourth for the group project, want to join us?”

“Me?” Danny repeated in surprise. No one in Casper High ever wanted him on a team, not unless it was Tucker and Sam.

“Totally. Your comment today on the possible advancements of propulsion technology was just the sort of thing that we’d love to do our topic on. It didn’t look like you had a group?”

“No, I don’t, not yet. That would be nice,” Danny said with a crooked smile. He’d been worried about having to find a group to work with so the offer was a huge weight off. Honestly the presentation was way too much of their grade in his opinion (but maybe that’s just because he had been dreading it).

“That’s great!” Cloe smiled back at him. “Do you have time to meet now? Just, like, to a coffee shop or the library. We can hash out the basics and what everyone should research before we meet up again the next time.”

“Sure. I could almost always use a coffee,” Danny said as he shoved his aging laptop in his backpack.

“Yeah, we can kinda tell with the…” Fara pointed at her own face, finger circling around her eyes.

Danny barked out a surprised laugh when Cloe let out an affronted “Fara!”

“Hey, I’ve been cultivating these dark circles since high school. They’re like fine wine,” Danny said. Snarky he knew how to handle.

“Oh, José will like you,” Fara said with a laugh. She linked arms with Danny and practically dragged him towards the door. “José! I found you another coffee addict.”

“Thank you,” he praised, “because Cloe only drinks the most basic bitch drinks and Fara likes tea.”

“I make an exception for pumpkin spiced lattes and hot chocolate,” Fara said with coy smile.

“See? See what I have to put up with. Please, my dude— is it my dude?” Danny nodded in response. “My dude, please tell me you drink real coffee.”

“With as many espresso shots as they’re legally allowed to add,” Danny said.

“A man after my own heart— a heart that runs on coffee,” José said with a laugh as they all spilled out the front of the engineering building.

Maybe this presentation wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Okay, so maybe Danny was just really not used to being around people any more.

Really, really not used to it.

He’d only spent an hour or so with the other’s at the coffeeshop, but between that, class, picking up a treat for Jason, and just having to go back and forth throughout the city Danny felt his nerves crawling under his skin. Every noise from every apartment around was so loud. Even his fridge seemed to be screaming at him with its incessant whine.

And there was no where to get away from it.

If he went out, Danny would just be surrounded by the sounds and smells and lights of the city. People would jostle into him or sit too close on the bus and— Danny shuddered at the idea of being touched by strangers right then.

He rubbed his fingers against his palms as he shifted and tried to lay more comfortably on his small sofa. He had his t.v. on, streaming mindless video game play throughs, but he wasn’t really paying attention to it. It was just to try and block out some of the noise.

There were things about the city that he loved, sure. The access to food was great. There was an amazing variety in walking distance of his place or campus. He’d also found a few great stores— a game store and a second hand clothing shop were top of his list. It was great how there was always a distraction.

But there was always a distraction.

Nothing ever really stopped in the city. That constant hum, after a few weeks of it, was really getting to Danny. He hadn’t thought he was rural or anything, but Amity’s hundred thousand or so people never prepared him for living here.

He closed his eyes and made himself take a slow breath.

Jason was going to show him some places around the city today.

He had to get a handle on himself before then.

He’d been trying for an hour now— or so his phone alerted him to when he checked it for the hundredth time. He laid it back on his chest and closed his eyes. When it started ringing a moment later he nearly jumped out of his skin.

‘Jason Calling’, it read. He fumbled to swipe the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey. My meeting wrapped early so I was going to head your way now if that’s good?”

Danny swallowed, trying to force back the buzzing under his skin. “Oh, um, yeah, sure.”

The line was silent for a pause. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Jason snorted. “That’s a lie.”

Danny flung an arm over his eyes and forced himself to take another breath. “I guess, just… It’s stupid.”

“Fish.”

The endearment was more gentle than Danny felt he deserved. He was being stupid about this. Who struggled to be around people? And he wanted to see Jason too. It was just… everyone— everything else.

He could hear the sounds of the city on Jason’s end and tried to focus on his voice instead. “Come on fish, talk to me.”

“It’s just— being in the city all the time… it’s just getting to me a little, I guess. I’m not used it it. That’s all. I’ll be fine.”

Jason gave a considering hum. “Okay. Change of plans. Do you have a leather jacket?”

“What? No?”

“Okay. Are you up for one stop first? We’ll make it quick.”

“One stop before what?” Danny asked as he pulled himself up by the back of the couch.

“Before my new plan for the day.” Jason sounded smug.

“I don’t— we don’t have to—”

“Trust me, okay?”

It was such an earnest request that it brought Danny to pause. He swallowed once more before he found his voice. “Of course I will.”

“Good. Then I’ll see you in twenty. Go put on jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and some sturdy shoes.”

The abrupt end to the call had Danny blinking down at his phone before he pulled himself up to do as he was told.

Jason studied Danny as the other came out of his apartment building. He hadn’t liked how Danny sounded on the phone and he didn’t much like how Danny looked now. It was like the other had tucked all his loud, jagged, wonderful edges away. It was like he was hiding from the world.

Well, Jason would just have to fix that.

“Just one quick stop,” Jason said, handing Danny a helmet.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to ba—”

“Fish,” Jason said firmly. He waited until Danny was actually looking at him (not frowning at the ground) to continue. “It’s okay if you’re not okay. You don’t have to apologize to me or about it or about you. You can be not fine.”

Fuck he was sounding like his well meaning family now. Still, it got a wobbly smile from Danny, so maybe it was worth parroting back the words. The words didn’t always help, he knew that. They certainly didn’t fix stuff that he still struggled with some days, but they couldn’t hurt. It couldn’t hurt to be reminded that someone cared.

“Okay. One quick stop,” Danny agreed.

“Right,” Jason said. He turned and straddled his motorcycle. “You ever ridden before?”

“Yeah, actually I have. A friend has one.”

“Huh.” Jason was actually a little surprised by that. “Okay then hang on tight. We won’t be doing anything crazy in the city, but we might have to stop quickly. Some drivers are jackasses about motorcycles.”

The bike dipped under him as Danny settled on behind him. There was an obvious moment of hesitation before Danny let himself slide forward. As Danny settled along his back, Jason had a thought of how well Danny fit. He briefly squeezed the arms wrapped around his waist in notice before he started his bike up and they took off through the city.

The one quick stop was to get Danny a riding jacket and gloves; Jason wanted to be sure that Danny would be warm and, more importantly, protected on the drive. As it was, Jason drove more cautiously than normal, very aware that Danny’s safety was in his hands.

It wasn’t long to the store, and he tried to make sure the shopping didn’t take too long. He could practically see Danny’s edges fraying. He did make Danny try on several jackets, even if he tried to make sure they didn’t linger, so that Danny could find the right one.

“Are you sure this is it?” Danny asked, tugging on the hem of the black leather jacket. It had a bit of a retro cut, but there was enough modern padding that if Danny fell off the road rash wouldn’t be that bad. Besides, Danny looked good in it; it cinched nicely at his waist and fit his shoulder snugly.

“Yep,” Jason said. He reached out and smacked Danny’s hand away when he tried to take a peak at the price tag again. “Stop that. I already told you I’m buying.”

“Jason—”

“Just accept it. Give me the jacket and go pick out some gloves,” he said.

Danny rolled his eyes, but shrugged off the jacket and handed it over. Jason took the moment to explain the mater to the sales person, who was cooperative about not saying the total out loud. The knowing smirk was a bit weird though. It even had Danny glancing at Jason suspiciously, but they got out of the store with what was needed and Danny none the wiser to what a good motorcycle jacket could cost.

Jason took the time to sync up both helmets so that they could talk on the ride if they wanted to, but he left the matter to Danny. It turned out to be mostly silent once they left the city, especially since Jason wasn’t explaining where they were going. The longer they were on the open roads, the more that Jason could feel Danny relaxing against his back until. Finally he settled in and rested his head against Jason’s shoulder blade.

“Thank you.”

“Ain’t seen nothing yet,” Jason rumbled back.

Danny just answered with a soft hum before he fell silent again.

Jason took them on the highway, down some side streets just for the view, and through a smaller city to the more secluded parking lot that he knew about. He could feel Danny freeze up behind him, and chuckled as he pulled off his own helmet. Danny did the same as he stumbled off the bike.

“Come on,” Jason said. He practically had to guide Danny down the path and to the top of the first bluff where the concrete ended.

Danny let out a breath exhale. “Oh, wow.”

His mouth hung slightly open as he stared out at the crashing waves and the beach that stretched out before them. A cloudy fall day wasn’t exactly the best time to visit the coast (not that they were the only ones doing so), but Danny still stared at it like it was the best thing he’d seen in a long time.

He stared at it like it gave him life.

Jason found he wanted— suddenly and fiercely— to find a million more moments that would bring that same spark to Danny’s eyes. He didn’t want Danny to stop living just because he had died.

Jason didn’t want to stop living just because he had died.

Not anymore.

He reached down to undo the knots on his boots with Danny scrambling to do the same. Laces tied together, Jason slung the boots across his shoulders and made his way onto the beach. He reached out to help balance Danny as he stumbled a little on the soft white sand.

When they had gotten to the edge of the water, Jason hung back slightly in the damp, but not wet, sand while Danny, with all of his normal abandon, rolled up his pants legs and barreled into the waves with a whoop. He ran in and out of the surf like one of those sand piper birds as the wind whipped his dark hair around his face like a storm of shadows.

Laughing as he was chased by a larger swell of water, Danny stumbled back to Jason’s side. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with salt air, and then just slumped heavily against Jason like he was boneless. Jason took the weight easily.

Jason grinned down at Danny, who’s eyes were still locked on the water. “Worth the trip?”

“Yeah. Yeah, worth the trip. Completely. Thank you Jason.”

“’Course. Gotta get the fish to water now and then.”

“Shut up, dead boy.” Danny rolled his eyes, but his grin didn’t drop for a second.

Jason chuckled, but found he didn’t need to say anything back. He was content to just watch Danny watch the ocean.

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AN: Finally an update for you all~ ngl, there are some rough spots I'm not entirely happy with, I feel you can really tell what I wrote when I was feeling really, really poorly. But that's what a re-write is for, I guess!

The classmates won't show up too much, but I needed an outside perspective and to show Danny is settling in- even if he's struggling with some things.

Apologies for any typos, I currently want to melon ball my eye out from this migraine so you know, words are hard. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #dead on main #deadonmain #danny x jason #like betta fish do

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intersectionalpraxis · 3 months

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hey im sorry if you already answered this and i don’t mean to antagonize you, but out of curiosity: why do you tag your Palestine posts with feminism? i don’t want to come off as rude but it did kind of confuse me at first

It's no worries at all, I have addressed this a handful of times, and another person asked me, and I answered. The anon question is deep in my page, so I'll share some posts I've spoken about why more feminists need to be talking about Gaza below, and address why not talking about this as a feminist issue is problematic.

The fight to dismantle power structures and institutions doesn't end at the patriarchy, but when there is an end to white supremacy, capitalism, and western imperialism, among other axises of oppression.

Strides and fights to liberation shouldn't be cherry-picked (we see this predominantly in white feminism -who only act when it personally effects them). And at the most technical level, women's experiences are intersectional and extend beyond just liberation from gender norms and expectations -yes, it is at the core of feminist discourse, to shatter ceilings and demand equity across the board, but that also includes the intersections -race, class status, disability, sexuality, religion, ethnicity, among many other aspects of our identities.

Women and children are also disproportionately impacted and killed by IOF terrorism. They are targeted purposely, and I addressed this in some of the posts below. An IOF official liked a post that said Palestinian women part of the 'Hamas infrastructure' and said they must be 'dealt' with via their deaths. Pregnant Palestinian women are being left without care during their trimesters, and tens of thousands of them have zero to inadequate care; and many are miscarrying. There is also a period care shortage, and many Palestinians have resorted to using cloths. Which overall the lack of access can cause health ramifications in the future.

So this is why ALL my posts are tagged with feminist and feminism. Especially when the IOF regularly uses 'don't the feminists of the world care that Hamas is raping Israeli women' in their propoganda videos and campaigns in order to spread misinformation and weaponize women's and feminist liberation movements to excuse their genocide of Palestinian people.

We should also not forget about the rampant sexual violence Palestinian women and children have and continue to experience by abusive, predatory rapists among the IOF soldiers, both past and present. Especially in the prisons' systems. I talk about this a lot on my page. So much of what I included below is only a fraction of what I have spoken about. My bottom line is if you're a feminist who talks about "women's liberation" and that doesn't include ALL women being systematically oppressed by settler/imperial/colonial forces, and you're especially not critical of your governments being complicit or funding a genocide, don't call yourself a feminist.

I hope this offers some clarity.

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chaiaurchaandni · 5 months

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"israeli" purplewashing

The liberated captive, Murabita Khadija Khwais, “My hands and legs were tied behind and I was beaten. They threw me on the floor of the jeep. A female soldier took off my hijab in front of a young man detained with me. I was assaulted and beaten the whole way. Prison conditions are very difficult, no matter how they are described, the tragedy is beyond the words could express.”

"israel" regularly claims to be 'the only country in the middle east that cares about women's rights' - this is how "israel" treats palestinian women. purplewashing refers to when a state/org appeals to feminism to deflect attention from its harmful practices. "israel" has bombed and killed thousands of palestinian women in gaza and the occupied west bank. women in Gaza are forced to take pills to delay their periods since Gaza has no water and aid. pregnant women in Gaza are giving birth under extremely dangerous conditions, since medical equipment is also included in the blockade and the majority of hospitals in Gaza have gone out of service, due to the "israeli" offensive which specifically targets Gaza's healthcare system.

#purplewashing #feminism #white feminists supporting israel suck my dick #free palestine #palestine #gaza #glory to the martyrs #long live palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #long live the resistance #death to israel

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mlmxreader · 1 year

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A Grounded Pilot | Alejandro Vargas x trans!m!reader

Anonymous asked: And well it means I'll request again.

I had in mind alejandro vargas x pakistani!ftm reader where reader is again a pilot and he has to go on a mission but, his jet goes off the radar for a week before the people that were sent to search for him bring him back, he had injuries but he wasn't severely injured. He would be devastated about his favorite jet. With this prompt "I was so fucking worried, when they'd said that you-" "Hey, it's alright. Look, I'm fine"

Sorry if this is too specific and confusing, feel free to ignore it :)

-🦝

summary: Alejandro is all too aware that being in the air force is dangerous, but that won’t stop him from worrying when the man he loves suddenly disappears.

tws: mentions of blood/bruises/minor injury, plane crashes, swearing, smoking

Every day had felt like a curse as Alejandro religiously checked his phone and checked any letters that had been addressed to him, always chewing his lip and reading things once, twice, three times, sometimes four, just to make sure that he had read them properly; he didn’t want to think that it was true, he didn’t want to think that every day, another squadron of the Pakistan Air Force had been sent out to retrieve you and had come back empty handed every fucking day. Sometimes, Alejandro would ask Allah to do him a favour, and to keep an eye on you, keep you safe until you could be found again, but he knew that it was a lot to ask; it had been several days since you had gone off of the radar during a mission, and nobody had seen hide nor hair of you and could hardly even stomach the thought of thinking the worst. Not you, you couldn’t be dead, not when you were an aerial ace in your own right and when Alejandro knew, he fucking knew better than anyone else, that you were the most talented, most lethal, most dangerous pilot that the Pakistan Air Force had to offer.

You couldn’t be dead, Alejandro knew that, but his hope that you would ever be found was beginning to fade; he didn’t think that you would be dead, he knew better than that, but captured? Held somewhere either for ransom or so that some asshole could torture you for information? Those were both likely, especially where the game of war was considered; it could have easily been the case that someone had grabbed you when you landed for a moment, and that they had dragged you off somewhere. You could be chained up, bloody, beaten for all Alejandro knew. You could be bloodied and bruised and weak and on death’s door, begging for mercy and begging for you life, maybe even trying to bargain your life for someone else’s; Alejandro was giving up hope that you would be found, if he was honest, he knew that the chances of you being found in a warzone went from slim to none within hours, and as the days crawled by and started to approach a week - a week with Pakistani pilots telling him that they were sorry, but they had not found you - Alejandro knew that the chances of you being alive got smaller.

“Will you find him this time?” Alejandro asked, tears in his eyes and desperation in his voice as he held Ansharah’s hand tightly. “Iqbal, please, you have to find him.”

Ansharah gave his hand a little squeeze as she sniffled and licked her lips, not really sure how to answer as she shook her head and swallowed thickly. “Ale, I will do what I can, I promise.”

“You have to find him,” his voice was getting more desperate, more weak and pleading. “You have to bring him home.”

“I’m gonna do my best,” her voice broke a little bit as tears came to her eyes, shaking her head as she cleared her throat. “I’ll do my very best to find (y/n), you know that… you just focus on getting yourself cleaned up, Ale - go shower, go get something to eat. Please?”

Alejandro nodded, but didn’t dare to break apart as he pulled her into a tight hug, careful not to mess up her Hijab as he buried his face against her and shook his head. “I miss him… the fucking pendejo shouldn’t have gone out…”

“I miss him, too,” she murmured, rubbing his back. “But he was never the type to follow orders… couldn’t keep him grounded…”

Alejandro eventually broke away, still teary eyed and still hardly able to speak without pleading as he took a step back and wandered off to the showers while Ansharah prepared to go and search for his boyfriend; she had a map with her of where she had not yet looked, and started from the furthest area, making her way back steadily - but as she was turning around to head back to base, she spotted it. The wreckage of a JF-17 Thunder. Her hands shook as she brought herself down to land nearby, shaking her head and repeating the word ‘no’ over and over again as she raced towards the wreckage.

You were there alright, sat on the broken wing as you puffed on a cigarette and waved at her, a grin on your face. “Mornin’ Iqbal - I was starting to think you’d never show up.”

Ansharah’s first instinct was to smack the back of your head, nearly causing you to drop your cigarette as she growled at you softly. “You fucking asshole! We’ve been out looking for you every fucking day! And you’ve just been sat here?!”

“All my Comms were down,” you started, “no radio, no satellite - couldn’t even show up on radar if I tried… the trek to base is fucking three hours, too, mind.”

She frowned at you, then kneeled between your legs as her shaky hands roamed your body, searching for injuries; but all she found were a few scrapes and a few minor cuts that had already healed, mostly cleared up bruises, and ash and charcoal littering your skin. So she didn’t hesitate, waiting for you to finish your cigarette before she dragged you back to her own plane, loaded you up in it, and started the flight back to base.

“The Air Marshal is gonna have my guts for garters,” you sighed. “My fucking plane got wrecked, and it’s my fucking fault.”

Ansharah shook her head, keeping her eyes on where she was going as she sighed. “I know you loved that plane, (y/n), but just be glad that you’re alive - be glad you haven’t been captured, either.”

“But I don’t have a plane,” you pointed out. “What fucking use is a pilot without a plane?”

“One that’s lucky enough to be alive and uncaptured,” she admitted. “Get some rest, Flight Lieutenant, we’ll have you back home soon, anyway.”

You did as she said, getting as comfortable as you could and doing your best to doze off, but you couldn’t sleep; your head was swimming, thoughts of your poor plane, reduced to nothing but rubble and ash as it sat back at the crash site, thoughts of Alejandro, your loving boyfriend who you knew would be worried and would be glad to see you, making you feel guilty for ever leaving in the first place. You shouldn’t have accepted the mission that day, intercepting an enemy aircraft, you should have left it to someone else; maybe if you did, then you never would have worried Alejandro in the first place, you never would have worried anyone if you didn’t leave that day. You didn’t get any sleep, and when Ansharah landed, you were the first to get out, first to run off and to find Alejandro; he crashed into you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he held you so close, his eyes wide and teary.

“You pendejo,” he grumbled. “I told you not to go! I told you not to leave! You… you could’ve been killed, amor… fuck, I was so fucking worried when they’d said that you-”

“Hey, it’s alright. Look, I’m fine,” you pulled away so that he could get a good look at you, smiling weakly as you allowed him to put his hands on you, roaming your body as he asked if it hurt. “My plane’s fucked, but I’m alright.”

“Oh, amor,” he said softly, raising his brows a little as he gently cradled your face in his hands, shaking his head. “(y/n), mis disculpas, I know how much that plane meant to you…”

“I’m grounded, Ale,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m useless.”

“No, no,” Alejandro shook his head again, daring to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. “You’re not useless, mi rey, you’ll get another plane…”

He couldn’t stop himself, grabbing you and pulling you in close again as he sniffled and pressed his mouth to your shoulder, keeping you so close to his own body that he could have sworn he could hear your heart thudding gently; he had been so worried, so fucking terrified that he had lost you, that you had gotten captured or worse, that he couldn’t help but to be a little overwhelmed with joy to have you back. To hold you in his arms again was just a way of making sure that he knew, that he could not doubt, that you were well and truly back and that, above all else, you were alright. He didn’t even try and hold back the few tears that he dared to shed against your jacket, leaving little wet spots as he did his best not to become too overwhelmed and give himself a headache; but then you pulled away, your eyes glistening with unshed tears as you reached into your pocket, and pulled out the packet of cigarettes that you had managed to save from the wreckage.

“Ale, you want one?”

He nodded, letting you light it for him before he dared to take it, taking a long drag and hoping that it would steady him slightly. “Gracias, mi amado… shit, it’s so good to have you back.”

You smiled when he grinned, nodding slowly as you took a drag from your cigarette and cleared your throat. “Take me home, Ale… please?”

“Of course,” he agreed without even needing to think about it. “But catch your breath a moment… are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m not broken,” you told him gently, shaking your head. “I’m not broken, I’m not even that bruised - it’s all shit that’s healed over, or mostly healed over.”

“Have the medics checked you over?” He asked, and when you told him that he was the first person you had seen, he sighed. “Come on, we’ll get you checked out by them before we go home, estúpido, you should know that I can wait!”

“Alejandro,” you couldn’t help but to laugh, looking at him so terribly fondly. You didn’t move as he started to walk off.

But then he turned back, and he dared to smile again as he swiped a hand down his face. “Sorry, amor, but-”

“You’re worried,” you dared to catch up to him, taking his hand in yours and daring to rub his knuckles with the pad of your thumb. “I know, but you don’t have to be. I’m alright.”

“I won’t believe that until a medic says otherwise,” Alejandro admitted, scratching his jaw as he let out a long sigh. “Por favor, mi amor, for me?”

You looked him up and down, realising just how worried he was, and you couldn’t help but to nod slowly as you licked your lips. “Alright, alright, for you, I will go and get myself checked out - once I get the all clear, can we please go home?”

He nodded, kissing your forehead as he dared to crack half of a smile. “Of course, but only if you get all the all clear. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Colonel,” you teased, and when he shot you a playful glare, you dared to grin. “Still don’t think I’m perfectly okay?”

“No,” he deadpanned, removing his hand from your grasp so that he could wrap his arm around you, keep you close to his side so that he wouldn’t forget what it felt like to hold you, to be close. “You’re getting checked out by the medics, (y/n), I won’t take you home unless they say you’re fine.”

“You worry too much,” you told him softly, kissing his neck so awfully tenderly. “Y’know that, don’t you?”

“Maybe I do,” he agreed. “But you don’t worry enough, Flight Lieutenant.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don’t wanna reblog, then you’ll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM.

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faghubby · 8 months

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Halloween forever

"It would hilarious" Mohammed tried to convince me.

"I don't know" I told him.

"Well we have over a month, think about it. It would be original. You would be my bride" he said.

"Even so I have no idea" I started.

"Sarina will help you." he cut me off. His sister Sarina was gorgeous I loved just being around her Mohammed knew that as well. I let it go as we headed into class.

I had not given it much thought till the weekend when Sarina showed up.

"Paul, I am so excited to help you with your costume" she smiled.

"OH right" I said staring at her ass as she bent over to pick up two bags.

"First you have to learn how to act like a Muslim woman." She teased me.

She took a hijab out of the bag.

"You have to learn to keep your hair covered at all times. Should be easy since you have short hair. She showed me how to wrap it around my head.

"There now knees together. And hands on your lap. That's good. Important to sit and act properly at all times." She explained. She spent the next few hours explaining things.

"You should never disagree with Mohammed especially in public let him lead you" she told me. I was just happy to spend so much time with her. I did everything she asked trying to please her. Over the next few weeks Sarina would and I spent several such days together. She had me dress in traditional Abaya. I had practiced how to move, dance, and stand. It had been weeks.

"I got you a present" Serina smiled handing me a box. I opened it to find woman's underwear. I looked at Serina confused.

"You will look so hot, besides it will help you stay in character" Serina smiled. I melted and nodded.

"Thank you" I told her.

"Welll try it on" she laughed. I wasn't sure but got up and went to change.

"Let me see" Serina called out a moment later opening the bedroom door. I was trying to hook the bra.

"OH you look so cute" she giggled. I grew hard as she looked at me.

"Careful you almost popped out" she told me as she helped me hook the bra. She helped me get dressed the rest of the way.

"You know you should shave your legs" she told me.

"No one will see them" I responded.

"I do" she said running her over my panties. "For me?" She smiled. I nodded. She helped me get fully dressed. Making sure the costume was perfect. That night I did shave my legs hoping Sarina would like it. As I did it looked wierd with hair sticking out of the panties so I trimmed my pubic hair short and shaved my ass. And the little hair I had going to my belly button.

The next day Sarina came to my house. She had me get dressed. She added traditional jewlery. Necklace. And clip on earings. When I was done

"Think you need a trial run" she told me. As she said this Mohammed came in.

"Your date for this evening" she giggled. I did everything Sarina had trained me to. He led me to his car. I was nervous being out in public but went with him. He drove to a big gated house.

"Where?" I started to ask.

"Shh" he said patting my knee. I jumped alittle. As we entered the house.

"Mom, Dad! He called out. They both appeared in the front hall.

"I like you to meet, Paulina" he introduced me as. I did not object instead remembered everything Sarina had taught me. Just then Sarina came in behind us.

"Paulina you made it for family dinner" she said hugging me. Between Mohammed and Sarina almost every question their parents asked me they responded. I sat quietly. Mohammed held my hand that gave me some comfort. But also very odd. After dinner Sarina pulled me aside.

"Let my brother lead you" she whispered "let him make you his"

"Sarina, I" I tried to tell her.

"He wants you, is that so bad?" She asked me. I looked over at him seeing him for the first time I believe. He was handsome, rich and kind and he did love me. Bit I wasn't gay.i thought.

"Let him have you, think how much you enjoyed becoming the perfect bride for him" Sarina told me. But I wanted her. I thought. Just then Mohammed came and took my hand leading me to his car.

"You where lovely tonight" he told me. Kissing me. Surprised I let him. I liked it. He opened my door and helped me in to his car. He drove me to his apartment.

"Come upstairs with me" he asked his hand again touching my knee. I just nodded. He again opened the door for me. And took my hand leading me inside. He sat me down on the couch.

"I am gay, but my parents will never allow that. I adore you." He told me. He removed my Habib his hand cupping my face.

"Be my wife, I will treat you like a queen" he told me. He kissed me again. I melted in his arms. His hand pulled the long dress up his hand caressed my smooth leg. Till he cubbed my hard dick.

"I knew you would like this" he said kissing me again. He stood me up and undressed me. I stood before him in just my satin panties and bra. I helped him undress as well. I reached into his underwear to feel a huge cock. I looked up at him surprised.

"We can go slow" he said trying to put me at ease. His black cock looked even bigger I my white hand somehow I thought as I stroked him.

"Can I?" I asked "I mean would you like me to?" I stumbled to ask. He just nodded with a smile as I lowered my self kneeling before him I kissed his cock.

"I never" I said he just smiled. I tried to suck it but could barely fit the tip in my mouth. So i licked and kissed it all over.

"Sorry I don't know how" I told him.

"Nothing to fret about you will learn" he assured me.

"I don't want to try and um, I mean it's so big" I told him. He helped me to my feet. He pulled me to his lap. He kissed me as his hands pulled my panties off. I felt something cool being applied to my ass. As he worked a finger in my ass. He was slow and gentile. He worked in a second finger. I found myself bouncing up and down on his fingers.

"My little virgin bride to be" he laughed biting my nipple softly.

"Yes, I want to be your wife" I moaned.

"Do you want to try?" He asked pushing his hard cock into my hand. I stood up alittle and let him hold his cock against my hole. As I lowered myself I felt only pressure. Then my asshole gave way and the head of his cock slipped in. Pain shot thru me. I tried to stand up but my legs gave way letting more of his cock slid into my ass. I moaned and cried.

"It's alright Mohammed assured me" he kissed me and dried my tears. I sat very still the pain subsided a bit. I started to move alittle.

Mohammed reached down and rubbed my hard dick. As he did I moved more.

"You like that, my love" he asked I just nodded. The more. i moved up and down the more he rubbed my dick. I soon came all over his fingers.he presented his fingers to my mouth. I just shook my head.he rubbed his cum covered fingers across my lips.

"Open up" he ordered I opened my mouth a little and tasted my own cum as he pushed his fingers inside. We kept going until Mohammed stiffened and filled my ass with cum. Exhausted I fell asleep in his arms. I woke in the morning he was still holding me tight.

"Good Morning" he said kissing my neck. My ass still hurt.

"Mohammed I will be your wife" I told him. He started kissing me his cock grew hard and we made love. After we talked about what he expected of me. To be a traditional Arab wife.

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whatthefishh · 1 year

Text

Let Down Your Hair

A/N: okay listen, this is extremely self indulgent and you might think it’s boring but I was dealing with some pain and I wanted my babies. Probably the first of a series of extremely specific fics. @kittyofalltrades 🤍 ty for reading this over and being super sweet to me

Steven Grant (with mentions of Jake + Marc) x muslim!hijabi!reader

Pure fluff and TLC. Just over 1k. No warnings really. One word of Farsi, two in Spanish.

Everything always comes down to a long day of work, but after the day you had, all you wanted to do was go home to your boys and curl up on the couch, with food that you didn’t have to cook yourself, wearing the comfiest clothes you owned.

Crossing the threshold of your shared apartment, you couldn’t wait to take off your hijab and change into something more comfortable than your work attire. Your hair was just not cooperating, there was a pulsing behind your eyes and you desperately wanted a scalp massage. Kicking off your shoes, you didn’t even notice Steven (or was it Marc at the moment?) standing in the kitchen over the stove, looking up at your noisy entrance.

Groaning, you unpinned your scarf and flung it on the sofa on your way to the bedroom. Your mind was so focused on taking a hot shower, one hand absently rubbing the hair on the back of your head. Steven’s eyebrows shot up at the action but he didn’t comment. You were clearly having a hard time, and he was going to give you some space to take care of it until you finished but Jake didn’t let him.

Go help her!

“What d’you mean, she probably wants to be alone right now,” Steven mumbled back.

She could use your hands, our bebita looked tired, Jake sighed in the headspace.

Washing his hands free of the fruit he finished prepping for you both, he left the bowl in search of you. Steven found you sitting on the edge of the bed with your head in your hands, folded almost in half as you shielded yourself from the light.

“Love? You alright?” He reached out a hand to your shoulder, watching as your head moved up to look at him with pain clear on your face. “What’s wrong? What can I do?”

“Steven, my head…”

“Another migraine?” You nodded slowly. “I’ve got just the thing.”

You felt his presence leave you, waiting for him to come back with whatever he thought might help you. The lights in the apartment dimmed, and he also shut off the TV that was on earlier, making the space much more relaxing for you.

But still, he didn’t return.

After some more shuffling, he finally came back to you, gently urging you to the floor in front of the bed. You weren’t in a state to question him so you complied with your eyes closed, the map of your apartment ingrained to memory by now.

The sounds in the apartment were amplified with your decreased vision. You could hear Steven’s deep breathing behind you. The unmistakable sound of a pump being pressed, liquid gushing out. Hands slapping together, rubbing. The smell of lemons, rosemary and jasmine hitting your nose. Your head was still pounding, hair still falling uncomfortably, but you were able to breathe easier.

Steven’s hands worked themselves into your hair, his digits combing through to coat the strands in the oil he had grabbed from the bathroom. The pads of his fingers started working in circular motions, moving across your head from your hairline to the nape of your neck, pressing his thumbs in when he reached there. You couldn’t help the pathetic sound you let out, and Steven sniffed out a laugh in response.

He repeated this motion until you felt like he had lifted all your roots and soothed them with the oil treatment, his deft fingers providing you with such relief that you couldn’t even open your eyes if you wanted to at that point.

See, told you she needed help. Jake was so smug for someone who sat back and watched Steven do all the work. Marc was taking mental notes.

Head still hanging between your shoulders, he continued to gently massage your neck until he kissed your head and pulled you to stand, guiding your drowsy figure to the shower.

Leaving you to rinse the day and hair oil away, he went to find some comfortable clothes for you to change into once you were finished. Steven dug through your basket of clean clothes - why did you have a full basket of clean - never mind. He would help you put them away later. Finally settling on a pair of soft cotton pajamas, he laid them out on the bed for you. He was going to wait for you on the couch and try to pick something for the two of you to watch until it was time for dinner.

On the other side of the wall, you were going through the motions of your regular shower but with half your mind present. The other half was with your partner, thoughts focused on the man in the living room and how sweet he treated you always. Your fingers combed through your hair, working on detangling what you could with your conditioner as the hot water sprayed on your back.

Finishing sooner than you thought - how long were you in there actually you had no concept of time - you walked out in a daze, only to find one of your favourite sets waiting for you. Slipping into the cozy clothing and drying your hair lazily, you finally walked out to see your favourite person.

“Delbar*?” You called out to him.

“In here, love.”

Turning the corner as you approached him, Steven looked up at you with such tenderness that you wanted to cry. This adorable, generous man, who you realized you didn’t even greet when you came home, came to your aid with zero hesitation and made you feel so pampered.

Joining him on the couch and burrowing your way into his side, his arms came around you soon enough to hold you close as you decided on what movie to watch for the evening.

Later, sometime between the first and second heist in Fantastic Mr Fox, after sharing the fruit he had so thoughtfully cut up for you, you thank him, peppering his face with kisses the way Marc hates. You have a feeling he actually feels really good when you do it but isn’t used to it, so you take advantage of Steven allowing you to, getting all the cute aggression out of your system (impossible). Jake has a nasty habit of doing it right back but deliberately being extra sloppy when he does so you’re left feeling like a dog licked your face, and you didn’t want that fresh out of the shower.

“Princesa…”

Uh oh.

*Delbar = my heart / my love / the one who holds my heart

#steven grant fluff #Steven grant x reader #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight fluff #moon knight imagine #steven grant imagine #steven grant my beloved #moon knight x you #steven grant x you #mona writes???

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walrus150915 · 5 months

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Hey it's been a while I posted here right

I have my own reasons for that (school) SO UMMM SORRY FOR NOT BEING HERE THAT OFTEN!!!!

The meal I made for you today has been cooking in my head for a while actually but the reason I post it now is bc I saw a post of one artist I follow who drew genderbent Goldenheart and!!!! Let me say!!!! My hand slipped

How I think Ballister and Ambrosius would look as women (let's go lesbians let's go)

I am deeply sorry for messing up Goldenloin's armour, I confused two shades of yellow😭

Basically no changes except the facial hair?? Oh yep and Ballister's a hijabi😎

I have thought about whether I should make Boldheart wear hijab but the idea to draw it as an upside-down shield (shield is Ballister's symbol according to the artbook) won me over😭 plus I made it look like his own hair shape from the side!

Drawing Ballister's face without his moustache was a challenge tbh😭😭 his facial hair is what completes his look and he looks weird without it

This little thing I made grey in the drawing? It's not hair, it's the first fabric under the brown one. I wanted it to resemble Ballister's haircut but also like not really

Now, to Ambrosius ig???

Nothing too complicated, it's basically him but with bigger chest and some resemblance of hips (have you seen my man? His cake so small it isn't even a cake)

I also like the idea of longer hair but like. You can't take away lesbian's undercut, she will collapse to the floor and dissolve

Idk guys imo if Ambrosius were a woman he'd be a soft butch or something ajzjajjeje😭😭😭

These lovelies together bcuz of course. Nothing is as lesbian as chopping your lover's arm off

(If you think about it, original Goldenheart is already yuri enough)

So ummm yeah that's the end of the post. I have a fic to finish and a long night to spend, hope you enjoyed! <333

#nimona #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister boldheart #goldenheart #nimona fanart #genderbent #im myself culturally muslim btw #yes queer muslims exist surprise #im personally not a practicing muslim but ill kick ass for my brothers and sisters #let's go lesbians!!!!!#edit: “How I thinG” HELP #“CHRISTIAN OR JEWISH MUSLIMS” BRO WHAT... I MEAN QUEERS #💀💀💀#bro #dont let me post at night

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nowayelle · 3 months

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Whispers of destiny

Chapter 1

Wedding hells🔔

Bela's POV:

I'm a homebody, especially when it comes to avoiding weddings. People aren't really my scene. But hey, food? Now that's my jam. I rocked a pearl white dress with white scarf, and tauny brown khussa, feeling like my own version of Princess Jasmine. That's some serious self-love, right?

"Bit bright?" Aunty judged, rolling her eyes.

"Who?" I looked around innocently.

"Obviously, you, Bela!" She smirked firing back.

"Well, aunty pouring a white creamy sauce over brownie ever made brownie white? Or have you seen gulab jamun turning white upon pouring a sweet sauce? I fired back.

"You've got a point, but no one will marry you with that dark skin, beta," Aunty smirked, thinking she'd won.

"Thank God, I have dark skin, not a dark mind like them. So, that won't work out, Aunty. And please, don't worry about me." I laughed it off.

"No, beta, you're missing the point. White just doesn't suit you," Aunty persisted.

"I liked your 'Black Lives Matter' post on Facebook. Nice supporting black lives while bullying brown ones," I retorted, adjusting my hijab. Suddenly, aunty was saved by an imaginary caller - she vanished in seconds.

"Queenie, you dropped this," a teenage girl pretended to hand me a crown. We shared a laugh, that "don't-tell-us-what-to-do" kind. Meanwhile, the newlyweds exchanged glances while laughing.

Desi aunties, never letting up at weddings, always have something to say - weight, complexion, age, you name it. And don't get me started on their obsession with beauty remedies from YouTube channels predicting the world's end!

"Wait, let me guess, Samrina's daughter? All grown up!" Aunty excitedly guessed.

"Oh, Aunty, I remember you!" I tried to match her energy, figuring her out.

"Have you seen my mom?" I asked again.

"She was right there talking to a lady," she replied.

"Thank you so much!" I flashed a bright smile.

"Ammi," I grabbed her hand.

"Yes, beta? Is everything okay?" Ammi asked.

"Everything's fine, except me. I'm starving. When's the food?" I fake-cried.

Ammi chuckled. "What would people say? This girl's here only for food?"

"Exactly! You drag me to these events, and you know why I come." I narrowed my eyes playfully.

"What else can drag you out of your kingdom?" Ammi teased.

"Okay, let's eat something and go home," I suggested, heading to the buffet.

The spicy chicken tikka was so aromatic, blending perfectly with the environment. "Ready to go?" I wiped my mouth with a tissue.

"They'll say we were here just for food," Ammi joked.

"That's the truth. We were here for the food," I said, making an innocent face.

"Assalamualaikum, Aunty, how are you?" An unfamiliar voice interrupted.

"Wa alaikum assalam, Saad, beta," Ammi responded gently.

"Congratulations on your sister's wedding. They look good together," Ammi said, observing the couple.

"Jazakallah khayran, Aunty," he smiled.

I noticed some action that signaled a message between Ammi and me.

"Saad, uncle's looking for you," Hadeed interrupted.

As Saad hurried away, I couldn't help but notice his good sense of style, wearing white shalwar qameez, the classic Pakistani drama look. But I wasn't interested in checking him out. Whenever aunties ask me about what I look in a guy, I look away, i answer which always offends them.

As I adjusted my white embroidered dupatta, it got stuck somewhere. When I turned back, I saw him pulling away, and my dupatta got freed from his silver watch. My heart sank - what just happened? This was my choice of color today. How could someone with the same color scheme casually appear, and my dupatta get tangled in his stuff?

"Destiny?" I pondered. "Is this my Bollywood moment?"

"Haram, haram, haram," Mufti Menk's voice echoed. "Stop looking over there, stupid Bela."

"We gotta go," I grabbed Mom's hand, and we made our exit.

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specialagentlokitty · 2 months

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BAU headcannon: Reader who is Muslim and wears a Hijab

Please If your comfortable could you maybe write something where the BAU gets a new member who happens to be Muslim and wears a hijab, like what they would do or say if someone says something about it.... Or just in general how they would interact with her. - Anon💜

A/N: as I am not Muslim and I don’t know much about the culture or about wearing a hijab I’ve tried my best to write this as a headcannon, I hope it’s alright!

You’ll always be sure to get a warm welcome from Garcia, never fear because she’ll be happy to be your best friend from day one

Everybody else is happy to have a new helping hand on the team

The team, especially Hotch will try make any accommodations that you may need, especially for Muslim holidays

Thankfully Reid is well versed in many things, which means that he also knows exactly what to do in any kind of situation that may come up

There may be a lot of questions, the team don’t want to seem rude but they want to get to know as much about your religion as possible

At dinners, especially at Rossi’s you can be sure it is a 100% safe place and everything will be suitable for you

Undercover for whatever reason? Don’t worry you’ll always be paired with one of the ladies

They are extremely protective off you

They will not tolerate any discrimination against you

Someone’s says anything rude, offensive or racist? They’re ready to jump in

Derek is straight in front of you, telling whoever it is to start on him and see what happens

Emily is quick to shut them down, threatening them if she has to

JJ is right there beside Emily or Derek, ready to do whatever it takes to get this person away from you

Rossi is next to you, waiting for you to let him know he can jump in, he’ll be furious but he’ll follow your lead

Hotch is straight to getting ready to get this person fired, he doesn’t care about how far he has to dig in order to do it or how many heads he’s gotta go over

Reid isn’t much for confrontation but so help anybody who dares to speak ill to you, he will reign down hell of facts with some threats slipped in (and he’s already texted the whole team)

Garcia is immediately researching this person and any dirt on them she’s sending straight to your phone for you to use

After they’ll all check on you, make sure you’re okay and if they stepped out of line when defending you they will apologise

They know you can handle your own, but they don’t let any kid disrespect their family

They are all ready to join in on your holidays as well, learn about them and take part in them

They won’t make you take part in any holidays or events you don’t want to or can’t take part in

Rossi will learn to cook your dishes

Reid will learn how to speak and read your language so you aren’t alone (it wouldn’t surprise me if he already knows it though)

Garcia please oh please take her shopping with you, show her all your favourite outfits, show her EVERYTHING

JJ wants to know all about your home, your family, friends

They are all so down to go visit your family if you wanted them too, or come with you somewhere

You don’t feel comfortable going somewhere but need to go? Text anybody on the team and they’ll rock up so fast

They’re a huge family

Guess what?

You’re part of that family too

Oh and food

Please make them food, they’ll be so hyped to try your dishes

Be prepared for them wanted to help too, especially Rossi and Garcia

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you

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s4dstr4wberry · 6 months

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As a practicing muslim i'm guna have to disagree with you! Islam is actually a very beautiful peaceful religion. Arabian culture has made it such a horrible thing, forcing girls 2 dress how they dont want, do what they dont want and preaching it to be religion. It's hard to break out of cultural habits i personally see this in my daily life. Im not saying ur wrong or that u should be muslim or anythin jus sayin that the culture is not the religion and these 2 things should be distinguished between each other. <3

Islam is shit. Your prophet married a 6 year old and banged her at 9. The quraan gave men dominance over their women and allowed men to beat women. The prophet had a whole harem of women and allowed his followers to have 4 wives, he also told them they could rape the slave women they obtained in wars.

Mohammad spread islam with the sword. Those who surrendered had to join islam, if they were Christians or Jews they could keep practicing their religion by paying a tax and were treated like lower grade humans. If he was met with refusal, Mohammad would eradicate entire tribes and leave only the women and girls alive so they could be taken as sex slaves. Free women were told to wear hijab and cover their chests whereas slave women were forbidden from covering their chests and got beaten if they wore hijabs.

Slavery continued to thrive under islam. Some argue that islam encouraged the freeing of slaves in order to eradicate it over time. That’s not true, if a slave woman give birth to a child, that child would be the PROPERTY of her owner, so new slaves were constantly being born.

Argue as much as you want that “this is not the real islam” but it is. Muslims represent their book. They use it to justify their beliefs and actions. I live among muslims. Most are kind-hearted well-meaning people like you’d expect, but at the same time they’re antisemitic, homophobic, misogynistic and they see nothing wrong with it.

In a lot of muslim majority countries today, adulterers are stoned, apostates and blasphemers are killed, thieves’ hands are chopped off, homosexuals are thrown off of rooftops, and women are beaten and killed by their husbands, fathers, brothers for the stupidest shit.

Beautiful peaceful religion my ass. Also if you want proof of what I said lmk and I can give you quraan verses and verified hadiths. The peace and love is a facade to let islam fester in western countries and protect muslims as a “poor oppressed minority”.

Progressive muslims and ex muslims are the ones who are being oppressed because they want to reform and change islam for the better but islam does not accept change.

#🎀ask🎀

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blazersparker · 8 months

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My mom recounting her numerous car crashes ranked from best to worst as we drive on the highway while her hands r off the wheel to fix her hijab. An experience

#marbleztalks #i am so afraid of vehicles #i was sitting ther.e stupified beyond belief

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white-moon-kitty · 5 months

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Jewish Nathaniel Kurtzberg headcanons

It is canon that Nathaniel is Jewish, evident in his surname and absence from the Christmas special. However because "religion is a secular matter and cannot be portrayed in a children's TV show" (🙄), Nathaniel's heritage won't be represented in any of the episodes, so I'll be writing these headcanons.

Nathaniel (like Marinette, Adrien, and their classmates) was born between late 2000 and mid-2001.

The law on religious display in public schools (la loi sur les signes religieux dans les écoles publiques) was signed on March 15, 2004.

The law on face-coverings in public (la loi interdisant la dissimulation du visage dans l'espace public) was passed by the Senate on September 14, 2010.

TW for references of antisemitism and Islamophobia

Nathaniel's great-grandparents were German Jews who fled to France shortly before World War II

his family is not Orthodox but they are religious, they go to synagogue, celebrate the holidays, follow kosher, etc.

Nathaniel has always been a shy, quiet kid but his parents raised him to be assertive and to question authority if necessary

the first time Nathaniel realizes he is different is when he is three years old and starts preschool, during lunch he can't eat what the other children are eating in case the food is not kosher

his parents contact the preschool, who refuse to provide a kosher/pork-free option or let Nathaniel pack his own lunch, they compromise to let him go home for lunch instead

December rolls around, and the other children are excited about Christmas, except for Nathaniel, who is excited about Hanukkah but can't help but feel a bit left out

at six years old, another boy in his class starts running his hands through Nathaniel's hair out of the blue, "I heard that your people have horns, where are yours"

at eight years old, a girl in his class sees the gold Star of David necklace that Nathaniel always wears and starts bombarding him with questions

Nathaniel knows that she has no bad intentions but can't help feeling a bit uncomfortable and othered

at nine years old, during a class debate on the hijab ban, another boy says how anyone who wears their religious symbols are not truly French and should go back to where they came from, leaving Nathaniel flushing with shame and anger

at eleven years old, he begins attending Collège Françoise Dupont

on his first day of middle school, Principal Damoclés makes him remove his Star of David necklace

he is afraid but looks the principal straight in the eye and refuses, "this is my religion and my identity," he says, his heart pounding and his voice shaking

after a few more resists, Principal Damoclés suspends him

when he goes home to his confused parents, Nathaniel breaks down in tears as he explains Principal Damoclés suspending him on his first day of middle school for his necklace

his furious parents storm over to the school to confront the principal, demanding he allow their son back to school immediately and for him to wear the symbol of his religious pride

Principal Damoclés lets him back the next day but Nathaniel never wears his necklace to school again, only at home and in non-school settings

the day he returns to school, fellow classmate Alix Kubdel approaches him

Alix explains her family heritage: her family is of Algerian origin and Muslim, and while she can pass as white, her parents and brother have faced racism, Alix's mother have even had her hijab ripped off by an old white man on public transit and no one defended her

Nathaniel knows that he, as a white-presenting boy, cannot relate to the experiences of Alix or her mother, but appreciates having a friend who understands

he invited Alix to his bar mitzvah

he loves learning about the Holocaust, it is painful but his ancestors' strength and resilience make him proud, he can't stand how all of his classmates seem to stare at him during class whenever it comes up

in his third year, he is placed in Miss Bustier's class with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chloé Bourgeois, Sabrina Raincomprix, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Lê Chiến Kim and Max Kanté

when he arrives at school one morning he sees a swastika drawn in permanent marker on his desk, drawn by Chloé "Can't he make sushi like everyone else" Bourgeois

he reports it to a furious Miss Bustier, who sends Chloé to Principal Damoclés, who lets her off with a mere warning, which infuriates Nathaniel and his parents

as much as he wants to stay home from school the next day, Nathaniel is determined to not let Chloé win and shows up at school the next day

a sneering Chloé comes up to him, but before Chloé could open her mouth, fellow classmate Marinette Dupain-Cheng spoke up

"you suck, Chloé." Marinette glares at the blonde. "you speak of him as if he is below you, but he's got more nerve in his finger than your entire body"

Rose and Juleka join in, "Leave him alone, Chloé" "go pick on someone your own size, someone with an overinflated head like you"

Chloé started bullying Marinette

meanwhile, Nathaniel starts to fall for Marinette and becomes closer to Rose and Juleka

in the middle of his fourth and final year, he gets over his crush on Marinette/Ladybug and instead starts falling for Marc Anciel, with whom he works on their Ladybug comics

he confides his feelings for Marc to Alix

"you might be bi or pan," Alix, who is aromantic and an expert in LGBT terminology, explains to him

he first comes out as bisexual to Alix, who is nothing but incredibly supportive and proud of her best friend

Rose and Juleka (canon girlfriends!) are the next to know, and he grows closer to the girls than ever

Nathaniel is hesitant to come out to his parents, however: he feels like he is betraying the Jewish identity his parents instilled in him since childhood by coming out to them

he begins to research queer Jewish identity on the Internet and hears stories of others from all across the globe, who are queer, Jewish and proud

Nathaniel eventually asks out Marc, who agrees to be his boyfriend and he is happier than ever

Marc isn't Jewish but is more than happy to learn about Jewish culture and to fight anyone who dares to say anything antisemitic, whether about Nathaniel or not

since he started dating Marc, Nathaniel gains the courage to come out to his parents, who immediately accept him, much to his pleasant surprise

"you are our son, and our religion accepts everyone," his father says

"love is love, and if this boy Marc makes you happy, that's all that matters," his mother says

he gets into the same design school as Marc and Marinette for high school

in his first year of high school, he and Marc finally publish their Ladybug comics, which quickly become successful

towards his final years of high school, he begins studying for the baccalauréat while continuing his relationship with Marc and their comics and applying for his birthright trip

on his final year of high school, he passes the bac littéraire along with Marc and Marinette, and the three reunite with their middle school friends to celebrate

soon after graduating high school, he leaves for birthright (Alix cried buckets of tears at the airport)

the trip is the best ten days of his life, Nathaniel feels at home as he connects with other French Jews and Jews from across the globe and visits the cultural sites

shortly after his return to France, Nathaniel invites Marc to the Seine, where he gets down on one knee, much to the latter's delight (they both cry tears of joy that night)

his and Marc's wedding was the most beautiful day ever, they have a traditional Jewish wedding filled with ketubah, chuppah, glass breaking, joy, light and love

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mlmxreader · 2 months

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Sleep With Me | Farah Karim x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Seeing you trying to get some prompts going- I really appreciate the time you take to create these things, so if I may- Please write one for Farah Karim x !GN Reader for prompt 18? 🥺 - @thesnowurzikdjinn ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Farah actually get time to be a married couple, for once.

: ̗̀➛ swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The sun had gone completely, hidden behind dense and thick charcoal clouds as rain hammered down so hard that it bounced back up off of the ground; it was a harsh, forcible, storm that made the wind scream against the windows with desperate howls and wails.

Yet hidden amongst one of the buildings, a light brown almost yellow colour on the outside with blue interior walls and wooden floors, you and Farah were firmly snuggled up against one another.

Her head was on your shoulder, her silk light purple hijab occasionally tickling your chin when you moved your head, her hand on your stomach as she held one leg across your hips.

Half asleep, she would murmur and grumble when she spoke, her eyes half lidded and watering when she yawned; you didn't mind, one arm around her and the other gently laid on the hand on your stomach, almost dozing off yourself if it wasn't for the programme playing on the laptop.

She rarely got days like that, days where she could be a normal person for once instead of having to fight tooth and nail for the very basics of her country; for freedom and independence and justice.

She worked so hard, you were glad when there were days she could actually sit down for once. A brave and intelligent Commander, Farah often worked herself into the ground when she fought; but for today, she could relax, and you were more than thankful for it.

To see her dressed in normal clothes instead of military gear was quite the sight; even if it was nothing special, just a pair of joggers, fuzzy socks and a hoodie, she still looked like the most gorgeous woman you had ever laid eyes on. You couldn't help but to grin, hardly even paying attention to the laptop anymore.

She shifted with a groan, stretching as she pulled herself away slowly, reluctantly.

"Where you going?" You asked softly.

"I won't be long..." Farah yawned, stretching her arms above her head.

"Don't go... don't go... please... I need you here... please," you begged softly, which only made her laugh as she gently kissed your forehead.

"I'm only going to the bathroom," she reassured softly. "I'll only be a second, habibi."

You settled back down, watching her leave the room and wondering if she was going to text Alex to ask him how things were going; due to the storm, everything had been shut down, and Alex was in charge of ensuring the safety of the soldiers as well as the civilians.

Everyone had to take the proper precautions - no one was allowed lower than the second floor of any building in case it flooded. Everyone had to be hunkered down, plenty of provisions and necessities given out by Farah's men to ensure that everybody was safe and could see out the storm.

You shifted around a little bit, getting comfortable right as Farah returned; immediately, she snuggled into your side again, closing her eyes as she sighed softly. She had taken her hijab off, knowing that there wouldn't be any visitors for certain and hardly able to stay awake.

"I'm glad you're my spouse," she murmured softly. "You know that, don't you?"

You nodded, trying not to giggle and grin. "Of course I do. I love you."

"Good," she said quietly, slowly starting to drift off again. "What were we watching again?"

"It's a detective show," you said with a yawn. "Based in Baghdad... it's got that actor you like."

"Which one?" She asked.

"Farah Nabulsi," you replied with a long yawn, "she's playing the lawyer..."

"We can always rewind," she hummed, pressing her face to the side of your neck and holding onto you tightly.

The exact same way she always did when she was about to fall asleep. It made you smile a little as you leaned into her, letting your body go limp as you closed your eyes; you tilted your head back against the pillows, knowing that she was definitely falling asleep when her knee met the spot just below your stomach, her leg between yours.

She always cuddled into you like that.

You smiled, listening to her breathing; it got softer and more even, a gentle rhythm that settled against the side of your neck warmly; you felt her arm go limp as she snuck her hand under your shirt, her fingertips warm and making you flinch a little at the sensation, just ticklish enough to get your attention.

You loved being able to sleep with her; to feel her warm breath against your skin and to know that she was there with you, beside you, and that she wasn't going to go anywhere any time soon. Your phone buzzed, but you ignored it, your head spinning for a moment before you dropped off.

Farah would never complain about it, but she did wish you would snore a little quieter; she knew not to take it for granted, though, tomorrow was never a guarantee for either of you, and being able to hear you snoring as you slept - even if it woke her up - was a blessing more than anything.

She pressed her face against your neck a little more, her hair tickling your skin and making you shift around a little.

But neither of you minded much, more than anything just grateful for being able to sleep together. To actually be a couple instead of a soldier and a Commander. It was a blessing to be able to be a normal married couple for once instead of soldiers.

Even if it was only for one night, and even though tomorrow was not a guarantee and never would be. But you could die easily and happily if Farah was asleep beside you and holding onto you; you both knew that.

Still, there was no doubt that in the morning, the laptop would be on the floor after falling off the edge of the bed and Farah would be sprawled out on top of you. That's how it always was, and there would never be anything more beautiful than the mundane.

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