#yasmeena:thread

[loveisliquor]

@larcse​

she shouldn’t drink so much. she knows it-- shouldn’t let the vodka cloud her judgement, but she let’s it whisper into her ear. until she’s sliding on lingerie and slipping on a coat. she knocks on his door with all the confidence of a sleep deprived, tipsy--heart broken girl. the smile on her lips is cat like, when he finally opens the door. she’s missed him--in a way that feels visceral. she feels hungry--- she feels desperate-- and she doesn’t know what to do with the swirling in her gut. “are you alone?” she tilts her head slightly. “because for the conversation i imagined you’re going to need to be alone.”

[loveisliquor]

@dirtyflcwers

Yasmeena nods at his words. “I will. I’m trying. It’s.... I have a lot of people depending on me. I’m speaking to a therapist though. Believe it or not... just 2 is a lot better.” She hasn’t told him much about her anxieties— doesn’t normally speak to anyone about them really. She gives him a small smile when he kisses her knuckles— the soft affection makes her warm inside. She wonders how she’s never noticed that he’s always taking care of her— maybe that’s why she came. Because she knew he would— because he felt safe enough for her to let him. “ you have to come to bed too.” She gives him a warm smile— let’s herself sink into this sensation. It’s foreign and new. Letting someone care. The pet name catches her off guard but she finds that she likes it. Enough to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Let’s get warm habibi...”

[loveisliquor]

“why do you always... do this?” yasmeena’s voice is quiet--her hands press against the condensation on the glass in front of her. she uses it to ground herself-- to get the words out. “you always hit self destruct when things are getting good-- when things are getting....real.” she exhales slowly. “why? who hurt you? and why do you seem so fucking intent on hurting me?”

[loveisliquor]

open to m/f/nb (friend/significant other/fwb/anything.) 

she likes when they fight. this one was a strange one-- tempers flaring-- shouting, and for no real reason. they liked to crawl underneath her skin and make a home there. there’s something about the challenge, the push and pull of it-- that get’s her wet-- get’s her soaking in minutes. she doesn’t know if they know-- how riled up they get her. she can feel every hair of their body as their arm brushes by her and it takes everything in her, not to press her body against theirs-- not to end the argument with her mouth pressed against their own or bent over their lap. 

“listen. if all you want is another pointless fight with some lapdog who will accept your asinine friends then i suggest you find one of your henchmen. i’m not here for your entertainment.” 

she scoffs softly and goes back to glaring at the large text book seated in her lap. she feels their eyes on her and it causes her to straighten her back a little-- her body is aware of the attention in the worst way.

“staring is rude.”

[loveisliquor]

@twentyshxdes

she’s not the emotional kind-- at least not overtly emotional --but she finds herself almost crying when she wakes up to his familiar presence in bed with her. “mm-- habibi-- did you just get back?” she turns to face him, kisses the tip of his nose, ignores the gray area they don’t talk about. like how they almost fucked on the couch--and how much she wants him to fuck her on the couch (or anywhere else--to be honest). he is here, and in one piece and she’s grateful. she tangles their limbs together. “welcome home.”

[loveisliquor]

@fiightnights

needling him probably isn’t going to get yasmeena the answers she needs--and if she’s brave enough she’ll admit that lurking in the middle of a deserted boxing gym late at night isn’t simply because she wants her lead. she’s had better leads. but she slips in anyway-- and asks him questions between sings waiting for his facade to crack. it takes longer than she’d like. 

“you know it’s exceedingly rude to pretend i’m not here. have you seen my hair-- it’s impossible to ignore this hair.” 

she gives him a large smile and rests her hands on her hips. she takes a few more tentative steps towards the punching bad. 

“you promised you’d answer my questions yet here i am--dressed in gym wear for nothing. you won’t even let me hold the bag--i’m not a fragile little doll--you know? i don’t do well with orders.” she isn’t the whiney kind, she’s seen enough horror in her life-- been subject to enough searching looks-- unnecessary random searches and hungry--hungry children to not whine about things. she’s pragmatic in the way displacement often requires you to be. she’s softened her edges slightly but still pragmatic. 

that’s why her whining-- playful albeit--disturbs her a little. 

“c’mon dude.”

[loveisliquor]

@supernatxrals

“long time no see. ?” she smirks up at orion. “one crazy night and a few play dates--sans you of course and that’s it? are you still mad that i killed you on the dance floor? don’t be butt hurt-- it doesn’t suit you.” she gestures to the seat opposite her, and let’s her smirk turn into a warm smile. “sit.. sit.” 

[loveisliquor]

@letitreiign​

“you’re staring.” her hair is crackling with magic as she scribbles down more notes than is humanly possible. her face is half hidden by the giant tome, but her ridiculous curls poke over the top, make it obvious to anyone who knew her-- who it was hiding behind the book. “i can feel you staring and it’s making finishing this impossible.” brown eyes look up, and over the edge of her book to stop a familiar gaze. “why do i feel like you’re here to distract me---intentionally?” she levitates her pen without saying a word, and aims it--like an arrow--at their head. “confess.”