#(i don't feel like that anymore but it's still an important part of how i perceive myself)

[lycheeloving]

another continuation of this AU, this time; yandere!Superman!

-I think he takes you out of the Watchtower sometimes to go on picnics (in super secluded areas). He's fast and strong enough for you to have absolutely no chance of escaping and he thinks it's important for you to spend some time in nature! Yes the Watchtower is built in a way so you get the perfect amount of sunlight in there and there are a lot of plants in the darlings common room, but going outside on planet earth is important to him! To get some fresh air! Walk around a bit! It's a wonderful reprieve from being in the same place all the time, but has the unfortunate side effect that every time the word "picnic" is mentioned you perk up like a dog who heard someone say "treat".

-Will fly you there. If you enjoy it he's happy that you two have that in common and that you're having fun with him, but if you're afraid of heights he's also happy, because you're holding him so tightly. It's a bit like a little trust exercise to him! Look, he won't drop you! See? You know you can trust him, right? :)

-You're so cute and weak to him, he needs to protect you!! In comparison to him, everyone is weak, but with you his protector instinct goes completely haywire. You'll have to deal with him hovering next to you and telling you to be careful all the time, even if you're not doing anything dangerous. Like using a fork. (It could easily pierce your skin!!)

-Absolutely loves cuddling with you when you're sleeping. Like to fall asleep he has to has his arms around you, or better yet you lying on top of him. I also headcanon that when he feels safe and content he starts flying/hovering a bit in his sleep, so sometimes you'll wake up to find you're not on the bed anymore. But don't worry he won't let you fall, even in his sleep he's holding on to you.

(Sometimes you worry he'll lose control in his sleep and hug you too tightly and accidentally kill you, but luckily he's spent all his life learning how to control his strength + his subconscious recognizes that it's you he's holding, so that won't happen. Phew! But you still worry sometimes, like after watching him rip open a car on the news as if it was made of paper. What if one day he gets tired of you and... No. That won't happen... right?)

-Probably the softest with his darling out of all of them. Tries very hard not to overwhelm you.

-That said, he tries his best to control his powers around you as to not be intimidating! He wants you to see him as just some guy. If your universe doesn't have a Superman you don't even realize how powerful he is until you see him fight against a villain on TV. What do you mean Clark can do all that stuff?? You knew he could fly, sure, but laser eyes and super strength? You had no idea! (Clark doesn't like it when you watch the news, but Flash turned them on in the common room to show his darling "how heroic he was today", so for once you were able to watch them).

-Hopes you never find out about his superhearing. Or at least about the fact that he's literally listening to you all the time. Doesn't matter where he is, part of him is always focusing on your heartbeat to make sure you're ok and exactly where he left you. He thinks that would probably freak you out a lot and he'd rather not make you upset. (Won't stop though.)

-Teaches you a lot about Kryptonian culture. It's important to him, so you should know about it as well! Especially as his partner! Might make you wear some kryptonian fashion, probably something that signifies that you're in a relationship with him. Maybe even something that implies you're married to him. Might not even outright tell you what it means before giving you the clothes and you have to piece it together yourself after a bunch of kryptonian lessons.

[whereserpentswalk]

Remember that supporting nonbinary people means supporting nonbinary people who don't medically transition, or who don't look androgynous, or who don't dressed differently from what's expected of their assigned gender.

And when I say "support nonbinary people who don't differ in presentation from their agab" I don't just mean fully medically transitioned transmasc femboy or transfem butches (though those people are cool and valid). You have to support people who don't medically transition, and that doesn't just mean naturally androgynous afab people who fit a butch tomboy aesthetic, or naturally androgynous amab people who fit a femboy aesthetic (though those people are valid and cool), you have to support nonbinary people whose appearance doesn't fit into any aesthetic of nonbinaryness. And not just people who plan to medically transition, or dress differently someday, you have to accept nonbinary people whose presentation is probably not going to change.

There are a lot of nonbinary people who just kind of look like cis men or cis women, and you have to accept that they're still nonbinary, that they're still valued members of the community. Nonbinary isn't an aesthetic for you to consume, it's not something people perform for you. It's an internal identity, and it's a community. We don't choose to be nonbinary (most of the time), and we shouldn't have to look a certain way for who we are to be recognized.

It even goes into the way nonbinary people (and trans people in general) are complimented, where it's always so focused on how alien the complimenter sees them as. It's always "girlcock", "boy boobs", "they/them pussy", it feels so fetishistic. And it's not even about how sexual it is, like "UwU you're such a cute genderless girlboy" feels more fetishistic than "you have dick sucking eyes". It's this focus on how the viewer enjoys them specifically as a deviantion from what they consider a normal human, as opposed to just being attracted to someone who happens to be a deviation from what most humans are. Like, I want to see someone express attraction to a nonbinary person, as opposed to just being attracted to nonbinary people as a concept. Like can people on here even really be attracted to transfem penises as penises anymore, like be attracted to them as sexual body parts they presumably want to interact with sexually, as opposed to fetishizing them as masculine body parts on a woman.

And I use chasers as an example because it's both obvious and way too common. But this acceptance without humanization is so common in so many queer spaces, and it's specifically so common twords nonbinary people. The focus on bodies, and the focus on how those bodies differ from from what someone considers as normal. As opposed to focusing on human beings and their experiences. And I think it's why it's so hard for people to accept nonbinary people who don't look diffrent from how their agab is expected to look and never will, because you have to accept experiences over aesthetics to support those people.

Like, I need to stress that if you meet a nonbinary person, whose afab, and isn't medically transitioned, and dresses femininely, you still have to accept that they're nonbinary, you have to accept that they're 0% female if they say they're 0% female. And its not just that you need to use their pronouns, you also need to not think of them as female. And I'm specifically using a non medically transitioned afab person as an example here because the internet, especially the queer internet, seems to have a specific hatred for those people (which combined with how transfem people are talked about, and how certain cis queer people are talked about, it makes me think a lot of the queer internet inherently sees feminine bodies as lesser, and sees bodies as losing value the more feminine they become).

And there's two things I mean by "it's important to support these people". The first is just that it's a lot of nonbinary people who are like this, and a lot of them are uniquely vulnerable or invalidated, and they deserve your support and love and validation. But also because if you don't support nonbinary people who don't "look nonbinary enough" for you, every nonbinary person you know is one failure to present in a way you deem valid away from losing your support. When there's a way someone can fail at nonbinaryness to you, than there aren't any nonbinary people you truly unconditionally validate.

I have to admit that I am a nonbinary person who looks a lot like their agab myself. Not telling you if I'm afab or amab, but I am telling you that I have no plans to medically transition, and I don't dress in a way that screams nonbinary. And it sucks in certain ways, especially now that I'm in my twenties and I've lost a lot of weight (both of these are things I'm happy about in general btw), I look so diffrent from what anyone wants to validate. The only time I see art of nonbinary people who look like me it's when they're specifically the opposite agab to me. It sucks that I feel like for at least 25% of the community will either always see me as basically the gender I was assigned at birth, or they'll basically see me as a binary trans person waiting to happen.

This was a lot of words and I don't know how to end it. Please reblog to support me and nonbinary people like me. It's going to be depressing to tag this a few moments from now and see just how many fetish tags you see recommended when you try to tag something with words like "enby" or "nonbinary". It fucking sucks that I see "#enby feedee" before I see "#enby pride".

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero chapter 7

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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: When you enter a dark building, you don't expect that you will face an enemy you haven't seen for a long time. One of them.

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, zombies/monsters, blood, gory

author's note: Finally! I'm back with a new chapter, I hope someone is still waiting for the next parts ^^ because I'm going to keep writing it anyway. Thank you for your comments, likes and reblogs. It means a lot to me.

And English is not my first language, so probably many things are poorly described and the vocabulary is very simple. If you see any mistakes - let me know!

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Chapter 7: The one with the Jaws

Day 738

You moved nervously in your seat, looking out of the car window towards the building that Ghost and Riley had entered some time ago. Time passed slowly, you seemed to have sat locked in the car for a good few hours. However, the still high-hanging sun made, if not reaffirmed, the belief that you hadn't spent much time waiting for the return of the two, now, closest living beings to you. You don't know yourself anymore who you were more worried about. Biting your lip nervously and still plucking at the already ragged fabric of your gloves, you continue to stare into the dark entrance of the building. You still can't see any light or movement in it. Nothing. Darkness. Ghost has told you to sit in the car. Of course, on the one hand, you perfectly understand his behaviour towards you. Seeing how insecurely you hold your gun, generally how clumsy you are and practically know nothing. And most importantly, he still simply didn't trust you - because he didn't know you. You understood this and sat there, stuck in the car, even simply for your own safety, but perhaps more so to make Ghost's job easier. At least he didn't have to stay busy and watch out for you. He could concentrate on keeping an eye on Riley and, more importantly, dealing with whatever was lurking ahead of you in the dark corridors of this building. But on the other hand, you felt frustrated because you felt that you were no longer who you used to be. You've re-learned how to live in these bizarre conditions, and you want to feel that you can be of some use, that your presence here is somehow important. Needed.

But at some point, it is a kind of relief that you don't have to worry about another day, about yourself. That you don't have to fall asleep praying for at least one quiet night and passing at least one hour, not waking up suddenly for any reason, any slightest unknown sound.

Now, the thought comes to you that you are already worried about yourself. Somehow, after all you've been through, all that has happened to you over the past months. You finally feel the sense and desire to somehow take care of and surround someone else with care. With that, you catch yourself staring at an empty open door, not just worried, just about your dog. But for someone who was just as much alive as you were.

Well, you're sure the dog will do just fine. Whatever he had to deal with there in that dark space. Whatever could stand hostile , against Riley. It certainly won't come out defensively in a clash with your dog. You've seen it, from the day you saw him, after those two years, there at the tower . Not only has he grown, he has matured because of his age. But he was simply well-trained. This was not only your small contribution because since he came to your house you took great care of his development and training.

But the dog's behavior around Ghost, how obediently it obeyed commands, how faithfully it guarded you and the man, how docilely it wandered past your or the man's leg, and with what aggression and persistence it tried to reach whatever was in the basement. This only reinforced your belief that the dog was being properly looked after. Ironically, the only winner in this new reality, in this new world, is Riley. Well cared for, fed, trained.

And most importantly, surrounded by respect and -

love.

With each passing minute, you slowly pull and tug harder and more vigorously at the already badly damaged glove material. Your lower lip is bitten so hard that it begins to bleed. Finally you admit to yourself that all this nervousness is due to such a trivial reason.

You are worried about that damn drunk.

About the man who wanted to kill you without even exchanging a word with you. But ultimately you are worried about Ghost. About the one who, despite everything, welcomed you into his home and let you stay.

Shaking your head, you try to get rid of these thoughts. It's so stupid. To worry about someone who probably, if he saw your cold, emotionless and lifeless body. He wouldn't even spend a second thinking about who you were. Without any thought or pity for you. He probably wouldn't even look. He would just move on, as was his habit. Somewhere to a designated destination, a defined place.

Or maybe it was just a façade, maybe somewhere under that bizarre mask was a real, feeling person. Silly you, you hoped so. But that's what you shouldn't bother with, and most importantly, that's not what's most important in all this.

Survival. That's what matters.

Survival instinct. Primal, natural, just plain animalistic.

So as you slam the door behind you and try to bravely and vigorously walk to the building, you repeat one thought in your head. Your continued survival depends on this man, you must hold on to him. You can't let him die. Or worse, turn into one of them. With this thought, of simply surviving, you marched to the entrance of the building.

Because if Ghost were no longer there, any hope for any future was virtually nil. Rather, the pool of dumb luck you've had for the past two years has definitely run out. You won't be able to survive another dark and cold winter alone. You won't even be able to survive another month alone.

That's what you were sure of. You were never a strong and courageous person. And living in constant fear, with your heart rate perpetually racing, with adrenaline constantly high was not something you were used to. You didn't feel the motivation, the will to survive, the fight for each new day. Quite the opposite. All this, each successive sleepless night, the constant search for food, medicine, safe shelter made you feel immense resignation, chronic fatigue and, above all, a sense of the meaninglessness of your existence. Because it's hard to call life what you've been doing these past 24 months. Vegetation. Like a little calf left without its mother. No idea how to survive, how to live.

Holding a pistol in one hand, taken from the glove compartment of the car, and holding a small hand-held flashlight in the other. Slowly, being careful with every step you take, you enter the building. As soon as you cross the threshold, you are overwhelmed by darkness. It's not good. Shivers run through your body. Step by step you try to walk silently into the depths of the narrow corridor. On each side, left as well as right, there are doors.

Although it's daytime you can only see the places you illuminate with your flashlight, and in places through gaps in the door or some open doors, single rays of sunlight reach you. The building is also silent. It's definitely not good.

It's too quiet.

You can't hear the barking of a dog or the quick and heavy footsteps of a man. You slowly and steadily check each room, but only those to which an open or half-open door leads. There aren't many on the first floor. The rooms you check are usually empty, or there are isolated objects like a chair, a cabinet or a desk. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust and usually carelessly placed somewhere in disarray in the room.

Apparently, the building stood empty long before Day Zero. Maybe that's not so bad after all. Placing your feet carefully on the dusty and dirty floor, advancing to the last open door on this floor you finally hear something. Stopping at the ajar door and holding your breath, you try to focus on the sounds reaching you.

Adrenaline and a rapid heartbeat make it difficult to hear exactly what is happening in the distance.

But you can definitely hear something.

Like the shifting of something on the ground, the steady and long clatter of something heavy on a dirty floor. As if someone was pulling something, moving something. Maybe some furniture was moved, or maybe it was-

What if someone gets hurt? Directing the small light of your flashlight at your feet, you walk towards the narrow stairs at the end of the hall. What if you wait too long in the car and something terrible happens?

As you hurry every two steps, you don't worry about them hearing you. Your ears are ringing more and more often. Your increased pace, not only caused by your sudden mounting fear but also by the effort of climbing the stairs at a fast pace, causes you to hear nothing but your own tired body for a moment. You stop for a moment between floors. Listening. If you hear this rustling, it means someone is there. There definitely has to be someone here. Alive.

What if someone attacks and Ghost gets hurt or the dog needs help? There is such a possibility. No. You hope not. It definitely couldn't be Riley. You quickly push away that terrible thought and climb the stairs again, skipping some steps to get higher faster. You finally reach the penultimate floor, and here the sound finally becomes louder, more audible.

Now you can hear it clearly.

Trying to calm down a bit and control your tiredness, you stop on the last step, trying to breathe through your nose, but your poor state causes the exhaled air to come out of your mouth, much too loudly. Despite your sincere intentions, you cannot remain unnoticed. The shuffling stops suddenly. As with breathing, the air remains in your lungs and your slightly parted mouth closes quickly. You hesitantly direct the light of your flashlight towards the corridor and-

It's been months since you last saw one of them. And that was from quite a distance. Long months allowing you to erase that monstrous image in your mind. At least wipe out a little of the horror that was your daily life in the first weeks. With each passing day, the number of infected - or perhaps already-dead, multiplied with each sunset. More and more.

Their screams, the inhuman sounds they made of themselves, it was something that not only caused a nervous shaking of your whole body. And so simply did not let you fall asleep, did not allow you to close your eyes at least for a few minutes.

Terror, mixed with fear. That was your everyday life then.

After that day, when you decided to end this agony, your miserable life - and what you failed.

Their horrifying screams stopped. At least for you.

And even today, you remember the first time you met them. The first contact with those things. It was something so terrifying, inhuman and unreal. That it stuck in your memory, permanently blurred in your brain, and the image stayed in your mind, probably accompanying you and will always be there. That recollection lasted with you, even though you tried so hard to forget it. Pretend it was a nightmare or a scene from a movie.

Day 10

You

It was one of the first days when you were left completely alone at home. No TV, no internet, and not even a phone. You couldn't communicate with anyone or get any information - everything stopped working. Suddenly, in one day. And the chaos outside only intensified, increasing with each passing day. You were so panicked and paralyzed with fear that for the first few days you didn't even leave the house, didn't even look out the window.

Until one late afternoon, when it seemed that the commotion outside the window was slowly calming down. When the sun had already hidden behind the horizon, and you were preparing to take up shelter again in the basement, in one quiet and seemingly safe place. Unexpectedly, you heard someone's familiar voice in the distance, somewhere in the yard behind the house. Distorted, not quite human. But nevertheless still recognizable and familiar.

It was Rose. It had to be her.

She called out to you, you clearly heard your name. Without waiting a moment, you dashed to the back door by the kitchen. With no hesitation, you turned the locks and grabbed the handle. You quickly opened the old wooden door.

Immediately after opening the door and crossing the threshold, you regretted your decision. On the terrace steps, stood Rose. Or something that tried to imitate her. In stained, dirty and frayed clothes stood a pale, hunched figure. In her hair, there was no sign of her signature-amulet, a red pin with a rose, from which she took her nickname. The lush, long and dark hair on her head was gone. She was almost bald, her pale skull surrounded by a thin light shell, her skin almost translucent, through which, a web of dark veins could be seen. Twisted, in a strange way, the figure slowly walked towards you. It clumsily took steps, and a low, penetrating screech could be heard through its open mouth, from which a bizarre, dark liquid flowed.  Long, bright claws protruded from behind cracked, scarred lips. Which with each passing second seemed to extend even further. As if sensing your silhouette, they became bigger, sharper.

Maybe it was just an illusion, maybe the monster in front of you just opened its jaw even wider. A strange grimace merged with a murky liquid - resembling old, dirty blood. Dark maroon drops ran down his angular jaw, staining the light-colored cloth and dripping onto the wooden floorboards of the terrace. Frozen with terror, you stand motionless, not knowing what the hell to do. How to act properly. Run away, attack, scream, cry.

Anything. Something.

Millions of thoughts run through your head. No action seems logical or wise. With no time for further deliberation, when seemingly Rose has already approached you at arm's length.  Stumbling over the threshold of the door, you retreat a few steps into the depths of the house. Holding the door, you try not to fall over and close it.  Cutting yourself off this way and being as far as possible from the strange figure in front of you. The monster is already close to the threshold, shouting louder, the sound rumbling in your ears, reaching so deep that you wince at the unimaginable pain the horrible high-pitched sound causes.

You feel as if something is tearing apart your eardrums, as if it is trying to reach the farthest recesses of your brain, slowly tearing it apart. With a last effort to suppress the pain, at least for a moment, you try to slam the door.

Rose, however, is quick enough to push its head between the door and the doorframe, driving its sharp teeth into you. The dark liquid splashes not only around her, but single drops fall on you as well.

You push the door with your whole body to prevent it from opening wider and the strange figure from entering the depths of your home. Which until now seemed to be the only safe place. With one leg you block the door so that it doesn't move towards you and let Rose in. With the other leg, you lean against the wooden floor to stop the incredible force with which the monster is trying to force its entry into the house.

For some reason, there is a brief moment when Rose stops attacking, and at that exact second, with all your strength and power, you push the door in its direction, trying to close it. The monster's neck lands between the door and the doorframe, so you cut off its air supply. Rose stops screaming and after a few moments you feel its resistance weakening. However, seeing the monstrous figure in front of you, it is with what fury, madness in hungry eyes she looked at you. And she definitely wanted to attack and bite you - and thus probably kill you. Your anger grew.

Seeing that the inhuman figure has lost consciousness and is hanging inertly by the door. You fall into a fury unknown to you since that moment. You start opening and closing the door. The figure falls helplessly between a small space on the ground. And you, with unimaginable and unfamiliar fury and force, close and open the door so that the monster's neck and head are struck by the wooden door and, bouncing off it, hit the edge of the door frame.

Full of anger, you scream louder and louder, feeling a burning pain in your throat. Blood mixes with a strange jelly-like liquid. Forming a bizarre mixture at your feet. Hearing a loud crunch and already feeling less resistance, you nevertheless continue to bang the door against the lying figure with vigorous power.

Finally you stop and, sobbing, sit down on the floor. Terrified, you wipe your face and, seeing the terrifying image in front of you, you crawl backwards into the farthest corner of the room. To be as far away as possible. Not to smell the horrible stench emitted by the inert body. To be as far away as possible and not see the pool of blood mixed with a viscous gelatinous liquid, infected pieces of brain and shreds of skull bones. You cower against the wall covering your eyes, trying to hold back loud sobs and fear.

That day you killed for the very first time. Unfortunately, it was not the last time. It was just the beginning.

Day 738

With your shaking hand you direct the stream of light from a small flashlight to the direction you thought strange sounds were coming from just a moment ago. Now, hearing nothing but your own breathing and heartbeat, you wonder if this sound was not a creation of your imagination.

Unfortunately, it wasn't.

A pale, bony figure lurking behind one of the doors, now irritated by the small light from the flashlight, moves toward you. It rushes at you with a wide-open mouth in which long bright fangs shimmer, stained with the dark liquid you already know. You don't have a chance to do anything, it's happening so fast that you don't even think of pulling the trigger of the gun you hold in your hand.

The monster with high force hits you and causes you to fall on your back on the half-floor. The force of the impact is so great that all the air escapes from your lungs. Despite the loss of breath and the monstrous bou in the back of your body. Perhaps due to adrenaline triggered by fear, you try to fight back. With your hands you try to push the undead away. You hit it with your hands trying to at least push its distorted face away from you. You curl up on the floor, tilting your head from side to side. As you fall, a gun falls out of your hands and a flashlight, which also illuminates some stairs, dropped a few feet away from you.

Just so it doesn't bite you. If only its fangs dig into your skin, you're dead. It'll be end of you.

The monster opens its mouth wide, exposing fangs that have clearly been dipped into a living thing more than once. They're filthy, with pinkish bits of flesh visible in between. The dark substance lands on you. The undead spits blood at you and whatever the brown liquid coming out of it is. The stinky sticky substance is practically everywhere. On your cheeks, forehead, in your hair, on the fresh clothes you wore this morning. Writhing under this murderous form, you try to catch at least one breath of clean air, you try to move your legs to throw off your opponent.

All in vain.

You feel that you have less and less strength and soon you won't be able to push that overly contorted, monstrous face away. At one time it must have been a human being. But now, aside from its general physical features, it did not resemble a man, at least not a living one. It definitely hadn't been one for a long time. In torn clothes, without hair, with dark eye holes in place of eyes, with long and sharp fangs. With pale white, almost transparent skin, from under which dark veins could easily be seen. With each passing day, the thing that infected the human body transformed it more and more into a strange creature that only seemingly resembled a human. It looked as if the evolution of these creatures, instead of taking hundreds of years, had accelerated many times over. It was even difficult to recognize whether it was once a young man or an older woman. Maybe a teenager.

You can already feel your hands failing, losing energy and strength with each passing second. By the time the monster's face was close to your cheek, its breath could be clearly felt on your skin, and the penetrating odor prevented you from taking another much-needed breath. You stretch out your neck and tilt your head as much as you can to catch it, trying to make sure the figure above you doesn't bite you.

You close your eyes and pray in your mind to whomever, whatever god, that if at this moment, you'll end your life.  That it would at least take place quickly and relatively painlessly. You expect this bite to really hurt, maybe more than-.

To your surprise and confusion. You feel a thump, a push. A jerk and a sudden relief. The pressure of the body is no longer over you, your hands do not resist, you can move your legs freely.

You slowly turn your face away and carefully open your clenched eyelids. Somewhere nearby you hear muffled gasps and stifled squeaks. Ragging, tugging, tearing at fabric, some banging. However, the flashlight lies too far away to reach out and grab it. The building is too dark to see anything, whatever is happening further than a step away from you. Momentarily, all sounds stop. All you hear is your own heartbeat and rapid breathing, gasping. Not just your own.

Now that there's no adrenaline in your body, you slowly start to feel more and more pain in your body from falling down the stairs and hitting the ground. However, you don't have time to pick yourself up, to think about what hurts the most, if any bone was broken, and most importantly, if at some point the monster didn't bite you.

Before you have time to make any move to try to get up from the cold floor. Once again you feel the pressure on your body. However, this time it is softer. More human-

"Don't move."

It's Ghost.

"Are you broken?"

Asking this question, you feel him gently checking if your limbs are broken. Although you are still in shock you feel how efficiently and yet gently he touches first one hand then the other, gently squeezes and moves your arm, elbow checking if the joints are in place too. When you feel a gentle pressure on your right thigh you grimace gently, but try not to show any discomfort. When your legs are checked by him you feel him change positions and another sentence comes from his mouth.

"Now I'm going to touch your upper body, check your ribs and hips, okay?"

Without thinking, you nod.

Ghost grunts.

"Lucky me to have night vision. But don't pretend to be tough, kid, that fall must have cost you a lot. Tell me if something hurts you. I'll help you."

"O-okay, I'll tell you."

Fortunately, you don't feel any pain in your chest or hips. As Ghost checks your pupils and asks if you felt a bite and asks a few more questions about your wellbeing you feel yourself shaking with terror. The involuntary trembling of your arms, as well as the rest of your body, is out of control. Tears appear in your eyes.

"It's okay. Whoa, it's alright. I'll get you out of here and we'll go home. Hang in there a little longer. You did a good job."

Hearing these words you want to say something back but you're unable to, every sound trapped in your throat. All you can do is once again shake your head pathetically in confirmation. Ghost lifts you off the ground, doing it very gently and slowly. As if he is afraid that by any careless movement, you will break into millions of pieces. Despite your weight, he lifts you easily off the ground and without a word starts to walk down the stairs.

You sink your face into the hard material of his tactical gear, trying to control a sob. To your surprise, despite having you in his arms, the man walks with a quick and steady stride.

And extremely quietly. The rhythm you hear is a slightly accelerated pulse. His.

When he finally reaches the ground floor, he stops for a moment. Now that the corridor is lit up thanks to the open exit door, you notice Riley stopping by Ghost's leg. This puts you at ease. They both look fine and healthy.

"How are you feeling?"

Ghost's voice snaps you out of your reverie. He's different than before. Like he's more concerned, more nervous. Something is not quite right. Before you have time to answer anything, the man is almost running towards the exit of the building. Once you are outside, you squint your eyes, even though the events inside seemed to go on forever, it must have been a relatively short time, an hour at maximum, since you crossed the threshold and entered the darkness. It is very warm and bright outside, and the sun is still high in the sky. You involuntarily close your eyelids, the daylight makes you ache.

Ghost runs to the car at a very fast pace, and when he opens the car door he practically throws you into the passenger seat. He shouts to the dog, giving him a brief command to get into the back and, without waiting for the dog to react, he quickly makes his way to the car, getting behind the wheel.

Finally, as the car starts and pulls away, you open your eyes. Your eyesight has finally become adjusted to the day's prevailing brightness. Still, tears and something else prevent your eyes from fully and sharply observing the world around you. You feel that something wrong is happening. Something is definitely not right. So you try to find some clean cloth to wipe your misty eyes. Correct your vision to look at the man next to you in peace and figure out what's going on. Why he is acting so nervously and hurriedly.

But before you do, the answer to your questions you simply see.

You are covered in dirty brown blood.

Despite the blurry and blurry image from your tears, you look at the dark stains on your skin of your forearms and on the gray fabric of your clothes. In a panic, you start wiping your soiled skin against the fabric of your clothes trying to clean what has already dried on your body.

"Hey hey, take it easy, don't move. Try not to spread it, so it doesn't get into your eyes or into some wound on your skin."

Ghost grabs your arm with one hand and holds you down.

"Everything is fine as long as you're not hurt and nothing bites you - it's fine. Just stay calm. At home you will change and clean yourself up."

The rest of the way back you don't exchange a single word. You feel that Ghost looks at you every now and then but you don't have the courage to raise your head and look at the man sitting next to you. You stare at your hands placed on your knees which you clench nervously.

You try not to panic even more. However, you no longer know if you have been infected and the faster heartbeat, the slight nervous twitching and trembling of your limbs or jaw, are not due to the fact that you are already in transition. Or was it simply panic, fear and fatigue of the body after the horror you encountered in the building.

The way from the car to the house, and then how you found yourself in the bathroom, washed and changed into fresh new clothes. It was all like a blur. It's like you're not doing it yourself. Throughout this process, you are accompanied by Ghost's calm, subdued voice. It's how he reassures you, reiterates that everything is fine and that you should be careful to just wash the dried blood away and try not to smear it into your eyes or somehow into your mouth. Even when you are locked in the bathroom and slowly rinsing off the remnants of your recent struggle for life, the man's voice can still be heard from behind the closed door.

It's because of him that you don't panic even more. You don't do something stupid. Just calmly, like a robot that performs the actions programmed to it. You just simply do it.

As you now sit in the kitchen and warm food lands on a plate in front of you and hot tea steams in a mug next to you, you slowly return to reality. Beside your meal you notice a few pills.

Finally you lift your gaze and look at Ghost, who is leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest and watching you closely.

"Thank you."

This is the only thing you can think of at this point. Grabbing a spoon you scoop up a large portion of food and without waiting for any response from the man you begin to eat, at the same time you take the pills left next to it.

The meal goes on in silence, Riley sits next to Ghost and, as if copying his behavior, with his head slightly bowed, does not take his eyes off you. It's as if they are both waiting to see if you are about to fall to the floor in pain, screaming loudly and eventually turning into one of them. Nothing like that happens so far. However, this thought, doesn't allow you to calmly finish your meal. What if your heart is about to stop beating, what if the poison was already slowly in your bloodstream and is systematically turning your blood cells into sticky dead brown clots. What if-

"Come on, it's time to rest. It's been a long and fucked up day."

Ghost walks slowly toward the hallway expectantly looking at you. Drinking the last sip of tea, you get up from your chair and move slowly toward your room.

And so the three of you, you, Ghost and Riley find yourselves in a small space, your cramped and small bedroom.

"Lie down and try to sleep-" 

Ghost interrupts his speech, because Riley nudges him in the leg with his head, clearly signaling to him that he's not the only one here.

"You little bastard." 

Patting Riley on the back, the man finishes his interrupted comment

"Of course, me and Riley will be here all night. We'll be watching to see if anything bad happens to you. Are you okay with that?"

"'Y-yes, I think so."

You answer and slowly lie down on the bed, as soon as your head touches the pillow you feel your eyes slowly closing.

"You really have nothing to worry about, if you were to transform it would have happened long ago, it never takes that much time."

Ghost's voice gets quieter and softer, everything seems to slow down. Your breathing becomes more steady. Your eyelids are heavy that you no longer have the strength to open them. Besides, the bed is so soft and comfortable that you don't even want to change it. With your last effort, before sleep has completely overtaken you, you add barely audibly.

"I know, it should be painful. It hurt so damn much back then. Now it feels good. I just- I was just scared. I didn't want to die yet."

You don't hear Ghost's answer anymore, as you fall into a deep sleep.

taglist:

@leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles @vmaxis@poohkie90 @ghostlythots @nobodys-coffee @famouscattale @youdontneedtoknow1226 @pimpinsins @justguessfan @novasilvae @pausbirudanlumbalumba @ella2497 @lunamoonbby @sams-pineapples @tonylagsagne @lurkinwbreexy @azkza @mooseblooddd @mroman0111

[variousqueerthings]

something i havent seen (im sure it's out there i just havent seen it) is that while a part of louis and claudia's relationship is of course very much framed by how claudia is constantly made to be in second place to louis' romantic partners (who are also not good to her or to louis) is the way that they're family, and it's complicated, but ultimately - i think - a positive family for one another, rather than the kind of family you leave and never speak to again if you can help it (that would be lestat...)

whether louis is father/mother/uncle/brother, he's not really "friend," (and vice versa, claudia as child/niece/sister) and so there's always going to be a specific dynamic that is complicated in the way the family you grow up with is complicated, and is even more complicated because using any of those words is technically incorrect and they fully had lives before they met, but for the sake of this particular read i think this fits closest. caretaker, perhaps

the point is - and it's not something i can make particularly coherently at the moment - related to how i feel about my siblings (esp my younger siblings) vs how i feel about other people in my life. my siblings simply are, whether or not we get on all the time, whether i feel sad or not that our lives have grown apart since adulthood, whether or not other people in their and my life take precedence during particular times (which can take many different forms -- for them more romantic, for me more community related, the language for where we're going in life just looks different than it did when we were kids)

when louis lets claudia down, but at the same time promises "you and me/me and you" those two things aren't paradoxical to one another, because there is a certain "taking for granted" that can happen -- claudia is always going to be there, just like louis assumes he will also simply be there, while at the same time having that jealousy and expectation that comes with his being older than her that she'll always depend on him to an extent (and she does, but he maybe doesn't take into account how much he depends on her, because being older/feeling like he has "the responsibility" while also suffering serious mental health issues... lotta mess he puts on her shoulders, as we can see)

when claudia joins the coven that takes away louis' feeling of being of use anymore, he doesn't define himself outside of claudia ("if there was no me...") -- and also outside of lestat/his romantic relationships but that's a different post -- and claudia is moving on, but look, armand is there, claudia's got what she wants, louis got something, and they're both still there (am also reminded of how when claudia comes back in s1, it's explicitly once she sees louis sobbing over his grave when his sister declares him dead)

the idea of claudia not being there terrifies louis, he experienced that loss twice in new orleans, once when she left and didn't come back for years, and once when lestat forced her back immediately, and then again the idea of it when she joins the coven (but then he pulls himself back from the edge of letting armand kill him when he fears for her life) and then in a big way when she goes with madeleine, and he knows they're better together than he could ever be for her, but she's still his in that sibling/parent/caretaker feeling kind of way, and this is a loss even though it's important, and also, with being a vampire, she possibly could have still eventually circled back every 100 years or so -- such is the nature of family. they're still there, even if you don't see them for a very long time

and now, finally, forever. claudia is no longer there

im just. yes, louis let her down. but he let her down like you let your family down, by assuming that no matter what, they were a given. claudia can't simply... not be there anymore... she's his family. you argue and you make up and you fuck up and you forgive and you're still there, no matter how messed up you feel or how much you grow apart

she's so right in asking that question: who is louis outside of her? but not just because louis has had the worst luck in life (human and vampire) and been unable to form himself specifically because of *waves hands at everything,* but also because when you see yourself as a caretaker (whether or not you're doing a good job of it), who are you when that person wants to move on from you, doesn't need you in the way you want to be needed, when that person perhaps leaves your life for good?

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello!!! =D

This follows from Part 1

Warning: long post 😊😅

Oh you're still here 😶

Honestly, I was really liking his character right up till he said this. He was nice, friendly, and yes, a little invasive, but as long as Peem didn't mind, I was okay. But we all know how a love rival saying these words go in BLs, so when he said this, alarms went off in my head. And he continued flirting. Which is not okay. I know Peem doesn't really mind, but still. Kluen, you are a mostly decent human, but please take a rejection as it's supposed to be taken.

Also, when he says he's handsome and rich, and Peem jokes about how much he's willing to "invest", Peem says "Phum is handsome, too." No mention of his money. If Phum heard this, he'd be jumping and squealing, but it also tells us that Peem cares fuck all about how rich Phum is. Which will probably help Phum gain more confidence in this love.

Who the fuck cares. 🙂

Listen, as I said in my previous post, I'd decided to ignore the parents because they didn't deserve any attention, but when he stopped Fang from going after Phum, I was furious. That is nothing compared to what I felt in this scene. You ruined his childhood, gave him trauma that he'll never be able to fully leave behind, gave Fang trauma too, and then you dare to ask him why he doesn't talk to you? You have the audacity to keep pestering him even after he says he has something to do? And now you're ruining his adult life too. With all due respect, which is absolutely none: fuck. off.

@almayver I'm really thinking of writing that fic. 🙂

I love this friend group so much.

The moment Q says Peem is sad they all barge into his house to cheer him up, no hesitation. They don't demand to know the whys and hows (Q does, but he already knows), just settle in comfortable and loudly, and be their chaotic selves. This reminds us that despite all the flirting and cheesy lines and hugging and kissies, friendship will always be a priority for these group of friends.

And let's be honest, Peem expected Aunt Pui, and we all expected Phum. This was a very nice surprise.

All this time, Peem wasn't upset Phum was late. He was worried about Phum.

This was the scene that made me cry. We Are was supposed to be a simple romcom. WHAT IS THIS THEN.

I just- I really have nothing to say here, they said it all.

They both did what they did and are feeling what they are because they're important to each other.

Phum did it because he didn't want to ruin Peem's big day again. And Peem is upset and worried because he thinks he might not be Phum's safe space anymore.

Peem's reaction tells me that maybe he was over the moon last episode when he could provide comfort to Phum. And he's very very glad that at least with him, Phum can be himself. This incident makes him question that, which leads him to questioning their entire relationship. Phum himself said (many times in various ways) that Peem makes him feel good and warm and comfortable, and he's not lonely anymore. But... if Peem isn't that to Phum anymore, then what is he?

This is one of the best love confessions Thai BL has ever given me.

I have nothing else to say. This has already given us all enough emotional damage.

This reminds me of that textpost: "Caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing."

Love that Q has already accepted Phum hehe. You know your man is good when he's bestie-approved.

Love even more how he's giving the cold shoulder to Phum and then defending him to Peem 😭

Well he did, but apparently your ears were "muffled".

Also- love this scene.

HE SAYS IT.

I mean, I get him though, who the hell would be able to say no to Phum's "please? 🥺"

Just putting this here 'cause I happened to pause at the right moment and this scene is beautiful and very pretty. <3

I missed Matt (JJ) and his impeccable sense of humour so bad

Every group is incomplete without a Matt hehe

If I had a rupee for every time a couple kissed at this booth, I'd have two rupees, which is nothing, but it's strange it happened twice.

Another very beautiful scene. <33

He says that as if he isn't squealing and giggling inside. But. FINALLY. OUR PATIENCE HAS BEEN REWARDED, THEY'RE FINALLY DATING!!!!

OOH flower bouquet kiss hehe

Reminds me of QToey tote bag kiss

Next ep:

Portrait drawing?!!

"KHUN FAEN"??

SOFT TANFANG KISS???

HOW DO THEY EXPECT ME TO SURVIVE THIS?!!

*sigh*

Anyways, that's all for this week, see you next ep!

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have some ice cream 🍨

My We Are posts.

[vargaslovinghours]

And never let you go ♥

Bonus without the overspill lighting:

[theshalesky]

I hate how, when i'm asked questions about myself, for example in a personality quiz, my mind automatically goes to the answer that has to do with intelligence.

Of course if i could choose a magical gift i'd choose wisdom. Of course i want to be remembered as the smart one.

Or do i? Is that really me, or is it just the only thing about me that has always been praised, that has made me feel loveable and good enough and even special?

[thelostboys87]

a new lesbian character has entered the dallon literary universe/lover boy sphere

[heybaetae]

.

[astrxealis]

sometimes (often) i think about the characters i kin or relate to and then the realization comes in again and again that i need therapy (/lh?)

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

So. Turns out he hates me (in part) cause I'm the reason he's here

[chuluoyi]

✎ wedding anniversary

- gojo satoru x reader

seven years of dating, two years of wedded bliss, and gojo is having his greatest existential crisis yet... all because this year, you apparently have forgotten the most important day of your lives

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—heavy smut, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, crack, drunk, lovesick and possessive gojo (nanami is so very done with him), also fluff !!

note: back to chu's thirsting hour :') based on a fellow gojo fucker's very helpful brainrot (chiyo if you see this, hii!😗) pls give it some love bc this has gone through not showing up in the tags 5x already *sobs*

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

To this day, it was still beyond Nanami why you, his very sensible former classmate, would have Gojo Satoru as your husband.

“She... doesn't—hic!—care about m-me... anymore!”

But well, to each their own.

“Gojo—”

“Today is our—hic!—anniversary!”

This is exhausting. It had been 30 minutes ever since the blindfolded shithead started rambling his sorrows. “She is probably just busy, you don't have to—”

“I r-really thought—hic!—she would at least n-not forget it l-like that!”

“Please, stop this nonse—”

Satoru snapped his head so swiftly that Nanami was startled, pointing out an accusatory finger at his face. “You stop!—you don't understand, Nanami!”

The said man flinched, taken aback, before feeling the surge of irritation coursing through his veins.

Sure, Nanami would gladly admit that he didn't understand. He neither had the time nor energy to. It was beyond him that he was even entertaining this blubbering idiot at this time of the day, in a bar no less. How did he get roped into this in the first place?

Actually, he had minus interest in your marital affairs, but Gojo was latching onto him all day, rambling about how excited he was for this day for weeks now, until you gave him a call, saying you would be home late and disregarded his very open anticipation. You broke his heart to pieces, apparently.

Amidst his heartbroken musings, Gojo followed him to his frequented bar, where he proceeded to down multiple glasses without any supervision.

“Am I really t-that lousy? Can’t be it… I’m s-strong, d-dashing… rich—”

Nanami released a guttural sigh, messaging his temples. How could this idiot have no shame while spouting all of this?

“Will s-she… divorce me next…?” he abruptly blurted, eyes widening as saucers and full of clarity all of a sudden. Satoru firmly tugged at his suit and forced him to face him. “Nanamin…! S-she won’t divorce me, r-right?!”

Oh, to hell with it. Nanami couldn’t take this anymore. He was done and he had no patience to tolerate it any longer.

He shrugged him off, and pulled out his phone to dial your number. “Hello? Please, come pick your husband. He’s a public nuisance!”

In fact, you didn’t forget your anniversary.

How could you? Satoru made it his point to drop hints about it almost every day, and you actually struggled to be indifferent about it because you also had things planned out.

A present—already taken care of thanks to your mail order of Rolex’s newest collection watch, and a treat—a two-tier mochi cake he had been staring at with literal stars in his eyes on your last date.

Which has become the problem. The bakery had mishandled your delivery and you had to wait for them to remake it. It was 8pm already and you couldn't help but worry. Satoru must be feeling utterly despondent by now, thinking you had forgotten a day that meant so much for both of you.

And so when you got a call from Nanami, you dropped everything to get him and told the bakery to arrange for the delivery tomorrow, because you knew... nothing good ever came out of Satoru getting drunk.

"I missed youuuu~! Dearest, darling— my universe!"

To Satoru, the everything around him was a blur of lights and hiccups when you came to retrieve him. Nanami was so eager to wash his hands off him, leaving you with a pointed grimace as if pitying you.

. . .

"A-are you going to—hic!—leave m-me?" Satoru slurred for the nth time now, stumbling inside your house with you propping him.

"For the last time, no, but I'm tempted to," you hissed, throwing him a glare. Your husband was a very unpleasant drunk because he wasn't even a drinker in the first place. "Satoru—walk properly!"

You managed to get him into your bedroom, where Satoru flopped onto the bed, dissolving into groans. You exhaled deeply and plucked the buttons of his shirt open, trying to get him change into his sleepwear.

"Ah... haaah," suddenly he caught your hand and placed it on his bare chest, his eyes blazing into yours, rambling, "Sweetheart—please. I c-can't live without you now... I'm sorry—I'm sorry for anything, or everything, I don't even know but—please don't hate me—"

"Satoru..." Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Why was he this spooked? "I'm not leaving you, okay?"

"I promise you, I'll do better—" his voice was watery, as if his throat was clogged up. "I'll be better..." His voice then reduced into a whisper. The alcohol had stripped away his facade, leaving his raw emotions exposed.

Something inside you lurched. Throughout the nine years you have been with him, Gojo Satoru was always irritatingly self-assured, and so seeing him like this— so openly fragile, it did more than just churn your insides; it made you realize the depth of his feelings.

In that moment, you knew your reassurance meant everything.

"I'm not going anywhere, yeah?" you placed your other hand over his, offering him a genuine, soft smile. “Satoru, I’ve put up with your ass for more than nine years. So…” you shifted your eyes away, suddenly feeling embarrassed, before looking at him again. “I'm here... for you, always.”

His grip on your hand loosened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze didn't wane, and you would've laughed when he hiccupped next if you weren't feeling the overwhelming warmth in your chest.

But oh you wouldn't have expected it, because one heartbeat later, he yanked you down to the bed— crashing his lips against yours.

“Mmmph!”

He tangled his nimble fingers on your hair, and his other hand slipped inside your blouse, unclasping your bra in one flick. You let out a gasp, "Satoru—! "

Before you could even gasp, in the next second, he flipped you over— seizing your puffy lips once more. His hands now moved with more urgency, squeezing your breasts rather roughly, flicking your nipples with the pads on his thumbs.

And soon, far sooner than you thought...

"Who else gets to see you like this?" Satoru inquired darkly after you were naked under him, his voice low and deep. He was no longer that stupid husband of yours, rather the wanton man of your nightly wonders.

Without warning, he slid one of his fingers into your folds, probing your walls, and a gasp escaped you as you arched your back, throwing your head back on the sheets.

"No— one," your voice came in a breathless moan, still reeling. "H-how can y-you ask me—" Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger and you wailed, "Mmgh!"

He had always loved the sounds you made and how you were so pretty squirming under him like this. And before you knew it, his face was inches from your cunt, blowing hot air into your sensitive flesh.

"Tell me, who is the only person who gets to see you like this?"

Your eyes rolled back, words died on your tongue as his skilled tongue ran down on your drenched pussy. You instinctively tried to close your legs around his head, but he firmly held them apart.

"You." Panting, your mind racing to form coherent thoughts. You managed to mutter, "Only you... No one else—hah—just y-you...!"

He suckled on your clit hungrily then, rewarding you for your honesty. Squelching noises echoed around your marital bed as your arousal pooled around his fingers— you being so incredibly, irrevocably close to your release.

"Haaah, ngh—mmph!—Satoru, I'm a-about to—!" but then, in one cruel twist, he withdrew his digits, and your pussy throbbed at the loss.

You muffled your whines, feeling betrayed and irritable. "What—why—!?"

"Don't think that I'll let you cum anywhere else but my cock," he stated gallantly with an unusually stern expression, blue eyes narrowing as he assessed your wetness. Right in front of your eyes, his cock sprung after he let it out of his pants.

"Soon, you'll feel me..." Your eyes shamelessly followed his long length as he placed it on your lower belly. "...there."

Everything about him using that taunting tone turned you on, and true to his words, he soon slid himself inside you. He let out a low grunt at the feeling of how your walls clenching around him and you whined, the pain of being stretched making you almost sob.

"Shit, hold still," Satoru groaned, pushing down on your belly. "You're so tight— relax for me a bit, sweetheart? You're doing so, so fucking well."

His words went through you, and you could feel yourself opening more to ease his intrusion. Next thing you knew, he was buried deep inside you, and his gaze met you once again.

"Are you okay?" he asked between breaths, voice softening. When you nodded in response, he planted a kiss on your chest.

"I love you," he said in a rasp, eyes piercing your soul. "I’ll give you anything. My body, heart, soul—you can have it all. In return, you just have to promise one thing." His eyes, now clearer, deprived of the earlier haze, boring straight into you like an arrow.

"Don't ever leave me."

"I won't," you replied resolutely, catching your breath. Your own eyes shone with your love for him, making it even. "For as long as I live, it's going to always be you."

Satoru gazed at you as if you were his skies and stars, and before he started pounding into you, he vowed—

"Then I'm yours."

And soon, you were a nothing more than a frenzy, hot mess. You couldn’t help the nasty moans flying out of your lips as he kept barreling into you. His grunts reverberated throughout the room, rutting you through your hazed mind.

And the way he was whispering provocations into your ear, pushing you further into ecstasy at the mere thought of—

"What if... I get you pregnant this time?" A thrust. "Just imagine—" Another. "My wife, all round—" Another. "—just because I—am doing this to her—!"

You were barely registering his rambles at this point. Your walls clenching around his girth impossibly tight and you let him claim you as his thoroughly, your legs locking around his waist.

"Ah—ngh, mmrgh! Satoru—more!"

This wasn't you, the usual you wouldn't be this daring— but even you'll be more than forgiven tonight.

Satoru's jaw tightened at the sheer pleasure you brought him, his ego stroked, and his heavenly eyes darkened as you begged and dug your nails into him. He was so close, he could feel it. Your moans was enough to lead him to cum right here and there.

But before that, he was determined to show you, to whom you truly belong.

“My wife.” He growled. A thrust.

“Mine.” You gasped. Harder.

“All mine.” Deeper.

"Yes," you cried. "Yours— all yours, so please—!"

And three deep thrusts later, Satoru finally busted his load inside you, spurts after spurts painting your wall white— filling you up so hard it was spilling out. And your orgasm followed in immediate effect along with your hitched screams of pleasure, before the two of you collapsed on each other, a mix of groans and sweat, entwined in cum, bliss and exhaustion.

"Love you, sweetheart," you heard him murmuring in your ears, enveloping you in a warm embrace as you drifted into sleep.

Next morning, you were awoken to soft hums in your ears.

"Oh, the sleeping beauty awakens." The first sight you saw was Satoru's cheeky grin, and him pecking you on the lips. "How are you?"

"Mmm..." you winced, feeling the slight twinge between your legs. He noticed it and gently untangled himself from you, fingers tracing your waist. "Don't move around too much, you're going to bother my little swimmers, you know."

It took you a few seconds to realize what he meant and you glared at him. "You horny weirdo. I just woke up."

“Heh heh heh~ Don't take it too seriously! I was just trying to get you to smile.” He pinched your cheeks and then mused, “Well, I'd actually be surprised if we made it last night...”

"You're not funny," you retorted. You had been feeling weird and that was when you saw it.

The dazzling, massive diamond ring. On your finger. Wait, is that Graff's Tribal Collection?

"Satoru..." you mumbled, lifting your hand in shock, your eyes fixed on the piece that likely cost more than your monthly wage. "You..."

"Do you like it?" his smile was so easy and light, adoring the sight of you. You were so adorable, marveling at the little gift he got you.

"What do you mean—" you stuttered, turning to him. "Are you crazy?! I can't wear something this expensive—!"

"But that's exactly my point. It's a gift, meant to spoil my wife."

"You are mad," warmth flooded your cheeks, your heart fluttering with joy. You were unbelievably giddy because your husband really knew the way to your heart, yet you'd be damned if you let the excitement show in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression souring, and with a mocking tone, he accused you, "Actually, you're the one who's gone mad. I can't believe you forgot our anniversary!"

"I didn't, you dummy. I was out picking up your favorite mochi cake before you got yourself wasted." You turned away from him, shyly. "And I got a gift for you too."

"Oh? Oooh! Really!? What is it?!"

He was back to his silly self again, and you could only shake your head, wondering how the sex god from last night and this fool was the same person.

Yet, you felt nothing but love. Your heart couldn't help but melt for him when you saw that carefree grin.

And you couldn't be more grateful to the stars for bringing him into your life.

. . .

Oh, and little did you know that his little swimmers also made the goal last night— as three weeks later, you found yourself clutching the first of your pregnancy tests, which was showing a positive.

[louisa-gc]

how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.

[kathaynesart]

The eye of the hurricane. I like to think Cassandra sometimes called the brothers by the nicknames their dad used, given they were probably pretty close before his passing.

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST

Man oh man, this one was way messier and off model than my last few updates but whatever, we got to keep this ball rolling! Life's been crazy so I've had to take some unwanted breaks in between updates. Thanks everyone for your patience as always!

One thing I wanted in this flashback was to really get a sense of how the brothers worked as an experienced team with Leo at the helm as a proper leader. It's something we never got to see much of in Rise and I felt it was important to include since half the team is already gone by the time of Replica. Team Dynamics Ted Talk under the cut!

We know from Casey Jr that Leo stressed the importance of listening to your team. A big part of that also means knowing how to communicate with them in general.

With Michelangelo, he keeps it short and succinct, trusting his brother to know what he's doing when in his element. This trust goes a long way with Mikey, having spent years of his youth as the baby striving for the respect he felt he deserved. Leo knows it's best to not bog Mikey down with details, allowing him to improvise as needed. This unspoken freedom has only grown over time as Mikey has dipped deeper into spiritual arts that, frankly, go completely over Leo's head.

The greatest sacrifice Leo has ever made was read Donnie's Big Book of Bad Guy Codes. While he doesn't remember ALL the numbers, he has memorized the ones that matter and it has helped tremendously in avoiding miscommunication with his genius brother. More importantly it silenced any of Donnie's usual belly-aching. As Leo's "twin"/"equal" the two still butt heads from time to time. Donnie respects his brother's authority (mostly) but will still push the boundaries of what he's allowed on a semi-regular basis. Give Donnie an inch and he will take the mile and then find a loop hole that allows him to go twenty miles more. This is partially due to him often being the one left behind at HQ, making the turtle just a TAD stir crazy. Leo does his best to keep him in line regardless.

Big brother Raph will forever and always be big brother to Leo. As such he holds a place of authority in Leo's heart and is someone he still regularly seeks counsel from in both the ways of leadership and more. Raph is always happy to support his younger brother and does a surprisingly good job (albeit after years of practice) of walking the line so as not to step on his brother's toes in the process. At least not since the secret of "the Key" blew up in their faces several years ago. They don't talk about that anymore. Leo is the leader now and he's done a great job in recent years as far as Raph is concerned. He trusts him to make the right call. The two have a close bond and regularly use mind meld to quickly communicate rather than speak ...this will be important to remember for the future.

Hope that overall feeling came through for this group!

[anantaru]

GENSHIN + YOU SAY HE'S TOO SMALL

— ꒰ including ꒱ — childe, wriothesley, zhongli, alhaitham x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, bratty! reader, dom genshin characters, size kink & size difference, pet names used: dear, love, baby, doll, they're so confident i'm sick, alhaitham is a little mean in this one, cockwarming, rough teasing ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

as marvelous as it sounded to be nice to ajax, indulge yourself beneath his welcoming silhouette and paddle through the outbursts of sparks and bliss, you also loved being a little menace and make him question himself. it starts with a, "you're too small for me," then ends with a "but that's okay!" before putting a ribbon on it, becoming concerned by his drawn out silence before he changes up his demeanor, laughing and smirking sarcastically above you. 

"too small, hm?" childe grunts hotly before carefully inspecting how your eyes grow with fervor as he snaps his hips forward with one numbing snap of hips, his muscles visibly contorting at the movement, "you're so mean to me, baby, always so mean," as he completely stills himself inside.

if he's so small, you don't mind if he's not moving anymore, correct? in fact, the flaring stretch of your cunt shouldn't be that evident on your pungent expression. your skin grows warmer when you realised he doesn't have any plans of fucking you nicely tonight, if anything, the harbinger wanted to make this an important lesson for you.

buried deep, he felt so hot inside of you, burning a mark on your walls and exploring more and more of your skin as every part of your limbs and veins felt like he's set them on fire. every pulse of his erection in you, each grumble and deep, delicious moan sent you into a spiral until you couldn't breathe, not when you felt so full inside.

your hands fly to his hair as you tug him closer, struggling to keep the focus on his darling face with the obvious distraction of his shaft thudding within you, "move.." you bite and gnaw down on your bottom lip, yet he doesn't, much to your displeasure, he only drives himself a bit deeper until he couldn't anymore, roaming through your sensitive walls as a wet heave echoes from your lips.

"didn't you say i'm too small for you?" childe pouts apathetically as you feel a rush of defeat coarse over your spine, "this shouldn't bother you then baby," and he continues, he cannot stop now.

he begins to slowly grind his hips back and forth, yet only in small, little rolls that barely did anything, never pulling himself out.

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

the duke was both pestering and infuriatingly sexy, and there was only one way to humble him by claiming he's not as big as you might've made it sound like in the past. sure, he can make you squirm if he really tries, beyond that? it's fine, nothing out of the ordinary though.

"I don't care that you're too small for me baby, you still have a big heart," you purse your lips together, suppressing an interrupting laughter, although unblinking with a devilish smirk.

"hey, now," wriothesley mumbles in soft tones, and he's gentle, squeezing your hips and tracing over your body as he drops lower to press himself close to you.

the duke rests his forehead against yours and kisses your bottom lip, knowing you love it, it's like a silent way of telling you that he'll be gentle despite his size, well, normally, now it's his method of warning you for what's about to come, "tell me that once i'm done, hm?"

"…with a straight face, stock-still," he felt excitedly elevated, so eager to sooth you and take the edge of brattiness from your voice— until you're bathed in sweat and his cum, desperately moaning out his name with a sound drenched in that of raw hunger.

in a blink of an eye, a ruthless rhythm manifested from wanting to burn that lie from your brain and the usual confidence rising from his body.

he holds your frame captive without a single route of near return, pleasure racing through your skin as he grumbles into your lips, makes your voice rise and hitch as he knocks the air off your lungs with another swift drag of him, his balls crushing against your puffy flesh before letting your walls constrict around his big length.

"shhh, not to worry, you hear? you claimed you can take it, didn't you?" a shudder was born at the ruthlessness in his words, your shoulders tensing and falling in an alleviation of feeling so full. the impact on how he's handling tonight was both totally unsurprising as well as exceedingly sudden at the same time.

you're slowly regretting your past claims, although not really— because you secretly enjoyed whenever wriothesley was rough with you, anytime he was so turned on by your presence that he had to show you in many different ways.

every thread and spark of your cunt constricts up at the close proximity he made you go through— the penetrating waves of his feverishness entrusting into your flesh as you lose yourself completely, needing more, needing him faster and better than each time before.

"you like that, doll? i'm so deep, fuck—" he slurrs his wording, making you shudder, "i love being inside you, i love when you do that… squeezing me," and the more you attempted to hide your precious whimpers from him, the more he made you gasp heftily in return as his hips carried on to rock back and forth your spongy insides.

— ꒰ ZHONGLI ꒱

believe it or not but in the beginning, it was supposed to be a little throw around inquiry to mess with your boyfriend's mind a little, just so you could see how he'd react to being called small. in truth, you didn't necessarily believe he'd actually care that much, maybe he'd even jester back. no one needs to tell you that morax had experience, and a special way of going around your body— so naturally, you expected him to simply laugh off the comment of being on the smaller side, especially his girth.

you can feel his cockhead nudge over your throbbing hole, ever so slightly inching inside until you'd gasp from both fullness and ache. zhongli was never too rough with you, he couldn't be, the idea of actually hurting you was sending numerous shivers into his body.

“i'm fond of this side of you, my dear, i love when you say nonsense like this,"

before you can form your words, his lips found yours, although rougher this time— teeth colliding together messily as his tongue laps across your own, exploring the inside and groaning when you tug roughly at his disheveled strands, his raw emotions enough for to lose a war you were never able to win in the first place.

zhongli hears you pant softly into his lips and he could cum just here and there if it wasn't for his self restraint, calculating his hot trails of touches as your walls glister beautifully around his hard and heavy shaft. your reactions excited him as much as reminding you that there's no point in lying to your lover, not when he always fucked you so nicely and left you breathless.

"zhongli— please please don't tease me now.." you whimper, words muffled beneath him as you attempt to reason, "i was just joking, really," and your voice? so deliciously at his mercy, sounding so pathetically weak that it strengthens the turmoil in your belly.

he breathes out a laugh, his musky scent lingering all over you, "you forgot your earlier statement already? that's not how it works."

you continue to mumble out precious pleas, unable to answer with words anymore as his dripping dick buries balls deep into your hot warmth before he grabs onto a fistful of your ass, "you feel so good, my dearest," he says wetly, pulling out of you and grinding back in immediately after as the bed drags against the wooden floor.

oh well, zhongli would be lying if your claim, even with how extremely amusing it was, didn't turn him on in the end.

— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱

propped up on your elbows, you watch alhaitham get rid of his shirt before he attempts to go down on you, in fact, it was a sweet, little habit of his because he knew he had to prep you enough so it wouldn't end up feeling uncomfortable to you taking his bulky cock.

yet this time, you gaze up at him in open expectation, before stopping him from shuffling between your thighs, "no.. i want you now," you softly feel up his stomach as a sign of desire before smirking, "it's not like it makes a difference with your size, come here," before quickly wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down.

you kiss and lick over the slight confusion on alhaitham's face as he props your soaked hole with his middle finger breezily, "didn't i say you're not supposed to lie?"

"and what was that about always being honest in a relationship?" he affirms, stilling the movement of his finger before dropping his body on the mattress, the sheer impact of his weight falling to the bed making you tumble slightly.

"come on then," he urges you confidently, snaking his arms towards your hips before lifting you above his pulsing erection, your wet folds sitting gently against his cock throbbing between, "if that's what you believe, you can ride me tonight, correct?"

"..uh, sure," your voice wasn't anywhere near his confidence and you didn't believe it was even possible for you to reach that level in the first place. although your rhythm was hesitant at first, you begin to lift yourself up as alhaitham wraps his palm around his aching shaft, giving it a good stroke and making you line yourself up alone.

you don't mind, do you? not under any condition could it be difficult if what you've said was the truth and nothing but the truth.

his fingers dig into your hips as you take his cock head, the stretch of it slightly burning. but you're determined, in fact, you never achieved victory against alhaitham and perhaps, that was your secret time to shine.

breaking the silence, you wince before a dozen of soft, silken moans gash from your mouth, not making it any easier for you. nevertheless, you carry on to move your hips, thighs shuddering and your hands finding support by leaning against his toned abs.

"f-fuck—" a needy whine echoes and finds alhaitham's ears as the glow of shyness in your gaze refuses to meet his intense, sweltering one.

he hums, making you whimper, "you need help?" as his fingers compress into your skin to shift his hips up and hold yours down at the same time, forcing your cunt to take a couple inches more.

your head immediately lolls back as he bottoms up again, again and again until he's filling the space in your hole, sliding his palms over your ass and kneading a fistful of flesh before dragging you up and down his length. alhaitham can make out the beauty of your figure even better now, he might become addicted to this position presenting him your bothered face, your erected nipples and your beautiful tummy all for his eyes to relish in.

"too slow," but you melt into his touch regardless, shivering above him, "didn't expect anything else," yet it was so amusing to him— because watching through alhaitham's pair of eyes, you should certainly do this more often, in fact, there was nothing that turned him on more than proving you wrong.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[rockrosethistle]

If there's one thing TGWDLM fans are gonna do, it's think about the implications. And the implications of the opening number are crazy.

So. We know that the show isn't completely chronological since the opening number takes place before the meteor hits. So that song is a sort of "flash forward" moment. But when you think about it, we don't really know how far in the future it takes place.

What we do know is that by the time it's happening, Emma is infected. She has a little solo in it singing about how Paul is pining over a barista

And we know that this is meant to be an infected Emma specifically. Lauren had other characters in the show, if they wanted to avoid the Emma implication they would've just dressed her as one of those.

So we know this is meant to be Emma.

And Emma isn't infected until the very end of the show. She's dragged off stage during the credits. So since she's infected in the opening number, we know the number takes place after the events of the show.

Another important detail is that Paul is infected before Emma. He's the one that passes it on to her.

So back to the opening number, Emma is infected. Which means by just following a simple timeline, Paul must also be infected. He should be singing and dancing, right?

But that's not what happens. Paul misses his entrance.

If Paul is infected, then there's no reason he should be missing his entrance. Furthermore, if he's a part of a hive mind, there's no reason other members of the same hive mind shouldn't know where he is. They are literally all connected by one brain, and yet both Mr. Davidson and Bill express they have no clue where he went.

What I'm saying is that Paul is not infected. He was infected (again, we know that because Emma is infected and he was infected before her) but now he's not anymore.

I'm saying there's a way out of the hive, and Paul found it. That's the only explanation that makes sense given the facts of the situation. Sometime after the events of tgwdlm, Paul is able not only to break out the hive mind, but to hide from it.

And if he broke out, others could do the same. Maybe even Emma.

Edit because a countertheory has emerged: Yes it's possible that everyone is infected the entire time and the show itself is just Pokey replaying the events for the fun of it. But it seems unlikely to me. First of all, each of the Lords in Black has a distinct personality. They all are evil, but within that they seems to fall somewhere on a spectrum of "silly billy" to "prick." For example, Tinky is more of a silly billy. He toys with humans without much of a motive and more for just shits and giggles. But in every instance, Pokey's more on the extreme side of prick.

He's one of the few with an actual motive behind what he does. In Yellowjacket, it's confirmed that Pokotho hates the sound of anyone's voice except for his own. The events of TGWDLM don't happen because Pokey is bored, they happen because he is executing a plan. So I don't think that he would just have them play out their little scenario just to entertain him, especially just one small island? I just feel like he'd be more focused on world domination.

If the theory is that all this is happening after Pokey's already taken over the whole world, no one was successful in stopping him, then yes it's plausible, but still weird. There are a strange amount of things in that show you just think an eldritch god wouldn't include.

Edit 2: New evidence has emerged???

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is loosely based off of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Paul's last name is even a nod to the main character, Matthew. At the end of the film, Matthew survives, and continues living among the infected, pretending to be one of them. And wouldn't that be just such a fun little parallel...

Obviously it doesn't prove anything but the source material doesn't lie folks.