#I'M SORRY THIS IS SO POLITICAL I'M JUST SO MAD

[simpxxstan]

Hi! Been reading your fics svt as you best friend’s brother and im hooked, my favorite would be vernon’s!!! Idk if you still accept request but if you do, can i request Joshua + as your brother’s bestfriend?

P.S. i really like your writing style! 🥰

this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.

thank you for enjoying my work <3 and thanks for the request, it was wonderful to work on it!! altho i wrote like 4 versions because i so unsatisfied but finally settled on this, really hoping that you'll like it1 and again, i'm so sorry for being late, i hope you still enjoy this :)

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who you certainly don't approve of at all

"i don't like this new friend you have." you tell your brother straight up when joshua leaves your house after dinner. it's the first time he's visited your house since your brother and he became inseparable. you've heard a lot about him and to be fair, you'd expected him to be .... not like what you realise he is.

it's nothing tangible, though. joshua is all politeness and manners, but there's an air about him which constantly reminds you that he belongs to old money, an air of superiority that seems to be ingrained in his manner of walking and talking.

and the worst bit is that everyone is so taken with him. ever since he's joined your high school, it's become amply clear that everyone loves joshua hong. some because of his wealth, others because of his looks.

"sis, he didn't even bother you. how the hell do you not like him?" your brother's low grumble annoys you, as if he has a right to ask you this although he freely drops his opinions about all your new college friends. "i don't know, really. but the vibes are... vibes are bad."

vernon rolls his eyes. "you're just mad because he's not into you, isn't it?" the words don't leave his mouth before he gets a very subtle kick in his shin that dumps him on the floor.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who rarely ever gets curious about people, but somehow he just cannot understand you

he's seen enough people already and now he can flag each person by their type. but you don't seem to fit into any of the boxes he can so easily segregate humans into. for one, you're very lowkey, just like vernon. but unlike your brother, you're not laidback nor are you cool, at all, really. you're very tight-wound, always on your guard, your wide eyes taking in everything around you.

"okay you're scaring me now," joshua spins around and meets your gaze, squinting to try and understand what thoughts lurk beneath those judgy little eyes.

"what have i done?" "you can't be judgmental during a creative process!" "i have literally not spoken a word and yet you think i'm judging you." "that's cause you are," joshua stands up and walks to you, hands on his hips, desperately trying to keep a cool face as he tries to read your mind. you cock your head to one side, meeting his stare, "oh yeah? how's that so?" "your eyes are boring holes into my back, i can feel them, you know." you stand up, your height nowhere close to joshua's but the strength of your gaze strong enough to pin his attention, "that's just the voice in your head, nuthead. you know your song is trash and you're dumping it on me now."

"hey!" vernon protests, and joshua smirks, "see i told you she was judging us! well, you can keep your judgement to yourself, miss chwe-" "yeah, i was gonna-" "and maybe leave the room while the artists are busy creating art your silly brain cannot understand."

you gasp, "you can't kick me out of my own room, you nobody!" "but he can," he says, pointing to vernon, "he's your brother." "not really, i'm gonna tell mom-" joshua loves seeing you get riled up, loves to see at least some emotion on your face. "okay, my whiney lil girl, go tell mommy," he bends down to your level and winks, his breath catching at the very audible sound of your gasp.

and it works, somehow. did he just intimidate you? or irritate you? whatever he's done, now you do leave the room, but not before flipping off him and vernon. that hurts his ego a little bit, but at least he won't have to feel your judgy eyes stare at his back while he's composing the masterpiece he and vernon are going to perform at the next party. that's a win in his books.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua whose somehow everywhere you go, almost like a shadow

of course, some of it is thanks to your brother. and the rest of it is because he has a lot of common classes with you. and although he's a new student, he's quickly become the apple of the eye of many teachers too.

"if you're really so good at creative literature, why can't you write your lyrics yourself!" you huff at him when he shoves the notebook towards you across the table once again. "that's because i've got writer's block, you idiot. why can't you just be nice to me for once, i'm just asking for some help!"

joshua's looking at you with the most helpless puppy eyes he can manage, but you're not falling for his tricks. "you're getting me distracted with this, i know what you're doing." your hand stretches across the table, pushing the notebook back to him. "distracting you? it's one damn verse-" "joshua, you're trying to distract me from working on the essay due this week, aren't you?"

joshua's eyes bulge. "what? woman, now you're overdoing this. i don't even know why you have these kinds of illusions about me. i haven't done anything to you." "but i know your type of guy," you eye him seriously, and he cocks an eyebrow. "whatever it is, you've got me wrong, y/n." for a second, you're almost convinced, but then you look at the rolex resting casually on his wrist.

"no i'm not, joshua. there are hundreds of other people, eager to write your song lyrics, but no, you come to me. why? you're an attention whore, you only pester me because i push you away. the day that i give in, you'll be gone, and -"

joshua leans in until he's almost breathing the same air as yours. "and what, y/n?" you pause for a second to frame your words correctly, but joshua takes up the chance, "then you'll realize that you've got me all wrong, because i never left you at all?"

there's some rawness in his voice, a rugged angle that's new in his usually sugary sweet voice, and it leaves you disoriented for a long minute, your thoughts scattered, your heart racing and your intuition anxious. have you really got him all wrong? but he's already gone by then, gone before you've predicted, and you have no second chance to call him back to tell him that you'd already thought of lines for the verse last night when you'd heard your brother sing the rest of the song.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who's looking for you in the crowd when he performs at the party tonight, but it's a search in vain

he wants to ask vernon if he knows where you are, but he doesn't want to sound desperate. doesn't want to sound like an attention whore, doesn't want you the pleasure to think that maybe you're right. because no. you're not. he's not thirsting for your attention. he's not yearning for one soft look from your eyes because he can never understand what's going on behind them. he's not going insane every night wondering what you really think of him. he's not longing to see your fake guard fold in two so that he can tell you that he-

Hope you listen to this song 'cause I, I, I... 'Cause I'm doing right just fine. I'm doing alright, doing alright. he sings, but he really hopes no one sees it on his face that he's not, in fact, doing alright. no one has affected him to this extent, to the extent that it's plaguing his thoughts all day and all night whether they hate him or not. and the fact that even this is occurring is concerning enough for joshua to feel his stomach twist in anger and anxiety, although he can see the crowd happily sway to their song.

and then vernon sings, I can't get you out of my head, yeah, Gotta get you out of my head, yeah. How can you be so fine when ... and joshua remembers how he wrote this verse thinking about your icy eyes when you stare at him when he's standing in front of the class, giving a presentation that the teacher's asked him to deliver, staring at him like he's not good enough.

I'm doing great myself, Hope you know I am... and how joshua wrote these lives in a feverish whisper in the middle of the night when your words from last afternoon had come rushing to his mind and he'd lost all sleep. because he is doing great, isn't he? he is. he doesn't need your attention. he doesn't need your approval. he doesn't even need your affirmation.

except the voice in his head knows he does. he knows it because it's at this moment that he sees you in the crowd, standing far away from the stage so he hopes you don't know he's staring right at you, but he can feel the burn of your gaze even through the blinding lights.

and the song ends with a final strum of his guitar, vernon singing, I'm super fine, I don't need you anymore... and joshua can't help but whisper out, into his microphone

i need you

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who's looking too good for even you to resist tonight, with the signature black jacket and a single vein popping out on his neck

you don't even know why you came tonight. something something about your mother asking you to check on vernon and make sure he's not getting high. something something about this being the last weekend before you get into study mode for finals. something something about you being curious about what joshua finally wrote in that verse.

and while you've seen your brother perform quite a few times, seeing joshua on stage gives you a different kind of goosebumps. the kind of goosebumps that leave you wondering what is wrong with you that you're so mean to him on an every day basis when he's so beautiful and so talented.

i'll give him a chance, you think, when you walk towards backstage. you confidently enter the tiny room that's labelled as backstage, but you find your brother making out desperately with someone in a corner so you jump out of the room immediately...

"looking for someone?" and bump into the person you've actually been looking for. when you turn around, his eyes leave you breathless, and you think that he is right. you have got him all wrong.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who can finally read your eyes because he's taken you by surprise and you can't mask your feelings so quickly

and now he's got you in his arms, and he knows that vernon is up to something inside the room, so he slowly slides you away from the room and against the wall next to it. "did you watch me?" not us. me. because joshua wants to know desperately what you think about him.

"i did." "and? what did you think?" your pretty eyes flitter about, trying to avoid his gaze avidly, but his hand slips under your chin so that you do look at him. "don't make me lose my mind, y/n. tell me, please."

so you finally look at him. really look at him. no shields, no guards, no distances. "i thought you were damn good, joshua hong. that's what i thought."

joshua's hand slips from under your chin and falls to his side. "and? what did you think of the song?" there's a hint of a smile in your eyes, and he can see them crinkle into a smile before your mouth can. "i thought it was very emotional. i didn't think you to be capable of such raw emotion. was it for someone?"

and he knows this is the moment. he knows it is because all the voices in his head are ringing like sirens with only one answer. "yes, you."

and you gasp and joshua leans in to press a kiss to your mouth. it's a soft kiss, barely a peck, a request for permission, a test to check the tides. so when you lean into him, chasing his lips, he loses all control.

"y/n chwe, you're driving me insane," he mutters, as he slowly tastes all of your lips, feeling the plush and the warmth of the one thing he's craved for months now. "pl- please, don't fight this feeling," he knows he's begging, but he doesn't care. all he wants is your softness against his hands and your warmth spreading to his body and your lips smashing again and again against his own lips.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who's eyes bulge out of their sockets, his lipstick smudged against the corner of his mouth, a pathetic whine leaving his throat as you push him away

there's an emergency siren ringing in your head right now, and all you want to do is fall back into his arms, but you can't. you simply cannot. because that would mean you've fallen for his games, become prey to his tactics and he'd win again.

you have to fight the feeling because you know tomorrow morning he'll be gone, and never come back, because he's got you under his grasp now. so you do the first thing the rush of adrenaline tells you to do- run.

you run all the way home, locking yourself into your room, biting down on the rough edges of your t-shirt to stop yourself from screaming because your mind is still reeling from the taste of the forbidden fruit. you know deep down, that you have lost to joshua. you've given yourself up to him, let your guard down, and if you see him right now, you may just fold.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who doesn't give up looking for you, and finally finds you in the corner of the library the next afternoon, skipping lunch in favour of revising biology

thankfully, you're too engrossed in your notes to realise when he's taken the seat next to you, it's only after he softly calls out your name that you jerk up with surprise, "oh it's you."

and then a second later, when joshua's hand is halfway across the gap between you two, you whisper out louder, "oh it's you." he pauses. "yeah, y/n, it is me. what's wrong?"

you don't respond immediately. you stare at his outstretched hand, at the confusion etched on his features and the way your knees are touching under the desk. "you came looking for me?" joshua doesn't understand why you look so dazed, but he replies softly, leaning in, "of course. why wouldn't i?"

and then you lean into him and kiss him. wow that was simple, joshua's mind still confused at what just happened, but he doesn't miss the opportunity. his hand finds your arm, and he pulls you closer to kiss you, to taste you in every way he couldn't last evening. "i want you, y/n. why do you run away from me?"

and joshua doesn't know why, but you laugh. it's the sound of rain falling on leaves, the sound of tinkling beads, the sound of piano keys played on a midsummer night. "i promise i won't anymore, joshua. because i admit, i want you too." and you kiss him again, and somehow, his curiosity becomes the last thing on his mind. not when you're busy rearranging his brain chemicals to make sure he's addicted to your scent, your taste and your touch and he can never live without you now.

[dootznbootz]

i think you are the first and only penelope fanblog on tumblr. i don't think i've ever seen someone go this nuts about her this often. it's refreshing.

Thank you 🥹 I love her a lot

I don't know if I'm the "only" fanblog (and really hope I'm not ;~; please give love to one of the coolest women ever) but yeah, I do hope people come to love her and appreciate her as she is more too.

[xadenviolct]

Men would rather see the realm put to the torch, than see a woman ascend the iron throne.

Needless to say, there are so many quotes from media (books, movies, television, etc.) that have spoken to me today (especially). From Padme to Leia, from Hermione to Katniss, from Aelin and Feyre and Violet, from every single warrior who has fought for a better world and never given up and always hoped for the better--

Media has always been what has gotten me through times like this. When the utter stupidity (which, I feel, isn't even a strong enough word to truly express the severity of the whole thing) is so great, and I've gone between utter and complete disgust and rage to disbelief and numbness.

And run the entire realm of emotions in between.

So forgive me if this post is a bit... disjointed. It's a true "let me get my thoughts down because I need to write them somewhere before my head utterly explodes" kind of thing.

I don't even know where to begin, in many ways. Because how do you truly put into words these feelings? How do you truly express the utter and complete disgust with mankind that you feel, when you didn't even set the bar very high to begin with? When you had it set extremely LOW, even, because of multiple factors:

They are in a CULT. Led by a con man. There can truly be no denying that whatsoever. And cults, by definitions, do not follow logic and reason and sense.

People are stupid. And hateful. And tend to vote "party" no matter what (in a lot of cases).

The American education system (especially in regards to history, civics, literature, etc.) is utterly horrible--and certain Powers That Be want to keep it that way because an ignorant populace is always easier to control.

And those are just SOME reasons I set the bar low. But at the same time, I had the smallest little nugget of hope:

Surely, the hypocrisy will be called out and stopped? Surely, the utter hate & division (and bullying & insulting & name-calling) will make some people open their eyes? Surely, the fact that so many prominent members of the Republican Party (lifelong senators & military leaders, etc) who have openly endorsed the Democratic candidate--as well as spoken on the dangers of re-electing that man--will show people that there are GIANT FLASHING WARNING SIGNS going off?

Surely, America can learn a little bit from history?

Right?

As a woman, it sickens me even more to see this country say, once again, that it will elect a man like that over a woman. For no other reason than the fact that he is a man, and she is a woman.

Because there can be no other reason, no matter what anyone tries to claim.

That this was even a question at all in the first place, and that there were those who were "undecided" at any time over which candidate to choose, proves that.

Because while a lot of the American system needs fixed (and while yes, the two-party system doesn't always give you "the best" options), it is VERY clear that we're not changing that part of the process any time soon.

So the USA really looked at a black woman who was intensely qualified on every single level, who ran a wonderful campaign in a shorter time than any other candidate in recent history, who spoke of trying to heal the division, to work with everyone, to make this a UNITED country--

And the majority of voters really said:

No, we will take the rapist. The felon. The schoolyard bully. We will take the fascist whose entire campaign was nothing but insults and name-calling. Of division and spreading hate. Of basically declaring those who didn't side with them "enemies".

The majority of American voters really looked at Kamala Harris and Tim Walz, and decided that everything they (American people) claim to hate about politics (division, lies, hypocrisy)--in other words, the entire campaign of Donald Trump and JD Vance--was the better option for this country.

Disappointed is not strong enough. Disgusted is not strong enough. Angry, sick-- There is no word that I can think of that is strong enough to fully express everything I've felt today, with this country.

There are times I have been "embarrassed" by America. Many actions in the early 2000s from President Bush. In 2016 when the nation first elected Trump. I thought I was in an alternate nightmare reality then, because I could not believe they were really that stupid.

But to see them do so again? To see, in the last 4 years since he lost in 2020, for him to do nothing but whine and argue and deny the facts like a fucking toddler throwing a damn tantrum*, only for this nation to say, "Yes, we want to elect this man again"--

I want to scrub the blood, the American identity, from my very DNA. I want to never see an American flag again. There is nothing to be proud of in this nation, when that ends up as the majority decision.

*And I would also like to note that Kamala acted like an actual adult, in that she conceded the race. That despite how utterly sick & disgusted we are, the Democratic Party is not whining and throwing some god-awful tantrum and fit, claiming CHEATER?

But hey, America, you wanted the toddler. You wanted the schoolyard bully.

Because god forbid we elect a black woman instead!

And now, I have something to say to all the so-called religious people. To all the so-called Christians.

Every single atheist and agnostic person I have ever met is far, far more "Christ-like" than you will ever be.

And when you die, and you stand before the God you believe in, be sure to tell Jesus just how much you hated your fellow neighbor. Just how much you did not follow what should be so easy:

"Love Thy Neighbor."

Because I know you just love quoting and throwing scripture at people, so have this one:

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger and you invited me in. I needed clothes and you clothed me. I was sick and you looked after me. I was in prison and you came to visit me. Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and fed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'Truly, I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'" (Matthew 25: 35-40)

So I'm sure your Jesus knows of the hate in your heart. Of the true depth of your hypocrisy. Of claiming to do good in his name, when your actions are the complete opposite of what his words and teachings are.

Because while I may not believe any longer, I have the knowledge and the background and the understanding of what the Christian religion should be. What it is supposed to be.

And it is because of people like you that I do not. That I have seen far more "good people", "righteous people" and "kind people" that are not religious than I ever have of those who tie themselves to a particular faith.

So yes, as you stand all holier-than-thou in your churches, only to spew hate and bigotry every other day, know that your actions speak far, far louder than your words.

And if you truly believe (as you claim), then God knows that. Knows what is truly in that heart of yours.

I am sorry you feel like you must bring the entire country down with you. I am sorry that you feel like the entire world must succumb to your religious doctrine, your religious faith. I am sorry that you cannot grasp that "separation of Church & State" and "freedom of religion" are so integral to what the American society is supposed to be...

Because if you only want CHRISTIAN faith, and CHRISTIAN knowledge and CHRISTIAN doctrine and prayer-- but rebel at the idea that the Islamic faith or the Jewish faith or the Hindu faith or the Pagans or any of the other many, many other religions (and those who do not tie themselves to a particular religion at all)--would have equal opportunity and share and have their faith and "commandments" posted and beliefs made law...

Then you are a big, fucking HYPOCRITE.

But I honestly could expect nothing less.

You have a right to your religion. Your belief. Your practices. You can raise your children as secular or as religious as you wish. You can make your health decisions based on what you believe, based on your personal choices, your personal circumstances.

That is YOUR right.

What so many of you fail to understand is that you do NOT have the right to tell everyone else to live by your religion or your belief. To practice a faith that you hold. To make health decisions based on a religion that has nothing to do with them, or a government dictating what can and cannot be done in health decisions between a patient and a doctor.

The only people that should be allowed such a decision? The patient and the doctor. Anyone else that the patient wishes to bring into the conversation is the PATIENT'S choice.

Not. Yours.

Not the government's.

To finish this off (for now?), I'll say this...

I know it is tiring. It is exhausting, always fighting this fight. To prove, time and again, that we matter. That we (as women, as poc, as lgbtq+, as disabled, as mentally ill, etc) are real and living people deserving of a quality of life as good as anyone else. That none of us should be treated like second-class citizens.

And right now, I'm too utterly disgusted with everyone and so completely depressed-- I have gone in waves of feeling utter screaming rage, insane laughter, and numbness.

But then I go back to the beginning -- to media, to what has always been there:

"It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Fold in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. Because they were holding on to something. What are we holding on to, Sam? That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fighting for."

So we will fight. Because despite the bad, despite the disgust and the exhaustion that weighs so heavily, there is still that good. There are still those who try to fight for that sanity. For reason. For logic.

“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.

"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

[hexastitchimera]

How genuinely fucking sick in your rotten heart do you have to be to not only be intimidated by queer children, but to hurt and even kill them.

You're grown ass adults who are terrified of CHILDREN. That's the most fucking pathetic thing I have ever seen. Take your own advice and "grow the fuck up, snowflake."

[numberoneanika]

Honestly the roleplay blogs are stronger than I am because if I saw a post where people were saying my blog was annoying and calling me corny I would jump in a large pit and rot away

[wildsaltair]

nooo Rome is NOT worth one good man's life!!! not if it's my beloved whose life is taken!!!

[tortoise-teapot]

VICTORY!!!

[salemwasnteverhere]

How the Hashira men react to your neighbor asking you to be quiet

Characters: Tengen, Sanemi, Rengoku, Obanai, Gyomei, Giyuu,

Additional shit: Swearing, Sanemi fighting said neighbor, Rengoku being blunt, mentions of sex, ooc mot likely :p

Tengen

He couldn't care less

His whole thing is being flashy and loud so he wants you to be loud

Like it's not his fault that dick is magical

After he shoos your neighbor away he makes sure to be as loud as possible that night

He's pounding into your cunt and you swear your gonna break when he whispers "okay now scream exactly how big my dick is. Don't forget the tip color-"

He gets cut off by you hitting him with the pillow

Way to ruin the mood

But that doesn't stop him and instead he goes harder, making sure the bed creaks loud ASF for your neighbor

"Not my fault he doesn't know how to please a woman." Is his main reason for doing so

He really wants you to scream his name so it's imbedded in your neighbors head

"Morning N/N!" Him to your neighbor from the balcony while your trying to get out of bed and failing

"Actually die." Both you and your neighbor to Tengen

Sanemi

Cares alot

Why the fuck is that limp dick biscuit talking to you and him? Who does he think he is?

You were the one who broke the news to him thankfully cause if Sanemi was the one who opened the door then you'd have to see your husband through glass in a prison

Just kidding. The Slayer corp would get him out of trouble if he didn't do it himself.

Anyways

Sanemi made it his goal to piss your neighbor off as much as possible

Your under him, practically creaming on his cock, and he's slamming the wall yelling "This loud enough yet?! Huh!?"

Not kidding I can see him doing that

He quite literally had you against a window where your neighbors could see him destroying you just to make them mad or uncomfortable, hopefully both.

But then he'd get pissed someone else would see you all naked and fucked out so he settled for the wall next to the window

One day your neighbor, finally having enough, bangs on your door yelling and guess who opens it...Sanemi!!

Good Lord was he waiting for this

It took one punch and the guy was out

Kinda what happens when you put a normal dude against a guy who kills demons for a living

Rengoku

He's a good neutral between caring and not caring

Like he doesn't wanna make your neighbors mad but he also loves hearing your screams

So he tries to keep you quiet during sex but fails since he gets to into it to give a fuck

The next days his loud ass voice wakes you up

"IM SORRY FOR MAKING INCREDIBLE LOVE TO MY WIFE!" He's not being sarcastic thats his genuine apology

Your facepalming and you want to die when you see your neighbor and she can't look at you

"PERHAPS SHES MAD BECAUSE HER HUSBAND CANNOT PLEASE HER!" Rengoku says casually and you know she can hear you from outside in her garden

"Inside voices!" You place your hands over his mouth to try and shut him up.

It works for a bit before he's yelling again

You love your husband but holy shit you wish he would speak normally sometimes

He's actually quiet in bed though

So your the problem (real)

Obanai

I'm not an Obanai fan so forgive me for how bad his section will be

Obanai is a quiet mf, and you're not even that loud

It's your neighbor who was the problem

A little old man whose hearing aids apparently had the power of 67 suns

You and Obanai found this out when he was outside training and your neighbor came over

He was so sweet and polite and even chuckled at Obanai's redness

Obanai cared at first but got over it

You? You make sure to not make a PEEP in bed

Okay that pisses Obanai off but he understands your reasons

At least make a gasp or sum cause he's over here like "Wait does this feel good? Can she feel it? Did I forget where the clit is?"

Brother is STRESSING

Then you cum and he's like "ah"

Then he's like "Did you take it?"

You have to keep yourself from murdering him cause how tf would you fake squirting

Gyomei

Babe I'm not gonna lie, you're a screamer

Gyomei is built like a house and your telling me your just gonna whine and whimper?

NO

Your over here crying and screaming into his chest, neck, the pillow, anything.

And Gyomei loves it!

He can't see your reactions so hearing and feeling them let's him know he's doing good

Gyomei isn't loud but he's not quiet

He'll grunt and moan and praise you, but he's not gonna cry out.

Well he'll cry but you can never tell from what

When the pussy so good you start crying 😭🙏

When your neighbor politely asked you to be a tad bit quieter Gyomei actually laughed

Not in a 'nah we'll keep being loud' way but more of a 'sorry we'll be quiet' way. He also found it hilarious how you actually died of embarrassment.

Don't worry he thinks its endearing

Yet it was kinda hard for him since he enjoyed hearing you

But your touches and now quieter moans made that better

And then there's also you literally drawing blood from his back you were scratching so hard

Giyuu

Holy shit you have never seen him so embarrassed

Like you could shade match his Haori to him and get the exact same color

He was the one your neighbor told and he stopped working when 'loud' and 'moaning' left their lips

If a demon doesn't kill him then his own actions will

Giyuu isn't loud, and he loves that he can make you feel so good that your loud for him.

But he didn't want your neighbor back over at your house so he tried to keep you quiet

You were super confused when he held his hand over your mouth in bed and he just pointed to your neighbors house. Then you got it.

So you nod and try to keep quiet.

You know in school when the teacher tells you and a friend to shut up but they look at you funny and you break?

Yeah that was you

You were riding Giyuu one night and you were loud so he was like "holy shit I love you but please- I can't look our neighbor in the eyes anymore."

And you couldn't help but laugh

Like howling

You calmed down obviously but sex was very giggle filled after that

You've never seen Giyuu so panicked

But give him a week and he'll stop caring

[thekimspoblog]

Apparently I've been CANCELED on witchcraft Tumblr because my use of the term "voodoo doll" is racist. And like... yes? But also oh my god shut up Tumblrina! All majick is a hodgepodge of practices derivative of whatever culture the practitioner pulled from. So when an angsty white american goth girl sits on her floor, draws a pentagram, and chants google-translated Latin, the effigy she created in likeness of her love interest isn't called a "spirit doll" or whatever the politically correct term is, now is it? Cultural appropriation: a thing I didn't invent.

Are people ignorant of the actual history of voodoo? Sure. Here's the wikipedia page for Marie Laveau; a lot of the stuff which fell under the umbrella of her practicing her religion was actually useful shit, like delivering babies, making medicine and generally being a community leader. If anything, I'm just disappointed the rumors of her poisoning slave owners have been greatly exaggerated.

But you know I've been doing this witchcraft thing for a while now, and let me tell you what I've figured out. Research doesn't really matter all that much.

All that matters is your intent, and mine was to bring hellfire down on GOP members in a way legally untraceable back to me. I'm not saying it's impossible to be racist while wishing death on white supremacists. I'm saying raise your hand if you actually care.

Because no matter what, the effect is the same. Jack and shit.

And if I'm wrong, may your superiorly authentic majick strike me down.

[dootznbootz]

I just wanted you to know you're very wholesome and I admire that, because it's something hard to keep as you grow older. You're like Polites on cotton candy 🍭

Oh, thank you! 🥹 That's incredibly sweet!

I always try my best to look on the bright (yet still understanding) side of things as there always is one! :D There's good in everything! Even in darker aspects of a story/myth!

There's a lot of humanity and kindness in places you wouldn't expect and it honestly feels silly to act like such things aren't possible! :D

[crabussy]

IM HITTING YOU WITH STICKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IS STILL MOTHERFUCKING BLUE!!!!!!!!!!

a gentle reminder

[phantomrose96]

Oh, hey, hey there! Hello! Sorry to bother you. Yeah I'll be out of your DMs in just a second. Yeah it's just I was passing by and realized the way you're expressing your gender or sexuality really doesn't cohere with the way that my extremely insular groupthink faction of the internet thinks gender and sexuality should be expressed. What you're doing is really problematic actually, given how much it really doesn't gel with how my group thinks gender and sexuality need to work. I just wanted to give you a friendly heads up and give you the chance to change before I do anything like call you out publically.

Oh what's that? If you change what you're doing to satisfy me, then a completely different extremely insular groupthink circle of the internet will be mad at you instead? Yeah that's completely true. Luckily this is easy! My groupthink's group-think is the correct and progressive one. Their groupthink's group-think is really problematic and narrow-minded. I hope this helps?

Oh you're still doing what you're doing. :/ Okay man it's just that there's kids in my group, you know? Teens. They're literally kids, and you're making them super uncomfortable because we told them to be uncomfortable. Won't you think of the kids? This argument has never once backfired on a member of the queer community.

Oh. Okay. Well, I mean I was being really polite and respectful and you've just been rude so. Tell you what. If in 5 years from now the narrative has shifted such that the common queer community now supports what you're doing, I'm gonna act like I actually always supported this and have always been on your side. That's a good compromise right? Cool.

Anyway, I think that's totally fair of me. I'm gonna go warn everyone I know about how you're an unsafe person to interact with. This is for protection of the queer community. I'm a very good person.

[alienzil]

Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?

Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.

Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.

Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."

Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"

Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.

Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."

Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!

He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.

Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.

He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.

He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).

He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.

He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.

He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).

All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.

Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.

Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).

Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).

So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.

Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."

Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏

Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."

With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.

After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.

Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.

The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.

Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"

Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"

Bruce: "Sure."

Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.

Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-two —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 5.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

B

"Hold him close to your chest, or he'll jump out of your arms. Here—like this."

Blue gently cradles the rabbit, then carefully tucks him into Ari's arms, guiding his hands to scoop under Grim's fluffy rear. She can't help but find it amusing that the boy who had taken her riding on such a large animal yesterday looks so wary holding a harmless bunny. A giggle bubbles up, and she bites her lip to keep it in.

"He's so... squirmy."

Blue keeps her hand on Grim, reassuring both the rabbit and him. "He's just ready for his breakfast. Want to help me feed him?"

"Sure."

Blue leads Ari to the hutch where the other rabbits are. She explains her morning routine, showing him how to supply the rabbits with enough grass, leaves, and berries to keep them healthy and plump. Not long ago, she was explaining this to Twix—the very person she forgot to say good morning to in a rush to find Ari outside. This time around, she wonders if Ari is genuinely interested or just being polite. She finds herself stealing glances at his face, studying his expressions perhaps longer than she should. His almond-shaped eyes and dark pink lips catch her attention.

He's cute.

It's not the first time the thought has crossed her mind since these strangers appeared. Cute like the men in her magazines, though he's not quite a man. Not in the way Ghost is. But he's taller than her by a head and two years older, evident in the notch on his throat and the deeper timbre of his voice.

But it doesn't matter. They are only here for a few days.

Blue closes the hutch and rocks on the soles of her boots. "Well, that was probably boring, huh? We could, um, go hunting if you want. Or to the pond. It's fun to swim there. Or maybe—" She pauses, mentally sifting through the limited activities available, frustration creeping in as none of them seem particularly impressive.

"This wasn't boring. Now I know rabbits are just as friendly as horses." He smiles.

"They are... except when Grim gets mad. Then he can be a bit of a jerk. Like if you accidentally step on his tail."

"I'd be pretty pissed if someone stepped on my tail, too."

"You don't have a tail."

"It's just a joke."

"Oh..." she fidgets with a strand of hair. "Right."

"The pond sounds good. It is fucking hot." Ari blows out a breath and swipes at the back of his neck.

"I know. So hot. Hot as balls."

Ari raises an amused brow. "Yeah, uh, hot as balls. Are you allowed to go by yourself, or do we need to ask your dad?"

"I get to do what I want," she lies easily with a shrug. "Buuuuut, we can ask Twix to go with us."

As long as Twix is with her, she suspects she can get away with not asking Ghost, who luckily is hunting with his old captain. It's not that he seems distrusting with these people as he did those first few months with Twix. Rather—she isn't thrilled about him knowing every little thing she does. She's never had anything just to herself. 

Twix is sitting on the porch, looking rather deep in thought as she skins a squirrel. Her hair is long, curtaining her face. When Blue asks if she wants to go to the pond, she agrees easily, claiming she has been meaning to cut her hair anyway with the encroaching warmth of summer. Nereida joins, too. 

Even early, the air is sticky, and the pond is cool and inviting. Ari rips his shirt off and jumps in without even a second to waste. Blue usually swims in her underwear and shirt, but she hesitates with her thumb in the belt loops of her jeans. She didn't consider that he would see her in her underwear. 

A soft touch to her shoulder. It's Twix. "Want me to grab you shorts real quick?"

"Um... yes. Yes please."

She changes into the shorts behind a tree. There is an odd pit in her stomach when she gets in the water. She doesn't quite know what it is, but it's similar to how she feels when she's scared sometimes. Ghost always tells her fear is a useless thing. It doesn't keep you alive. So she ignores it, shoves it down deep, and swims over to Ari with a purposeful splash that even wets Twix, who sits at the edge sharpening her knife.

"Damn. That's gonna cost you."

A splash is given in return, and then they are playing. High noon bounces shimmering light off the water as she tries to keep up with him, but at one point he sneaks up on her and she ends up with a mouthful. Nereida spends her time picking at some bunches of rosemary and Twix cuts her hair. But Blue doesn't notice any of that too much. When the water stills and they pause to catch their breath, Ari climbs onto a rock and shakes out his wet hair. She is quick to find a perch beside him. Absentmindedly, she pinches the bottom of her wet shirt to keep it from sticking to her chest.

"Woah. What happened here?"

Ari leans over to tap her thigh. 

"Oh—" she looks down at the thick scar, "I got shot there."

"Shit. You've been shot before?"

She nods and he moves his hand. "That's your battle scar."

"Battle scar?"

He smiles, eyes gleaming. "It's nice to have some place to swim so close by. Back at our old camp, there was lake but it was a few miles away, so my mom rarely let me go."

"I'm sorry, you know. About your mom. Mine is dead, too."

He half-smiles. "Thanks. I don't think about it too much anymore. My uncle and I have always been close so it helped to have him there." He nudges her shoulder. "You're damn lucky to have such a cool dad, huh?"

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, that guy is a beast. My uncle says they called him Ghost because no one could ever see him coming before suddenly, they were dead." 

"Oh, yeah, he is super cool," she quickly agrees. "He has taught me a lot."

"Shit, really?"

Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she shrugs to feign indifference. "I know how to throw knives pretty well."

"I gotta see that." His smirk etches a light dimple into his cheek. Then, his eyes flash behind her. "So what's up with his girlfriend?"

"Huh?" A divot forms between her brows before she follows his gaze, landing on Twix, whose hair is now just past her shoulders. She is wetting it, running her fingers through the newly cut strands. "Oh—Twix. That is not his girlfriend. She is my friend."

"You mean they don't sleep together?"

"Like in the same bed?"

"That's usually where people fuck, yeah."

He seems ready to laugh. She frowns, head tilting as confusion hums in her chest. "You mean like sex?"

He nods. "You know what that is, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I know all about it."

"You know they're probably doing it, right?"

"Ghost and Twix? No—no," she forces a laugh. "I mean, sometimes I catch him staring at her all weird. But I don't think—I mean, they hardly like each other and she is my friend, really, not his. He used to make me stay away from her, even. But I mean, they do spend a lot of time together now. It's usually to practice fighting and defense. Not to have...sex."

"Don't they share a room?"

"Just right now, because you guys are here."

Ari chuckles. "You really think they aren't fucking in there? She's really pretty. There's no way they aren't."

Blue looks back at Twix. Blue's fingers curl into the soaked fabric of her top. Her eyes flick back to him. "She would've told me if they were."

"If you say so."

T

Your thumb throbs in rhythm with the steady pump of Kyle's arms. Despite pressing it into your palm to dull the pain, the ache persists. You had nicked it while sawing off your hair, and now the taste of blood lingers in your mouth. You were still lapping at the painful pulse when the three men arrived to the pond, carrying a neon orange inflatable raft. They want to test it out on the water before embarking on the 35-kilometer journey across the channel. 

It is the third day of their presence and you can honestly say you've grown more comfortable, given that Kyle has gone hunting with you a few times now. He is easy to talk to, along with Nereida. Price—however—doesn't seem intrigued by you, or maybe you are insignificant in comparison to the rest that is on his mind. That's fair. You don't all need to be friends.

They've been spending most of their time gathering food. Ghost has been helping Price hunt deer to skin and dry into jerky they can take with them. Nereida showed you a patch of wild strawberries she found yesterday, boiling them down into jams before canning them. By having food with them, they will save time from having to hunt along the way. In perfect conditions, it would be a straight path, and they could make it to the Swiss mountains within a month or two. But it won't be a straight path, and obstacles are bound to hinder them.

Kyle audibly growls and straightens, wiping at his percolated brow. "This chamber just isn't inflating."

"It must have a hole somewhere. Check the seams," Price says.

Ghost flips the half-filled raft over with ease, running his fingers along the PVC. "Here." He taps what must be a minuscule puncture because you can't see it from where you sit. 

They patch it up with the little adhesive they have. The unease is noticeable as Kyle keeps pumping in air; they only have enough to cover a few holes, if they come across more. Finally, the six-person raft is full and they toss it onto the pond. Just the sight gets you thinking of all the variables they have to think of on the open water: the weather, currents, temperature. You had a friend in high school who swam across it once. She didn't get even halfway but having to pulled out, vomiting, and near-hypothermia. Open seawater is different than a pool. Unpredictable and quick to change.

"It seems sturdy." Nereida winds an arm around her husband's waist, pressing a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Don't worry about it."

"As long as it stays sturdy."

"It will," she assures him.

The cut has crusted over by the time evening settles and you have to will yourself not to pick at it. You find yourself alone with the horse, watching the sun set behind the trees, as everyone else eats. 

"You probably don't like being tied up here, huh? You'd rather be running around." The coarse mane engrosses your fingers. Cherry bobs her head and a wet muzzle brushes your elbow. It tickles and you smile softly. "I wonder what will happen to you once they leave," you whisper. "Horses can't fit in a raft, huh?"

"No, they can't."

A hand presses into her neck beside yours, the person's arm extending over your shoulder. You crane your neck at Kyle but his eyes are on the animal, thoughtful, brows lowered. You wet your lips and step to the side to bring more space between your bodies. 

"Not hungry either?" you ask.

Finally he looks at you, lips quirked at the side. "Nah. I had a big lunch." He stops petting her and crosses his arms, chin tilting. "Ever ridden a horse before?"

"Once or twice. As a kid."

His eyes almost lean dark green in the cast of orange light, but it must be a mere illusion. "Care to go for a ride?"

His eyebrow rises expectantly. You glance back at the cabin and then at Cherry. "Why not?"

He instructs you how to get on. You grip the knob of the saddle and flex your core, hoisting yourself with more strength than you've had to use in a few days. Kyle sits behind you and grips the reins after untying her. The last time you were on a horse was for a friend's birthday party; you trekked through a ranch on a white pony. Cherry is much taller than that one was, or maybe you're not fond of being so high up. You thread your fingers through her mane.

It is a silent ride at first as you try to ignore the sting on your butt, unused to firm leather seat. He must notice your discomfort because he tells you to relax and lean back. You do, until your spine brushes against his chest. It helps a little.

Cherry trots calmly through the trees, towards the circle of stumps that marks the east. 

"Do you think she will be able to take care of herself?" you break the quiet. 

"I'm sure she will be fine. Smart girl, huh, Cherry?"

The sun has disappeared but it isn't quite dark yet. "Are you scared?"

A breathy chuckle emits from behind you. He must realize what you are referring to—scared for the journey. "Yeah, always. I mean—I'm scared about Ari. He's the last family I got, and as old as he thinks he is, he's still young and naive. I still have to make choices for him."

"I was terrified of losing Joseph," you admit, and swallow. "He was so young and fragile. It felt like...like trying to keep an egg from cracking when your hands are made of stone. But at least I never had to take him to another country."

"That was your nephew? Joseph?"

You nod. 

"Tell me about him."

You rack your brain. "Well, he was seven. And he..." You smile to yourself. "He was the pickiest eater in the world, even when we were all starving. I could not get him to eat meat unless I practically burned it. And he liked to look at bugs. I did, too, when I was young. I used to dig up worms when it rained to show him." He hums a gentle laugh behind you. You find yourself lost in the thought of it for a second. "Sometimes I...I think about how once I die, there will be no one left to remember those little things about him. Then, he will be completely gone, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him this. You shake your head. "Sorry."

"Don't be. We gotta talk about shit like that or else we'll go crazy."

"I'm pretty sure I'm already crazy."

"Probably." A deer passes to the left and Cherry startles, but he is quick to soothe her with a flick of the reins and a stern—easy. She settles. "Are you scared?" he asks after a moment.

"Of what?"

"Of traveling so far."

"Well, I don't know if Ghost..." you trail off, absorbing the tone of his voice. You stiffen. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I mean how we're all leaving in a month."

"Wait—stop." You grip his hand over the rein with more force than necessary, urging him to bring Cherry to a halt. You twist your spine and gape at him. "What are you talking about?"

He eyes you with a frown, and rubs his neck. "Shit. I thought he already told you."

"No, he didn't. Tell me," you demand.

He clears his throat. "He, uh, agreed to come this morning, but only if we take another month to prepare and shit. Get his daughter ready, sort things out."

You try not tremble in anger as his words sink in, clenching your hands as your breath picks up. "Take me back," you breathe out, brain racing. "I want to go back now."

The ride back is silent. You feel shaken. Your nail digs deep into the nick on your thumb unthinkingly until there is a smear of blood over your fingers. The others are getting ready for bed when the two of you return, moon bright. You bite your tongue until Ghost leaves to his room, then you follow him, closing the door as gently as you can behind you.

He is halfway through peeling off his socks and stuffing them in his boots when you approach. "What happened to being a man of your word?" 

He looks up, resting his palms on his parted knees, looking far too relaxed for your liking. 

When he doesn't respond, you add, "You were supposed to tell me. You said you fucking would."

Your voice is low but harsh.

He stands, a calm understanding washing through his eyes. "I was about to tell you."

You throw up your arms but try to stay quiet. "Bullshit. You're just saying that now. You've had all day to tell me."

"I was waiting for the right time."

"You think I can't handle it," you accuse, an ugly snarl on your face. "That I don't deserve to be apart of these conversations even after everything I have done for you, and for her. I saved her life! You get pissed at me for not telling you about stupid things, meanwhile you don't communicate something so important like we are leaving with them in a month to fucking Switzerland. Does Blue know? Or do you keep your own blood in the dark, too?"

He growls quietly and takes hold of your chin, tilting your gaze to his. His touch is firm but far from bruising. "I am not lying to you. I wanted to have a conversation right now, where it could just be us. And no—I haven't told her. How I explain this to my child is not your concern." There is a command in his voice that forces you to calm down some, but your breath is still warm through your nose. He moves his hand to gently thumb a strand of shortened hair off your forehead, staring at it for a second, before gripping your chin again. "There is nothing I think you cannot handle. Now, who told you about this?"

Blotches of red crawl over your cheeks. "It doesn't...it doesn't matter."

He is visibly unsatisfied. He taps his thumb against your chin. "Tell me."

"It was...Kyle," you concede in an exhale. "He assumed I already knew."

His eyes darken. "It wasn't his place to assume."

"He didn't mean to." You reach up to pry his hand off, and he relents, leaving your jaw feeling sore. You rub it. "Why a month?" You try to change the topic.

He takes a deep, steadying breath and looks away, jaw flexing. "She needs time. I want to prepare her for all possible outcomes. I still don't think she is ready, but that doesn't matter. There won't be another opportunity like this in the future. I have to make her ready." He sits down on the edge of the bed and sits his elbows on his thighs, collecting his thoughts before adding, "And the weather is a big factor. Just because we have means to get across the water doesn't mean it will happen safely. The current is most predictable in July and August. We will wait until then."

You mentally sort through everything he is saying, willing yourself not to linger on the fact that you are beyond scared. Scared to leave the place you have finally felt safe in. Scared to clearly be the odd one out again. A tag-along. Everyone else in this group has a loved one looking out for them. You have yourself. You don't know if you have Ghost, really—not when Blue is the one he loves. His allegiance can only go so far.

"Okay," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. "A month, then. What about shelter? The nights will be our most vulnerable."

"We'll look for the safest places for the night. There'd be seven of us, so plenty of eyes to keep watch."

"And what if we run into a horde?"

"Well, we have plenty of ammo now for that." He flicks his eyes up to yours. "Thanks to you."

You nibble your cheek, palming your chest as if to calm your heart. 

"A month," he reminds you. "We will account for everything."

"Okay," you say again. There is a tinge of embarrassment over your outburst, but he doesn't seem fazed, as if you hadn't just barged in the room yelling at him. "Okay."

A click of his tongue. "Any more questions?"

"Not...not for now, I guess."

A few silent beats pass. The tension has left the room, leaving you with a wave of fatigue. Ghost must notice because he rises, gesturing to the bed. "Go on, then." 

The bed is yours again. Too exhausted to question it, you slip under the quilt, curling into a fetal position by the slanted ceiling. It's best to enjoy the warmth before you're back on the move. A week journeying through the woods was the worst you'd ever endured, barely surviving. Now, it'll be months, or however long it takes to reach the goddamn Swiss mountains.

The light flicks off. There is a groan in the mattress and heady warmth spills over you. Your eyes fly open. "What are you doing?"

"Getting some sleep."

You turn around to see him lying beside you, flat on his back, with his arms crossed behind his head. "Together?"

"Clearly neither of us fancies the floor."

You flush, feeling his firm thigh brush against yours. "Just... keep to your side."

"I'll be a gentleman, if you're worried."

"I'm not," you mumble. "How do you even sleep in that thing, by the way?"

"Like a baby."

"Don't you think it's weird that Kyle has seen you without it and I haven't?"

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Twix."

"And mental sanity doesn't suit you, Simon."

"Don't recall giving you permission to use that name."

"What, only your old captain gets to use it? How close were the two of you, exactly?"

Teasing him feels better than you're willing to admit.

He grunts. A pillow is thrashed against the side of your face. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir," you bite into the pillow.

Your instinct is to flinch closer to the edge, though it is difficult given the small size of the bed and the unnatural size of him. Your knees float off the mattress. Still, his sprawled-out position leaves points of connection. Your back, his elbow. Your feet, his calf. Small touches that do a surprisingly good job at soothing the mess in your brain.

You awake. Warm and rested.

Safe.

Morning light streams in, turning the backs of your eyelids red. Your face nudges forward until your nose brushes against fabric—a shirt. Awareness settles in slowly. Your toes stretch and brush against another set of toes. You realize you’re curled close against someone.

He’s still on his back, his right arm draped across your waist, fingertips resting on your exposed hip. Your breath hitches, and you do your best not to flinch. Your face is nuzzled into his chest, close enough to discern ribs from muscle. His steady breathing and gentle rumbles indicate he’s still asleep. You’re ready to peel yourself away when you notice your leg is on top of his, practically trapping him.

Fuck.

You stay still, devising a plan to extricate yourself without him noticing the position you're in. Then, in one swift motion, you leap up, removing all contact, and breathe hard as if ripped from a nightmare.

His eyes open and he swears. "Jesus. What was that?"

"Just a dream," you lie. "Sorry for waking you."

You jump out of the bed and practically run out before he can say anything; before he can realize how odd it'd be for you to have a dream when you haven't had one since... since staying in his room.

You lock yourself in the bathroom and grip the counter, knuckles whitening in the attempt to erode the feel of his warmth that seems to linger. A lump is forced down your throat as you lean back against the wall and close your eyes for a moment. When they reopen, you look down and lift your shirt, only to find the indent of strong fingertips brandishing your plush hip. Jesus. Your stomach knots and unknots. 

"You didn't like that," you whisper to yourself. You brush your thumb over the marks, gently at first, then palming them hard as if to erase them. You drop your shirt and look at the mirror. "You did not like that."

Before someone can stumble upon you talking to yourself, you comb your fingers through tousled strands and slip out. It seems most others are awake. How could you and Ghost have slept so long? Usually, the two of you are up with the sun. 

"Hey. Morning," you greet when you spot Blue on the porch, belly down, as she plays checkers with Kyle's nephew. She glances over her shoulder. Something in her bright eyes seems...off, but you can't put your finger on it.

"Hi. Is Ghost up yet?"

"Hm? Oh, uh—not sure. I didn't check, really."

"Okay." She looks back at the game and says nothing else. You feel as though she saw right through you. Or maybe that boy has told her everything. Surely he knows about Ghost's plans? Kyle had to have told him. Maybe that is why Blue seems upset, but like he said, it isn't your place to say anything. 

You are itching for a hunt. 

It feels urgent, for some reason. Like you want to get out of here before Ghost can be up, too. You find Kyle and he suggests that the two of you take Cherry so you can get go further south where he claims there is a meadow to look for deer. It is difficult to ride with him behind you and a bow on your back, so he wears it for you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head.

"Awfully quiet this morning. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I talked to him," is what you give. "Last night."

"Ah. How'd that go?"

"It was fine. I mean, I am getting used to the idea."

"That's good. It'll be worth it, you know. Once we get there. Finally get to have a semblance of a normal life."

A normal life. You almost snort at the thought. 

The morning grows longer, and not even the haircut can save you from the sweat that gathers. You make it to the meadow after an hour of horseback that leaves your thighs bristling. He helps you down and ties Cherry to a tree. You wade through tall, bright grasses that sway in the humid breeze. It looks vaguely familiar, stirring something in your gut that has your boots frozen for a moment. 

Kyle looks back at you, noticing that you've stopped following. "Good?"

"I just—I think I've been here once before. When I was on my own. I came this way." Your eyes scan the surrounding trees, where the meadow feeds into the forest, and an a gnarly oak with distinctive branches catches your eye. "I definitely have been here. I slept in that tree."

You push into the meadow, shaking off the memory. Staying close to Kyle, you listen as he lightly shares memories from the military, careful not to startle any potential deer. He talks about his time in Afghanistan, mentioning that his brother was also there, but at a different base. Kyle didn't even know his brother had died until weeks later because he was out in the field.

"After Afghanistan is when I met Ghost the first time."

"Oh?"

He nods. "He was my lieutenant when I went to Russia. I was scared shitless of him at first. I mean, he had a bit of a reputation and I was only 22."

"He was good at what he did," you say.

"More than that. People said he was up to some shit outside of what he did, but that was just rumors."

You think you spot a streak of gold through the grass, but it is just a stalk of wild wheat. You look back at him. "What do you mean?"

"May have heard a thing or two about him killing a guy off-duty. Of course, unconfirmed, otherwise he wouldn't have been enlisted again."

He killed someone? Like actual murder? You're about to ask more, your mind flashing back to your face pressed against him an hour earlier. Then you spot a deer. Kyle sees it too and motions for you to stay quiet. Your boots are nearly silent as you draw an arrow, squinting to see clearer. There are three deer: an adult female and two fawns. You draw the string and aim for the adult, the easier target.

"I'll get the doe," you whisper.

"Gotcha."

The beady black eyes turn your way, and you hesitate for a moment. There's movement, a flash of grey, and the doe snaps her eyes in another direction. What is she looking at? Your brows furrow, arrow following her gaze, when the answer appears: a Grey launching toward the deer. The three deer run off, and you release the arrow, aiming for the Grey's head instead.

"Motherfucker. Ruined the kill," Kyle mutters.

You weave toward the corpse, surprised to see such a fast one alone, indicating a new infection. The stench is pungent, enveloping you in a thick cloud. You shudder. The Grey writhes, your arrow lodged in its neck instead of its brain. You draw another arrow and aim when a hand suddenly grips your shoulder.

"Twix," Kyle breathes in your ear.

"What?" 

You look away from the Grey and follow Kyle's gaze, your eyes widening in horror as you realize the terrible smell isn't from this single creature. It's hundreds. A dark, grey mist that unfurls through the trees. A growing chorus of agony as their tattered bodies collide—some limping, others hurtling forward in a grotesque dance, but all converging on the meadow.

[atracaelum]

No, genuinely and with feeling: people have been disgusting me

Not blocking the urls, these are big accounts, fuck y'all. Didn't screenshot it but also shoutout to the other big account that says they just "Can't see Mithrun in a sexual way", how mysterious, why is that? Give me a bullet point list.

People love, LOVE to gush about the autism rep in Dungeon Meshi, how cute and relatable and funny Laios is with his hyperfixation and stimming and poor social skills, but a lot of those very same fans encounter a character whose disability isn't "cute" and now he's a problem, now we're having to tread lightly. Mithrun is disfigured, he requires support to live - round the clock when he's on a mission and can't maintain a basic schedule - and the support he routinely receives isn't enough to keep him truly healthy so he has chapped lips and tangles in his hair and eye bags. He has blunted affect and isn't very expressive. These are all factors of his disability. THESE people know that, and yet they're perfectly comfortable saying

He's ugly

He's impossible to connect with

He shouldn't be loved - SHOULDN'T, they are saying it's ethically wrong to portray him romantically

He can't be seen as sexually engaging

Do we see the problem?

man i've been seeing people say crazy things about mithrun and it's pretty awful considering everything the character has been through

if it was all in good fun that's dubious but it seems to come from a desire to get others to hate him.........?

it would be fucked up to say other characters are ugly for their unique physical appearances and people would get mad right? can't we extend that same consideration for mithrun? he’s barely spoken and people are openly mocking his prosthetic eye and calling him a fucking dog like it’s their job..it's just so weird and overtly ableist like a lot of other things people end up saying about him...

calling him “grandpa” though he's relatively the same age as chilchuck. if it's because of his disability then first of all wow. and that's overlooking how he's actually jacked as fuck (for an elf and especially a tallman) and a physically skilled fighter and has a lot of stamina. the reason mithrun keeps falling out is because his disability makes him overexert his powers

it might be “jokes” but i don't think it's funny anymore tbh

“we need more disability representation” yall can’t even handle mithrun!!

[harrysfolklore]

not a prize to win - cl16

summary: seeing charles with other admirers makes you upset, even though you know he loves you

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

If looks could kill, you swear that the one you were giving Charles right now would have him buried.

Being with Charles for over three years now, you were used to girls coming over to him all the time. Whether they were fans, reporters or just random women, you had seen it all. Usually, you handled it with grace, trusting in the bond you and Charles had built over the years. But today was different.

The scene replays in your mind, the influencer's high-pitched laughter ringing in your ears. She had sauntered into the Ferrari garage, her confidence palpable as she made a beeline for Charles, draped herself over him, her hands lingering a little too long on his arm, her body a little too close to his.

And what upset you the most, was the fact that Charles didn't stop her.

"Charles, darling, you're going to be amazing out there," she had gushed, batting her eyelashes.

"Thank you," Charles had smiled politely, "I have a good feeling about this race."

You had stood a few feet away, feeling an irrational surge of possessiveness. You wanted to march over, to insert yourself between them, to remind her that Charles was yours. But instead, you had stayed put, your feet rooted to the spot.

Rebecca had noticed your discomfort and had gently steered you away. "Let's go take a walk," she had suggested, leading you out of the garage.

"Do you think I overreacted?" you asked Rebecca as she gave your phone back.

"Not at all, love," she assured, "I mean, If she had been throwing herself at Carlos like that, I would be just as angry."

"I just," you said as you walked back to Ferrari hospitality, "I know he's loyal to me and he wouldn't do anything to hurt me like that, but it's not the first time he's oblivious of people shamelessly flirting with him right in front of me, and that's what upsets me."

"I get it. It's not about trust, it's about respect," Rebecca nodded sympathetically, her arm around your shoulder, "And sometimes, these girls just have no boundaries."

You sighed, feeling a little better having voiced your frustrations. "I just wish he would see it from my perspective."

As you approached the hospitality suite, you made your way towards Charles' room, after saying goodbye to Rebecca and thanking her for listening to you.

You knocked softly on the door, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and apprehension.

"Come in," Charles's voice called from inside.

You pushed the door open and stepped in. Charles looked up from his phone and sighed at the upset look still on your face.

"Amour, are you really mad at me right now?"

"I told you I was," you said, "I and thought you wanted me to come here to talk, not to keep dismissing my feelings."

Charles put his phone down and stood up, walking over to you with a concerned look in his eyes. "I do want to talk, chérie. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was ignoring your feelings. Please, tell me what's on your mind."

"She was all over you, battling her fake eyelashes and invading your personal space and you didn't mind at all."

"She was just being friendly, that's all," Charles said, trying to keep his patience.

"Just being friendly?" you gave a laugh in disbelief and raised your eyebrows at him, “Charles, that was not just friendly. That was flirtatious and disrespectful,” you said firmly, crossing your arms over your chest, “And you didn't even try to set boundaries.”

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn't want to be rude. She's an influencer and you know the team wants us to interact with them when they visit the garage. It's part of my job.”

"Part of your job? Are you listening to yourself?" your eyes narrowed, "So letting her drape herself all over you is part of your job now?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Charles winced, "I just meant that sometimes, I have to be polite, even if it makes me uncomfortable."

“But at the expense of my feelings?” you shot back, “I stood there feeling like a third wheel while she fawned over you," he reached out to take your hands, but you pulled away, stepping back, "I hate seeing them treat you like some prize they can win. And I hate even more that you don't seem to care."

"I'm sorry amour, I really am," he searched for your eyes but you looked away, "What happened today hurt you and I'm sorry for that. I don't want you to feel this way."

"It's not just about today, Charles," you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, "It's about how often this happens. Girls come up to you, they flirt, they touch you, and you don't seem to notice or care. And not it turns out it's part of your job to flirt with them."

Charles let out a deep sigh again, putting his hands on his hips and looking away from you. You could tell that he was getting frustrated, but you were upset and you needed to get this out.

"I don't flirt with them," Charles said firmly, turning back to face you. His face now showing a mixture of frustration and a bit of hurt"I might be polite, I might be friendly, but I don't flirt, I never have. The fact that you accuse me of flirting with other girls when you know how much I love you is hurting me."

"Maybe not intentionally, but that's how it feels to me," you replied, your voice softening a bit. "And it hurts me too. I know you love me, but sometimes it feels like you don't see how these interactions affect me."

"Then meet me halfway," he raised his voice a bit, not quite yelling but loud enough to make you flinch a bit, "What should I do? Ignore them or be mean to them so PR can give me shit for that later? Walk around with a 'don't speak to me because my girlfriend gets jealous' sign?"

"Don't yell at me, Charles," your voice came out as barely a whisper.

"I'm not yelling at you," Charles rubbed his face with his hands before looking at you, "I'm not, baby. I'm just trying to understand where you're coming from and why you're so upset about this. I have to get ready for the race shortly and this argument doesn't look like it's ending soon."

"You know what," you threw your hands up in surrender, "Forget I said anything, okay? I'm just a jealous freak who's in the wrong here."

You walked towards the door and grabbed the handle ready to head out, but Charles pulled you by your free hand, "Amour, come on," you turned to look at him, "I'm not getting into the car while we're like this."

"Charles, I don't want to keep arguing either," you said softly, feeling the tension in the air, "I just want you to understand why I feel this way."

Charles sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I do understand, amour. I do. And I'm sorry if I made you feel like your feelings don't matter. They do. You matter more to me than anything else," he said sincerely, stepping closer to you.

You looked up at him, seeing the genuine regret in his eyes. Despite your frustration, you knew that Charles didn't mean to hurt you. He was just caught up in the demands of his career, trying to balance his personal life with his public image.

"Go get ready for the race," you said, aware that his team would come get him any minute now, "We'll talk later, but we're okay."

You let Charles pull you closer this time, wrapping your arms around his wait and leaning forward to wrap his around your shoulders as he brought you in for a hug and pecked your head a couple of times, "I love you, okay? Don't you ever doubt that, it hurts me when you do."

"I love you too," you pulled away and pecked his lips softly, "Be safe out there, I'll see you right after."

Charles watched you leave the room, feeling a pang of regret for letting the argument escalate. He knew you were sensitive about these situations, and he hated seeing you upset. But he also felt frustrated by the accusation of flirting, especially when he believed he was just being polite.

As he got ready for the race, his mind kept drifting back to your conversation. He tried to push it aside and focus on the race ahead, but the tension lingered, affecting his concentration.

Despite the distraction, Charles managed to put in a solid performance, crossing the finish line and securing a spot on the podium. The crowd cheered as he stepped out of his car, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake off the argument with you, the hurt in your eyes haunting him.

After the podium celebrations and the interviews, Charles made his way back to the Ferrari hospitality suite. He hoped you would still be there, that you would be willing to talk and resolve things.

You were waiting for him, perched on one of the couches in the hospitality suite, your arms wrapped around yourself as you watched the post-race interviews on the screen. When Charles walked in, still in his racing suit, your eyes met and he walked towards you.

"Hey," he said softly, approaching you cautiously.

"Hey," you replied, standing up and taking a step towards him. "Congratulations on the podium."

"Thank you," he said, but there was a hesitance in his voice.

The soft look on his face was too much for you to handle, so you threw your arms around his broad shoulders and buried your face on his neck. You felt a sigh of relief leave his body and his arms come around your back.

"I hate fighting with you," you said against his neck, "Sorry for being such a brat today and almost ruining your race."

"You're not a brat, amour," Charles held you tighter, his voice gentle as he spoke, "And you didn't ruin anything. I'm sorry too for not understanding sooner."

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his racing suit. "I just get so scared sometimes, seeing all those girls trying to get your attention. I know you love me, but it's hard to watch."

"I understand, and I'll try to be more mindful," Charles cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall, "I don't want you to feel like you're not my priority because you are, always."

You leaned into him again, resting your head on his chest and feeling his hand draw circles around your back, feeling the familiar comfort of his embrace.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, and eventually your lips.

"I love you, Charlie. And I know I can be a bit jealous sometimes, but it's just because I care so much about you."

"I love you too, more than anything," he replied, his voice warm and soothing, "It's kind of hot when you get all jealous and possessive, I have to admit."

You pinched his side playfully, making him squirm, "Not when it makes us fight though, I hate when we do that."

You smiled up at Charles, feeling the tension finally dissapear, "Promise me you'll try to be more aware of those situations? And if a girl gets too handsy, you'll shut it down?"

"I promise, amour. No more obliviousness on my part," Charles said, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "And I'll make sure to maintain appropriate boundaries."

"Good," you said, snuggling closer to him. "Because you're all mine, Leclerc."

"Like I said, possessive. It turns me on," Charles teased, placing his hand above your bum.

"Charles, stop!" you moved his hand away, "We're still at your workplace with all of teammates around."

"Let's get out of here, then."