#and they're infesting my mind | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thegnomelord · 9 months ago

Note

if you write a thing about the creaming the zussy i will kiss ur boots

The boots better be shining when you're done.

How To Cure Zombies 101

CW:NSFW MDNI, crackfic obv PiV sex, TLOU Clicker trans Ghost, Top Male Reader, established relationship, happy ending, dub-con because Simon consented before he got bit but reader is apprehensive, zombie sex (does it count as necro?) how does this work? idk porn logic. Don't ask me how this happened, i hope this doesn't become what my blog becomes known for.

When the Cordyceps spread across the planet and turned millions of people into shambling mushroom infested undead, the world ended.

When Simon got bitten. . . your world ended.

You still remember it like it had been yesterday; He came back bloody, an empty look in his eyes as he showed you the bite on his arm. Your hands shook as he wrapped them around the grip of the gun and aimed it at his head. You both ended up on the floor with you crying into his chest, unable to pull the trigger.

You remember the resigned look in his eyes when he had agreed to let you do whatever you needed to him to cure him, but both of you knew there was no way, what made you immune to the fungus was as mysterious to the rest of the world as it was for you. His lips had been burning hot when he laid a soft kiss on your forehead, the last sense of warmth you've felt since the docs took him to where they kept the infected for study, your heart leaving with him.

And now?

Now the scientists that have been prodding you like a lab rat since Simon got bitten nearly a year ago say they have a way to bring his mind back, to get Simon back.

And the way to do it?

"So let me get this straight?" You begin, your voice tense, your body even tenser. "You want me to fuck the corpse of my lover? And that will cure him?"

That. You're not sure how the eggheads arrived to this conclusion, frankly all of their scientific jargons had flown over your head. All you understood was that the man you had fallen since the first time you met him could be brought back.

You sincerely hope you won't make some type of super fungus through this.

Words can't describe what you feel as you look at Simon's (is it even Simon?) bound body writhing on the gyno chair, naked and bare to you. You doubt you even know what you feel, hope and fear simultaneously curling in your stomach— You hadn't had the courage to look at him ever since the scientists took him away; The harsh laboratory lights make it easy to see the mycelium filling his veins beneath the ashy pale skin, mushroom caps growing beneath his pecs and across all other scars he has. Red and yellow mushrooms have eaten away his nose and spread out to follow the contours of his face, growing in a way that makes the mushroom caps blend together into a skull shape.

Your heart aches when you see his eyes haven't been eaten away yet, the once deep brown turned milky white and staring lifelessly past you, thrashing about in the bindings, rotten teeth gnawing on the ball gag in his mouth, small hisses and malformed muffled clicks echoing through the room.

You try to look down and you stop at his stomach, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly because your heart is beating so fast it feels like you'll have a panic attack. You have no idea if this will work and doing this to Simon only to find out it's as useless as all your previous attempts to cure him. . . you're sure it would break you. Closing your eyes and counting to ten you will yourself to focus, your eyes opening slowly and following the trail of little mushroom caps down to his groin.

It's not what you expected., but it's. . . a lot; Mushroom caps have replaced the lips of his cunt, similar to the hard growths on his head but these look thinner and longer, almost like flower petals framing his cunt, bright red at the corners and getting progressively lighter as it nears his hole. A sort of morbid curiosity compels you to reach out brushing your fingertips against the caps. They're surprisingly softer than you had expected, smooth and slick with some kind of slime. You can't help but notice how a longer stalked mushroom grows from what had been his clit.

You jerk your hand back when a second brush of your fingers makes his body to jerk back and attempt to fight against the restraints, more angry clicks vibrating his throat.

But you also notice a kind of… sweet scent in the air and it's coming from him. Cautiously you brush against the caps again, slowly dipping your fingers under to touch the gills underneath. You keep your hand where it is when he thrashes again, but you're certain that smell is stronger now, and you catch the glimpse of clear viscous slick slowly leak from his hole.

Carefully you push a finger into his hole in an attempt to stretch him out. Logically you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels wrong to just stick your cock in him; He's cold. You know he's dead but you had held out some hope that he would be warmer, that there would be some signs of life despite how stupid that sounds.

He's dry right now, but more of that clear fluid seeps around your fingers and lubes the way as you experimentally push your finger all the way up to the last knuckle, and you felt his muscles flutter around you, clenching down as if trying to draw you in deeper. His head continued to thrash around, no change in the feral behavior, but you still try to be gentle, pushing one then two fingers in and slowly scissoring him open.

You pull your fingers out when his hole has relaxed enough to let you easily slide your fingers in and out, and he's produced enough slick to completely drench your hand. You try to look at him as you press your cock against his fluttering hole, but the sight of his milky eyes almost makes you soft on the spot so you screw your eyes closed and slowly slide in.

Despite how cold and wet his cunt is, you haven't felt anyone's touch, even your own, since he got infected, and a part of you feels disgusted at how a bit of pleasure traces up your spine. He continues to hiss and click as you bottom out, his hips bucking wildly you have to press them down. You set a slower pace than you're used to, keeping your thrusts even and consistent, afraid to tear anything but your fear is seemingly misplaced. He's so much wetter than he'd ever get before he got infected, slick wetly squelching as you bottom out over and over again, clicks and snarls accompanying every move you make.

You're ashamed to say you don't last long. Fuck, is he tight you've been ignoring your body for so long that when you accidentally brush against the stalk growing from his clit and his cunt suddenly tightens up like a vice you cum on the spot, your hips doing little minute twitches as you empty so much of your cum in his cunt that your balls hurt. You pull out just as slowly, both of your mixed fluids leaking out and almost getting caught by the soft mushrooms framing his hole.

You muster up the courage to look him in the eyes, and your heart breaks when his lifeless eyes blindly stare back at you.

You feel like a fool when the first time doesn't work, he's still just a body pupated by a fungus. And you feel like an even bigger fool when you agree to do this a second time.

But the third time. . .

You don't know if it's just wishful thinking but he seems more. . . alert. His head always follows you when you approach him but now his milky eyes almost seem to be looking at your face instead of staring straight through you. He's strangely still on the chair, teeth gnawing on the ball gag but he doesn't try to get out of the restraints.

He doesn't screech when you gently caress the soft outer mushroom caps framing his cunt, instead his chest vibrates with more deep clicks. Nor does he start to wildly writhe on the chair when you slowly sink a finger into his cunt, finding it's already wet with slick. If anything he almost seems to chase(more like stumble) after the sensation, his hips doing small little movements to push your finger deeper into him.

Emboldened by childish hope you do something you hadn't before and reach with your other hand to slowly trace the long stalk of the clitshroom (not a term you coined), before rubbing the base of the cap like you would your own cock.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the gentle pressure of your fingers makes him buck into your hands and let out an ear-piercing screech that the gag has trouble muffling. You pull your hands away and that worsens the problem, the shrieking turning into literal chest rumbling snarls as Simon starts to struggle against the bindings.

Panic rushing down your system you put your hands were they were, gently stroking the 2 inch long mushroom growing from his clit. His hips buck up to chase after your hand, the snarls reverting back into shrieks, but as you stroke him longer they gradually die down to low pitched clicks and whistles. You're stumped; the clicks sound a lot like a cat's puff, his hole fluttering and clenching around your fingers as you slowly push them inside.

He's warmer now, not quite how he was before, but not cold as a corpse either. You know that you've gone completely mad by the fact he starts to gyrate his hips— grinding down just as you get knuckles deep so your fingers can brush against the sensitive spots inside him — makes your mind think that it's a bit of your Simon coming back.

You shake your head and pull your hands away, taking hold of his trembling thighs. You're greeted with another deep snarl but he quiets down immediately when you start to slowly push into him. He feels even tighter now, and you watch how his head falls back on the headrest, a long series of low clicks and whistles squirming past the gag.

His hips move to meet your slow thrusts, tight warm walls squeezing down every time you attempt to pull out just like he used to do. And that thought has your body increasing the pace automatically, your balls slapping against his ass, every sharp thrust hitting something spongy inside him and drawing out a sharp click, the rough pace leaving you panting.

Mindlessly you look up, too caught up in the moment remembering how Simon loved eye contact to remember the situation you're in.

He's looking straight at you.

You halt mid thrust, the low hiss he lets out falling on deaf ears as you tilt your head to the side. You're not insane, his eyes follow you. They're still milky, but they don't look through you. He's looking at you.

Another rough clicking sound leaves him and he thrusts his hips down against yours with enough strength to bruise, almost impatient. Despite how stupid it is you reach out and quickly unbuckle the gag with trembling fingers. "Si?" You say, unable to hide the hope in your voice. "Are you there?" You lean over him, looking hopefully into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"

His jaw moves like he's munching on a survivor, but all that leaves his mouth are more clicks and rough grunts.

Fuck. You are a fool.

A sob tears through your chest before you can stop it, ducking your head down to lay it on his chest. You're unable to keep the fresh tears from falling on him, watering the damned mushrooms that had taken him from you. You can't stop the sobs from coming, your back bowed and shoulders shaking as you cry just as much as the day you first lost him.

His chest vibrates with another long series of clicks and whistles, just pouring salt on the gaping would in your chest.

Your name rights through the room.

It's scratchy, rough, almost incomprehensible to your ears, but it's your name.

You look up so quickly you almost snap his neck. "Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. "Are you in there?" You slowly reach out to hold his face, careful not to cut your hands on the sharp mushroom caps along his cheeks.

He looks at you back, jaw moving still, but he doesn't try to bite the flesh of your palms despite your hands being right there. "Ckckck-" He clicks, pupils going from pinpricks to blown out, "Ckckrkck- Mo- ckck-ve." He manages, a thrust of his hips accompanying the order.

Your heart leaps to your throat and you can do nothing but follow it, sliding one hand down to dig your nails into his thigh, looming over him as you pull out until only the head is inside and them slam into him that there's an audible clap of skin on skin as you bottom out. A half shriek half click half "Yes!" escapes him as he throws his head back, slack jawed.

A whole range of noises escapes him as you hammer into him with all you've got, one hand remaining always on his face. You can feel him getting hotter the longer you pound into him, body shaking as each thrust nails his sensitive spot. He gets progressively tighter and tighter as you fuck into him, and you let go of his thigh to carefully strike along the long shaft of the clitshroom.

He shrieks at the top of his lungs and his cunt clenches down on you like a vice, fluttering around you and gripping your cock like it doesn't want you to pull out. It pulls you into an orgasm,

"Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. He's too silent compared to how vocal he had been a few moments ago. "Are you in there?"

His head rolls a bit, peering at you through through his lashes, tongue moving heavily in his mouth and lips twitching up into a soft of barely-there grin. "Cckck- l- ckckc- love- ckrk-you -ckkckrkckck-"

Taglist: @dead-end-stuff

#gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #the last of us cod au #the last of us #trans character #idk how this happened #Clicker Simon Ghost Riley

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salemlunaa · 7 months ago

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AIN’T NOTHING TOO BIG, BABY

don’t listen to those cheap haters

I received an ask recently that opened my eyes to the fact that a lot of you need this reminder. This really applies to everyone in the community, whether your plans are to permashift, respawn or manifest something in your current reality, listen: There is nothing too big for you to manifest. ever. I’m gonna repeat a lot of what i said in my answer but here goes anyways….

If you see someone who acts so high and mighty preaching about the law, just for them to turn around and have the audacity to tell someone that something is "too big" to manifest, then they're dumb and not someone you should be looking to for advice or opinions. And i want you to know if you think your desires are too big or you have been turned away, you’re not crazy and you’re not “asking for too much”

Do i need to remind you who you are? you’re a god meaning whatever you say goes, there is nothing too big for a god and you know it. Stop talking yourself out of it because you are scared. The law is law and will never fail no matter what your desire is. Although, if you still have trouble understanding your full potential, i recommend using methods where your subconscious mind is in full control, for example the void or SATS, but it is just as easy to manifest “huge” things with some standard methods like affirming or visualisation too! You need to get it through your skulls everything is easy for you.

Manifesting the sun to shine a little brighter is the same as manifesting being a billionaire

Manifesting your eyes to be a lighter shade is the same as revising a whole ass country for you to live in

Manifesting a substitute for your chemistry lesson because you hate your teacher is the same as manifesting an entirely new family

You guys, there is nothing too big or too small, too many hypocrites have infested this community with their bullshit, preaching about how we can do anything yet turning around to tell someone that what they want isn't possible, that what they desire “makes no logical sense”. Now tell me, if we're gods and we can do anything, how does that even make any sense?

So my loves, if you have a desire you think is “big” or “heavy” excuse my language but grab it by the balls because guess the fuck what? you’re the boss, not those close minded people who think manifesting is fake, not the loser who “believes in manifesting” but had the audacity to tell you you’re dreaming too big, not anyone else but YOU, because you’re a GOD

EVERYTHING IS EASY FOR YOU, AND YOU KNOW IT ༄ 🪸🌺💋

#salemlunaa #law of assumption #permashifting #shifting #loa #shiftblr #reality shifting #success story #the void #void concept #void state #respawning #manifesting #manifestation #master manifestor

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se-rae2 · 24 days ago

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i want to write yan batfam so bad like u can suck my dick idc, smh imagine batfam with isekai reader who's knows nothing—like, the empty void, eternal darkness but with a few specks of light type of nothing—about the dc verse. the only thing girliepop (gender neutral) knows about the verse is none other than batman himself, but even then, the stuff they know is limited.

like, their knowledge is so limited it's practically useless. they also only recently learned about the batfam, and all the stuff they've learned about the fam are just shit from random videos they saw on the internet, some of which are just random headcanons from ppl (that they stupidly thought was canon, but like, who could blame them?)

one thing they are sure of tho, are everyone's identities—identities they found on a random video, on a random tuesday, before their death (obvi).

they then proceed to just. ignore the fuck out of canon and just live their life normally in gotham cause they have virtually no ties to any prominent character in dc (that they know of) and they know that their acquired knowledge would not help them cuz they have no ulterior motive whatsoever except for maybe surviving till their fifties (and also maybe they were born in a crime ridden city much like gotham, not as bad, but close, and the whole getting mugged on a day-to-day basis was pretty much the norm both in reader's past and present life—cause god forbid the city they were born into wasn't filled to the brim with crime)

and they do a spectacular job at it, at first.

reader makes a few friends here and there, they have a stable(-ish) job that doesn't pay so bad, they have a (rat infested) apartment, and it was all going great. until they find out that one of their friends was actually a villain, a major one at that, and they've caught the eye of a few vigilantes who either:

a. think they're the victim of the big, bad villain (aka they were tricked and/or manipulated into conversing with said villain)

b. think ur conspiring with said villain for a scheme to endanger gotham and her ppl

or c. think u know nothing that the villain was the villain (the truth, but was quickly scratched off of the list because it'd be impossible not to know said villain's face, like it's physically impossible not to know cuz of how prominent this villain is so they think it's one of the two first options—but reader rlly just didn't know cuz they were too busy trying to survive in their ratty apartment to pay attention to stuff like that, and they also could not comprehend the idea of these fictional characters actually being real and pushed it to the very back of their mind)

so yeah... finally squirted the brain juice. will expand tho cuz there's more, trust 🤞

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probably-untrue-plant-facts · 8 days ago

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Am I the Asshole- newborn photography edition

I am being kind, I am being kind, I must remember that I'm being kind...

I am friends with a couple who just had a baby, but this is about them as photo clients. I did my first ever maternity shoot, couples shoot, maternity ward shoot, and they have plans for a million more shoots. I'm happy to give them super cheap rates because they're in a situation.

As friends go, they're not that great. I have a good time with them when I go over to help out, but there's always one or two things they say that I find a little off-putting. Particularly not fond of being treated like I need to be mothered. Not fond of some of the language they use. Not fond of some of the assumptions that are made in conversations. Not fond of being talked over, especially since I talk somewhat slow.

I let a lot of it go because I'm aware that some of this is the tism, some of it is trauma, some of it is a handful of other disorders, and some of it is just the way that they were brought up.

But I still help them out because I got nothing to do right now in the off season and I like helping people. So I drive to and from doc appointments, grocery shopping, general outings. Sometimes they just need to talk, so I let them talk and let some of the stuff that offends me roll off my back. Because I work with a lot of people who have extremely differing political opinions- so I am accustomed to this.

And I'm a pushover. Always have been.

We did a newborn shoot with studio lights and a backdrop and everything last week, after several attempts at rescheduling. It was my first newborn shoot EVER, and I was really proud of the results. Keep in mind that my training is in action photography- this is so very outside of my realm of expertise. There's a reason that newborn photography is its own industry. Client keeps telling me that they'll recommend me to all their other mom friends and that I'll 'make bank.' I'm not terribly jazzed about this, but if I end up being good at this, it would be a way to make extra money.

I sent them to them within the week, which is an insane turnaround for studio editing.

The night before they receive them, I'm pretty sure they're going through a mental health spiral. They call me at 10pm to tell me that they found an ear mite on one of their cats and that I should check my cat especially if he's indoor/outdoor (which he isn't) and I tell them that I will check. They tell me that the only place it could have come from was either me or the doula. I tell them that I'll check. And that they're not accusing me of anything, its just that it can be a big problem if there's an infestation. I tell them that I'll check.

"I'll check, but right now I'm trying to get to bed early because I've had a headache all day."

"You should take Imitrex for that."

Imitrex is a medicine for migraines. You should not take Imitrex for headaches. "I'm taking some Ibuprophen and going to bed early, it will be fine."

"If that doesn't work, you should take Imitrex because it will get rid of the headache fast." This person was an EMT in a previous lifestyle.

"I will not be doing that. Thank you. Good night."

Past experience with people with this cocktail of neuro-divergence tells me that this interaction was likely a result of a spiral- stress from having to take care of the baby, feeding every 2 hours, not getting much sleep, and a lot of PTSD around childbirth. It will either go away after they get some sleep or it will get worse. But it is not my responsibility to address something that's very much out of my wheelhouse.

(Turns out it wasn't an ear mite. They did apologize for calling me so late.)

Previous attempts at downloading from the gallery were not great because their phone just wasn't processing the pop up for some reason, so I've been sending them through Drive. Eats up all my space, takes forever. But it gets them to them. This time, though, they're not happy with it. They complain that its blurry, its pixelized, its not as good as the ones I've taken before. They send me a screenshot. I don't see the problem. The background is blurry, because that's an artistic choice that I made. A soft focus is very much in the style of the photos that they sent me as examples. This is one of the first times that I've had to photograph something small for them. Everything else was adults, this is a tiny baby. I assume they don't know what aperture and focal length is.

Client zoomed waaaay in on a photo of their kid and freaked out because they saw pixelation and said that they'd be uncomfortable printing it at a 4x6, let alone a larger size canvas, and that we need to reshoot ASAP because the kid is already outgrowing the clothes they bought their child. When I say 'way in,' I do mean 1/16th of the full size of the photo: a crop that no person would realistically want for a print.

But it took them three reschedulings to get the shoot we had (and every shoot we've ever done), and I can't drop everything just to do a shoot one week before my surgery.

The photo will print at 25inx14in without artifacting.

So I did some troubleshooting to make sure the problem wasn't the compression on their phone, or that they were viewing it in the preview screen. When they sent me the screenshots, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary and said that I didn't see what the problem was. It was exported at 240 dpi, which is typical for something that's going to be printed for typical household use. The only things that might have been an issue were that I didn't shoot in RAW file, and that maybe the image was overall just a little soft. Because, well, its a photo of a newborn. Stylistically, they're pretty soft.

I sent them 150 photos. WAY more than most people get for the price I was doing them at because they are my friends AND this was my first ever newborn shoot- I considered it a part of my own training to see if I can handle it.

I told them that I would do a texture/clarity pass and that I would email a download link from my gallery and that they should try looking at it on a computer instead of on the phone.

They told me that they don't want to ruin the friendship that we've made and that they feel that I'm being dismissive and that I don't care and won't listen to the problems that they see.

I insist- I would like to do a texture/clarity pass on the photos first and see if this makes a difference. Scheduling a second shoot isn't out of the question, but I can't guarantee that I will get the same results/poses from a second shoot... because its a baby and they kind of do what they want. I would like to try a simpler solution first.

I am no stranger to catastrophizing. I've done a lot of work to be able talk myself down from anxiety attacks. It doesn't always work. So I see myself in this. I run the pass, upload them to the gallery, but I pause on hitting 'send' because I know that their spouse will be home soon and they can talk it over. I send it at the time that their spouse usually gets home, I text spouse with instructions how to access them on desktop. They tell me that they worked a very long shift and that they will have to go over them tomorrow.

I tell them that it would be wise to do so- it will likely look better with fresh eyes after some sleep. I tell them to sleep well.

I am intending on getting a reasonable sized print to send to them so that they can see that it is not bad quality when it is printed.

Client texts me a 1am to tell me that they still look blurry to them. They need to do a reshoot today (Saturday) or Monday but they can't guarantee that they'll be in the best shape after their doctor's appointment so if we could do it this evening-

I told them that I am willing to reshoot the scenes specific to the ones she had issues with, but that I cannot guarantee that they will turn out the same as the first shoot, and that I need to know which specific scenes were the issue.

And I have not heard from them since.

Which is somewhat alarming, but I have been enjoying a peaceful day. I feel like I've been leaned on a little too hard and that I should have made clearer boundaries, but its somewhat hard to state your boundaries when you're constantly being interrupted.

I have a long list of thoughts in my head right now and all of them are unkind but how the fuck do you navigate a situation like this without hurting someone's feelings?

-"I'm not disregarding your feelings, I legit have no clue what you're talking about."

-"I think you're making mountains from molehills over something that essentially doesn't matter- you don't even have enough wall space in your apartment to print this in a size that it will distort."

-"Stop treating me like a child- I'm ten years older than you and I already have a mother."

-"All of the photos of me at that age were taken on a disposable camera and were destroyed in a flood. You have 150 really fucking cute photos by a professional, on a medium that has a much longer shelf life. Some goddamn perspective."

-"I do not care how bad your mental health is getting, and I don't care how fast you're spiraling, you do not treat friends like this. After all the rescheduling, all the nitpicking, and all the fucked up shit you say my fucking patience is a finite resource."

-"Why did I ever expect that someone that bulldozes over my boundaries on the regular would listen to me as a professional?"

-"I'm starting to see why your last photographer ghosted you."

-"Every professional in the world would put you on the 'do not book' list."

-"They're probably in the hospital right now because this might have triggered self harm, and that worries me but its also not my responsibility and I can't even say it would even be my FAULT."

So now I am spiraling. A little. Because its being made out that I did a poor job on my first go, when I thought I did well- I have checked and double checked to make sure that I had everything correct and I still do not see the problem. I feel like I'm being jerked around, even if unintentionally. I feel like I can't trust the quality of my work. I feel like I am, once again, the the recipient of someone's misdirected emotions just for being close enough to hit.

But every time I've enforced a boundary with someone, it gets violated and I'm just kind of like... do I attract this kind of person? Can they smell the doormat on me? And the fucked up part of this is that every person who has crossed a boundary has been the first to tell me that I need to lay down better boundaries. Like yeah- you'd know, wouldn't you bitch?

Anyways.

Am I the asshole for not wanting to do a second shoot and also for turning my phone on 'do not disturb' when I know my friend might be in the hospital?

#am i the asshole #ama #photography #newborn photography #photographers

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