#being dangerous with food being scarce.

[kittyloops]

christmas at ericsons.... gaahhhhh.....

[swordmaid]

think cannibalism should be a thing in menzoberranzan actually, or maybe it is and I haven’t known about it, but it should be a thing amongst the nobles where they eat rival lolth priestesses since they’re lolth’s fave sacrifices anyway. like if we’re all constantly vying for lolth’s approval, and you have these people who actually has her blessing (which is rare) why not….eat them….😳. like eating the priestess of a rival house would be a ritual after you’ve succeeded in bringing their house down as a way to consume lolth’s blessing, and its def an intimidation tactic and def one of the plenty weird shit nobles have done for the sake of playing their power games. maybe they eat males who are in power too if they’ve overstepped their position to remind them of their place in the hierarchy, or maybe matriarchs/nobles eat their favourite bed mate/partner so no one else can have them, kind of like actual spiders. anyway. if menzoberranzan is this immoral lethal and ruthless place cannibalism should def be a thing lol

[frecklenog]

i want you all to understand this.

insulin pens are very often used by diabetic children (or their parents, but they were very easy to use during the short time i was prescribed them when i was a child myself). they’re less cumbersome, produce less waste, and are far easier than pulling insulin from a vial with a single use syringe, as syringes are much more susceptible to air bubbles, which result in the diabetic not getting enough medication. i’m explaining this part because i know that some diabetic adults do also use them, and i’m sure that that’s true of diabetic adults in palestine with such scarce resources. when it’s life or death, you can’t really be picky.

the israeli occupation is now banning insulin pens from entering gaza.

lack of insulin results in diabetic ketoacidosis — essentially a very, very dangerous version of the effects of the keto diet. insulin is a key for the sugar from one’s food (both slow and fast acting, since all food has some carbohydrates, from nuts to potatoes to table sugar) to get from their bloodstream into their cells. without insulin, the body resorts to eating through its own fat stores rather than the sugar it cannot access and tries to flush the excess glucose that is in the blood through the urine. this results in weight loss, headaches, nausea, dehydration, blurred vision, abdominal pain, impaired mental faculties, and, if left untreated, will result in a coma, and eventually death within a matter of weeks. not “can.” it will kill you if not treated, and was largely considered a lethal diagnosis until insulin was discovered in the early 1900s and made readily available in 1922.

i’ve been in dka. admittedly, i was very young and have blocked much of it out. but i do remember that it fucking sucked. i couldn’t focus on anything, i was ravenous no matter how much i ate, and the room spinning to the point i felt like i was going to throw up became an increasingly regular occurrence. i was seven years old and wasting away like i was starved. i was dying. a few more days, and i likely would’ve gone into a coma and might not be here now.

to inflict that, willingly and knowingly, on innocent people, is nothing short of a crime against humanity, and violates the geneva conventions (item 2.a.ii. torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments and item 2.a.iii. willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health). not that the israeli occupation cares, of course, as south african prosecutors have already extensively detailed their crimes in the icj, and this one in particular has already been committed near-countless times.

this entire occupation is a genocide, and this is only one more nail in that coffin. but, as a diabetic — as a human being who has been in that state and was lucky enough to have the resources to live almost another fifteen years (with the anniversary of my own diagnosis about halfway through next month), i can’t find the words to express my disgust and rage anymore. maybe it’s selfish to be so deeply impacted by this particular blow. i don’t know. but these people have done nothing wrong but be disabled in gaza, and as someone with the same disability, i know that no one deserves this, even if they have committed a crime (which, again, these civilians, largely children, have not). i will not fucking stand for it.

we need a ceasefire. we need an end to the occupation. we need a free palestine. now.

here’s a masterpost of how you can help.

EDIT: here’s a post on how to help diabetics in gaza specifically

[twilightkitkat]

Can we talk about the dynamics of Logan "I eat anything and scarf it down immediately" Howlett and Wade "I only eat the same 10 foods in different fonts" Wilson?

Logan is used to living without. Even as a child, he had to get by when he was sick with the food his family could afford. Once he joined the military, he had to survive on the limited rations he was given. He didn't have room to be picky—he either ate what he was given or didn't eat at all. And in war, he had to eat eventually.

His preferences didn't matter. He was always treated as a soldier, a weapon, and his food reflected that. He'd get enough protein and carbohydrates to fuel his power but that was it. Food was for functional use, not to be enjoyed. It didn't matter if it tasted disgusting, he just inhaled it so the taste wouldn't linger.

He's also an extremely quick eater. He's feral and ravenous when hungry, tearing into meat with his claws and hands. He lived in the army, in the mountains, through the Great Depression, and in dangerous situations where he hunted for himself. To him, food is a scarce resource and if you don't eat it while you can, you might not have it tomorrow. So he takes gigantic bites and tears into food no matter how bland and unappealing it was because that's all he knows. His standards for food are just that it has to have nutrients and not be poisoned.

Wade, on the other hand, is more picky. If he had to choose between eating something he hates or not eating, he'd rather just starve. At first, in the army, he did eat what was given to him even if he disliked it, but it was purely for survival. He choked it down even when it made him vaguely nauseous and disgusted. But later, he'd hoard stashes of his own food that he managed to steal or barter for or bet on. It was better to be hungry most of the time than satiate his hunger temporarily only to fight to keep it down and feel sick the entire day.

The second he has the freedom to pick his own food, he sticks to things he knows he likes. That he feels comfortable with. He's picky about brands and specific types of food and how it has to be cooked or made, but he manages. He can normally find something on the menu he's OK with, even if he often has order a kid's meal. But most places have grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken tenders and macaroni, and people chalk it up to him being childish and silly, so nobody pays much attention.

Wade sees food as one of the only things he can control. He's been devoid of true choice for most of his life. He couldn't control getting cancer or being forced to turn into a horrific mutant. He couldn't save his relationship with Vanessa. When everything around him was collapsing, he hyperfixated on the little things he could control like food or clothing.

The two, together, learn to have a healthier relationship with food.

Logan was the first person to truly pay attention to Wade. To see which foods he liked and which he picked at and grimaced towards when nobody was looking. When Logan abruptly said he'd cook dinner one day, Wade was nervous, but nearly started bawling when Logan made homemade chicken tenders and macncheese. He noticed. He cared.

It was the first time Wade could be open and let someone see he was genuinely affected by food instead of him just playing it up as a lunatic. And Logan took him seriously and didn't make fun of him. He learned recipes to make the foods Wade liked but healthier and more balanced. He helped Wade finally get the nutrients he needed consistently without feeling sick to his stomach.

And Wade helped Logan too.

Logan was never allowed to have preferences. To have a sweet tooth or ask for more. To expect quality. But here Wade was, buying him some apple cinnamon-filled pastry just because he looked at it too long in the store.

Logan was never allowed to have dessert. To have sweet food just for the sake of it even after a meal. His eyes become wet as he clutches the pastry between his shaking hands and takes a bite. He's allowed this. To have the comforts in life. To eat just because it tasted good.

Someone cared about him enough to buy him what he wanted just because he'd enjoy them, not just to keep him functioning as a tool. Wade treated him as human. Like he was precious. Like he deserved the nice things in life.

And Wade reminds him of this. He stocks their kitchen with desserts that Logan likes, because he knows that Logan secretly enjoys sweet things. He sees the way he sniffs the air and wanders close to the fresh-baked goods of a bakery. He keeps snacks around the house, so Logan can eat whenever he want. Even if it isn't a "necessary meal."

And Wade learns to be more comfortable and try new variations of foods he likes that Logan makes. Because Logan knows the textures and flavors he hates and is somehow able to create a few new dishes entirely that he likes. He stops dreading mealtime or trying new foods. And Wade feels comfortable just trying the food without pressure, knowing that he can just not finish it if he doesn't want to and that someone else will.

And Logan learns to let himself enjoy eating again. To see it as less of a chore for the maintenance of his body and more as an enjoyable activity. Wade reminds him that he can eat just because he wants to and that it's OK to have preferences and ask for things. Logan feels well cared for. Pampered, almost. And he basks in the feeling of being wanted and loved and being allowed to express it through cooking and food.

[guaxinimraccoon]

(giant au) hey brad!! I know you miss being human, but what are some things you like about being giant?

(trying a different way to make comics for asks!!)

"There's actually a lot of things I like about being me! For example...

The view! The ruins of the old war are reminders of a dark past, but they create a diverse and awesome scenary. Cities without all this greenery must have been pretty boring. I see beautiful landscapes everyday! I bring my friends up here all the time so they can enjoy the view too, this makes me so happy!"

"Being me also helps to move in general. One of the biggest difficulties people face is how they will get from one settlement to another, from one supply camp to another, sometimes simply moving to a more stable and less dangerous region. Vehicles are scarce and there are dangerous animals almost everywhere outside of a stable settlement. I have no problem with this. I've gone to many places several times easily and most of the beasts don't have the courage to come near me. Migration has never been a problem"

"And of course, safety! I'm... safe, I guess? Like I said before, no animal messes with me and I'm immune to most of the diseases they carry. My skin is thick and hard to penetrate, bites and scratches do nothing. I can see clearly at night. My sense of smell makes it easy to find food..."

"No one… has the courage to try to hurt me… or get close… or talk to me… or… well... yeah..."

"... yeah, no. I'm safe. I'm definitely safe"

[saetoru]

Tee imagine being vash’s first kiss :(

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。FIRST — VASH THE STAMPEDE.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ vash has never fallen in love—not before you, that is (2.1k words)

☽ contents ⋮ mutual pining, slightly jealous vash (of nicholas), confessions, fluff

☽ notes ⋮ i don’t even think this has anything to do with the ask anymore LMAO i got carried away but here <3

“nico, get your grimy fingers off my share,” you huff, shoving nicholas’s fingers away from the last few bites of your lunch.

food is scarce these days—more so than usual, and you don’t even try to hide your hunger when you finally find a place to grab a bite. vash eyes you as your lips are curled into a soft frown, the crinkle of your brows making his throat dry—because you’re cute, even with a look of pure irritation on your face, you’re soft and angelic and you make his heart skip a beat.

“c’mon, give me a bite or two,” nicholas chuckles, sneaking his way back to reach for your share of food, “you try carrying that big ol’ cross around all day.”

this time, you slap his hand away, huffing as you shift closer to vash to put extra distance between you and nicholas. vash has to keep himself from leaning in when he feels the warmth of your body radiate against him at the proximity.

“oh, you’re such a jackass, y’know?” you grumble, rolling your eyes at the easy chuckle nicholas gives you. but vash can see it—the beginnings of a smile you try (and fail) to fight back as you shake your head. “you’re the one who insists on carrying such a flashy weapon.”

“well it saved your pretty little head a few times didn’t it?” he shoots back. nicholas is easy to talk to like that, banter filling the air between you as you dance around each other with petty taunts and sly grins and stolen touches through pokes to the forehead.

vash thinks the only time he’s ever touched you is to pull you away from danger. in fact, he thinks it’d be easier to fight off an entire city after him than pluck the courage to reach out and flick your forehead the way nicholas does. it’s so smooth, so simple, so natural—and he can from tell the way your eyes soften for nicholas that it must be love.

he glances down at his food, feels his appetite dwindle and his chest tighten, and soon enough there’s an extra share of food pressed to your hand as he stands up.

“i’m not hungry,” he smiles softly, “you have it.”

you blink for a moment before opening your mouth to protest. “but vash—”

he’s off before you can finish talking, climbing into the van and closing the door while everyone stares after his figure and blinks. you frown, looking back at nicholas who only grins wider, holding a hand out for the half eaten dinner in your hold.

“well, don’t be greedy. share the goods,” he insists.

you roll your eyes, pulling away from his outstretched hand as you glare at him.

“something’s wrong,” you announce. meryl and roberto share a look, glancing quickly between you and nicholas again before continuing eating, making your brows furrow. “you guys know, don’t you?”

“everyone does, sweet cheeks,” nicholas chuckles, shaking his head, “you’re a bit more oblivious than i thought.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you glare, but he only eyes you with amusement, turning back to finish the last few bites of his dinner before standing up and walking off, mumbling about needing a smoke under his breath.

you stare back at the van, unsure whether or not you’re supposed to go after vash—whether or not he even wants you there. it takes you a few moments of contemplation before you ultimately stand up, earning a look from meryl and a sigh from roberto.

“i’m gonna go after him,” you announce.

it doesn’t take long to walk up to the van and climb in, finding vash sitting slouched on his side of the back seat, looking out the window. he almost looks…defeated—it’s a type of vash you don’t think you’ve ever really seen.

“vash?” you ask softly, making him tense for a moment before he glances at you, offering a poor attempt of a reassuring smile.

you don’t think vash has ever successfully hidden an emotion ever in his life. for as long as you’ve known him—though it’s not been that long—he’s worn his heart on his sleeve and his emotions bared before you whether he means to or not. you sit down beside him, staring at your lap as he stares out the window again.

“hey,” he says quietly, “why aren’t you with everyone else?”

“why aren’t you?” you counter gently.

“ah, well,” he chuckles nervously, painfully aware of how close your knees are from brushing, “just wanted to sit. and think, i guess,” he says quietly.

“about what?”

“just stuff,” he mumbles.

he doesn’t want to tell you he thinks about how he must be in love with you, doesn’t want to admit as much when you’ve clearly got someone else in your heart. vash has never fallen in love—but he thinks if he’d have to give the feeling a label, it’d be you.

he thinks it has to be love when the first pair of eyes he searches for are yours, making sure you’re okay before he even thinks about checking on anyone else. what else could it be besides love when even if for a split second, the very thought of you being in danger makes his gun leave its holster and ready to aim. if not love, he’s not sure what else it could be when he’s so nervous around you, he feels words stick to his throat like he’s choking.

vash has never fallen in love before, but there’s no mistaking this feeling now that it hits him.

you’re kind—maybe a bit more than you should be to him since he does nothing but drag you into danger. the rational part of him wishes you’d stop coming with him wherever he goes, it hopes you’ll see you have so much to live for outside of cleaning up his messes. the more desperate part of him feels nauseous at the idea of you going your separate ways—he can protect you, can’t he? the desert is a dangerous place with or without him and if you’re in danger one way or another, you should stick by his side where he can keep an eye on you.

no, vash has never been in love—but he’s sure as hell seen it happen before his own two eyes in the many, many years he’s lived.

and he knows you’re in love with nicholas with one painful glance.

“c’mon vash,” you nudge his shoulder with your own, “we’re friends, i know you better than that. something’s wrong. are you upset about what those people in that last town said to you? because i’ll march right up to them and give them hell and back if—”

friends.

he’s tuned you out, too hyper focused on that awful burning sensation pooling in his chest, the one that hits him as soon as you use that cruel word. of course vash is just your friend, why wouldn’t he be? he can’t remember the last time someone actually wanted him around at all let alone as something more.

he doesn’t even notice your hand reaching for his until it lays over his fist, gently unclamping it from the fabric of his coat. he doesn’t even notice he’s been fisting it this whole time, doesn’t even notice his shoulders are tense until you lean your head on it.

“you don’t have to tell me,” you murmur gently, “i’ll wait here with you.”

“why?” he can’t help but ask, can’t help but wonder why you care to spend your time here when you could be there. with nicholas. without him.

“because i care about you.” you say it like it’s obvious, like he should already know that.

perhaps he does—you do care about him, he can see it with the way you help clean his wounds and scold him for being reckless…just maybe not in the way he wishes you would.

“are you ever going to tell nicholas how you feel?” he asks.

you sit up, shock on your face and a crease in your brows as you stare at him in bewilderment. he almost thinks he’s asked something out of line, something he should apologize for. but before he can offer you a stuttered apology, you beat him to it.

“what?” you chuckle. “do i look like i feel something for nicholas?”

“you don’t?” he sounds shocked, making you blink.

“no,” you shake your head, grimacing like the idea is an unpleasant one. “he’s a nuisance i tolerate at best.”

“oh,” is all he says, surprised. it’s silent for a moment before he hesitantly asks, “is…is there someone?”

he doesn’t want to know the answer either way. yes means the pain of knowing there’s someone else he has to let you go to. no means it’s not him even with no one else to compete with at all. but he figures whether your answer is yes or no, it’s enough to force him to let go.

“well…” you hesitate for a moment, inhaling before letting out a shaky breath and slumping back to his shoulder, “can i be honest?”

“of course,” he says instantly.

“i don’t know how you’ll take it,” you admit quietly, and he can hear the slight shakiness in your voice—like you’re nervous, like what you’re about to say will change everything.

but vash knows no matter what you’ll say, no matter what you’ll ever do, he’ll still keep loving you even if you don’t need him to.

“is it embarrassing?”

“no,” you shake your head, “well, maybe a little. depends on how you react. i might look stupid.”

“can’t be worse than running out of bullets,” he smiles softly, “i bet i looked pretty stupid then.”

“a little,” you admit, giggling. and then you both laugh softly, your cheek against his shoulder and your hand gently clasped over his. distantly, you can hear nicholas ask where you are—and you know it’s not long before you’ll lose this rare moment alone. so you take a deep breath, stare at your hand over his as you mumble, “i think i love you. a little. actually, that’s a lie—a lot. like, a whole lot.”

he blinks.

he feels his breath hitch and your shoulders tense and his heart race all at once. for a second he thinks he might’ve heard you wrong—but then you whisper how you understand if he doesn’t feel the same way, how it’s okay, really! you understand, it’s not his fault and you can still be friends because you’re fine with friends. just as long as he’s still in your life because he’s important to you and friends is better than nothing at all.

and then he cuts you off with a soft chuckle, making you pause and glance up at him with doubt on your face.

“can i be honest too?” he smiles gently, melting your heart even as it shatters just a little in your chest.

“of course,” you whisper.

“i love you too. not a little though. a lot. i thought you had a thing for nicholas, though—”

“nico is rude and smells like smoke. i wouldn’t kiss him if my life depended on it,” you interrupt with a crinkle of your nose, making him chuckle with bright eyes and love scribbled over the curves of his features.

he leans in, presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes when your hand cups a cheek gently.

“good,” he murmurs, “but don’t worry, i’ll keep you safe. your life will never depend on kissing him.”

“good,” you hum, “because i only want to kiss you.”

and then you do, slow and sweet and so in love. it’s his first kiss—he doesn’t really know what to do, but he follows your lead and learns fast, soft lips molding with yours and mingling your warm breath with his. vash doesn’t even care he’s gone this long without feeling something as gentle as being in love. he’s in love now, with you—and he’s glad you love him too and not nicholas wolfwood, the man who keeps trying to steal dinner from under your nose.

“are you two done in there already?” nicholas is pounding on the door, making you pull away with a sour look on your face. “we got places to be. better not be baby making where i’m about to sleep.”

“can’t you make one exception and kill him?” you whine, making vash chuckle before he leans to kiss you again, more chaste this time. and again, and again.

vash has never fallen in love—and he’s sure it’s because he was meant to wait this long to fall in love with you.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

[clare-875]

Silent Jealousy (Levi x Reader)

_____ Paring: Levi x Reader Summary: One embrace has Levi questioning his everything. Warnings: Fluff, a bit of Angst, Levi not knowing how to emote. Notes: The above image does NOT belong to me [AOT Masterlist] _____

When Levi saw you laughing so carefree with a young, male Scout who stood by your side, he didn't understand at first the emotion that churned restlessly within him. Suddenly it has him questioning if you ever laughed as much at the crude jokes he would share. Then that thought would be diminished just as quickly as it came. He was humanity's strongest soldier; who cares if he's unfunny? But he fails to realise, he suddenly cares because it's you. Were you truly happy with someone like him? He sees you grin widely, and then he sees your eyes shine. They are filled with joy, utter contentment... almost adoration. He fights the growing turmoil within him at the sight, the gnawing insecurity. Suddenly it has him questioning every look you sent his way. Did you ever look at him like that? Levi should know he was being stupid, that you sent him quiet gazes filled with utter love that had him never questioning. Yet he found himself forgetting every instance, every utterance of your devotion.

Levi's grip tightens on the fork in his grasp, and suddenly his appetite diminishes. Why were you not with him? He hears your voice, usually so heavenly to his ears mingle with that of the man, and Levi feels sick to his stomach. He scarcely notices Hange's concerned stare on him as they sit opposite, looking between his dangerous gaze, and following it to you. "Levi?" Their voice is muffled in his head but it causes blunt irritation to run through him as he looks up briefly. "What?" His words are sharp, voice lost in his sudden agitation as Hange looks to him, gaze wide at his abrupt change in attitude. He had been just fine moments ago; moments before you left. "Nothing but-" Levi doesn't hear any more of Hange's words however as movement catches the corner of his eyes. He turns slowly but feels his heart constrict within him, at the sight of you.

You had pulled the man into a tight embrace.

Levi feels himself move abruptly, so much so it catches the attention of other Scouts who look up shocked at his sudden movement; the ominous look in his eyes. Levi is rigid as he stands from his seat and drops his fork to the table, now withered from his grip. Hange looks to the utensil in shock and then looks at him tentatively, dumbfounded at the seeming rage that now seeps from him, but before they can say anything he is off. Levi turns away from the scene of you and him... him. If you wanted him, you could have him for all he cared. Levi's mind paces with blatant irritation and resentment as he remembers the sight of you, warm arms tight around the male scout and tries to forget the pain that reaches his heart. Tries to forget all the hurt that now burdens him, he trusted you and yet your mere embrace felt like a betrayal; he thought he was the only one you would touch in that way. Levi didn't care if he was irrational; you were all he knew and he despised that he wasn't the one you looked to. Jealousy. He tried to push that word away, but it was clear in his form, he was strangled within it.

You, on the other hand, look in surprise at the sudden scene and absence Levi caused and wonder just what had gotten him to react so drastically. You had merely told him you would go to congratulate your cousin, a new member of the Scouts. He had seemed absentminded when you left, barely acknowledging your words as he flicked through pages of paperwork by his food but he had seemed fine nonetheless. "What's wrong with him?" You turn to your cousin rolling your eyes as he grins at you suggestively. "Nothing's 'wrong' with him, he's probably just remembered some room he's gotta clean or something." Your cousin laughs at that, before patting you on the shoulder, "I still can't believe humanity's strongest is your boyfriend, didn't think anyone would take you to be honest but that's impressive." You smack him lightly at his teasing words before you hear a chorus of voices behind him, realising it is his friends calling him over. "Looks like you've gotta go anyway," you say as he grins before nodding. "It was nice seeing you though, be safe." He gives you a nod and a quick hug once again before he goes, his friends welcoming him back with shouts and yells.

You roll your eyes at the sight of rough comradery but smile. You couldn't believe it when you heard your cousin was going to join the Scouts. Honestly, it brought you anxiety and utter dread at the prospect of someone you were so close to, in proximity to so much danger; death. But you knew he had worked hard, and you knew he was just as devoted as you were. So, you were glad to see him well and hoped it would remain that way. You decide to turn back to Hange who looks at you as you approach. "Hey, where did Levi go?" You ask as Hange turns to the exit before they reply. "Beats me, kinda just up and left." You frown in confusion, at an utter loss as to what had happened as you sigh deeply. "He kept looking over at you though, wonder if that had anything to do with it." Hange grins at you as though they knew something you didn't but you shake your head, thinking it would be quicker to go find the man and ask him yourself. You quickly gather his paperwork and a plate of his untouched food and go to leave the dining hall. "I'll see you later Hange," you call out as they yell out in reply, you trying to find the traces of the man you so adored.

When you open the door to your shared chambers, it is deathly quiet, and you frown further at that as you enter, trying to find his form, and you do. Levi is silent as you put down his things on a table. His eyes are far away and his form is taut, it made you hesitant but you decided to approach him anyway. "Levi?" His face is shrouded with an emotion you have yet to see on him. His form was rigid and tense, one of anger and fierce debate. You are lost in the puzzlement of his state but Levi is lost in his hurt and so he acts on it. “Why are you here?” You expected anger but you hear disappointment in its stead, and somehow it’s worse. “What do you mean, why am I here? Why are you here? What happened?” Levi thinks he hears concern in your words but then instantly diminishes his show of foolishness, his mind returning to the man you looked and laughed and embraced so keenly. He couldn't help but feel like you had somehow let him down.

He tastes bitterness and feels it fill his form, he doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that you had him wrapped around your finger. He would scarcely admit it, but you were everything to him, and now you had him questioning his everything; you. Because of him. One man, one embrace, causing the unravelling of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. Levi felt stupid and yet he couldn't let it go. “You should go back.” Levi’s voice is low and harsh but you are still lost in your confusion. “What?” Levi’s eyes look sharply to you then and you are surprised to see his swift anger and the hurt he tries to desperately hide from you. “That man, I see the way you look at him the way you touch him. Honestly [y/n], I didn't think you'd be one to-“ Levi cuts himself off in the rage that consumes him, his hands are tight but unbeknownst to him you had finally put the dots together. Surely he couldn't mean...

“Wait Levi, him? You don’t mean my cousin do you?”

Levi looks up so quick you are almost startled by the intensity of his blank stare. “Cousin?” You can’t help it then, the lost look on his face, the blatant confusion of the whole scenario, you fall into a fit of laughter. Levi looks at you irritated but feels the weight lift off his chest slightly at your words in quiet hope. He glowers as you finally collect yourself in a breathless laugh. “Yes Levi, I told you I was going to congratulate him, were you even listening?” Levi is frozen in place as he feels utter mortification fill him to the brim. Surely you can't be serious. He had been caught within the depths of emotion, you had seen what a mere embrace would reduce him to. You let out a teasing grin as you decide to approach him then, despite enjoying his rare show of vulnerability, you know it was an honest and rather unpleasant misunderstanding. Especially to Levi who finds it hard to trust so willingly in the first place; to admit himself to love. “You didn’t think I’d get rid of you that easily did you?”

Levi’s face flushes red at your words as he tries to turn away but you see the ends of his blush reach his ears. “Shut up damned brat,” he growls but you laugh at his words and turn him back to you. He tries to avoid your prying hands but his limbs go slack as you push your head to his chest wrapping your warm arms around his torso. Levi reacts hesitantly but finally responds and feels the relief of you with him; only him. You stand for several moments as you relish the warmth of him, and the rare acceptance of such straight-forward affection. But, you just have to ruin the moment as you look up to him from within his embrace and grin. “I can’t believe the Levi Ackerman is jealous.” Nonetheless, Levi instantly released you of his form as he snatched up his paperwork and plate of food walking past you to the dining hall once more. You would follow him then, apologising half-heartedly but always treasuring the moment you saw Levi’s not-so-silent jealousy.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Fragments Pt. 1/3

Homelander / GN! Reader

Ch. 1: Fallen Angel

Summary: After a new drug rendered Homelander both powerless and amnesic, he gets saved by someone blissfully unaware of who he is.

Shoutout to @blindmagdalena who did the impossible: Making me simp for this guy. Your writing is simply impeccable! 💌

Warnings: Injury, blood, lots of exposition, not proofread

Notes: Hurt/comfort, OOC, pre-canon, Scientist! Reader, idc about logic gaps (I will cry if you point them out to me)

Four days already, and he still hasn't woken up.

Winter in the Canadian Arctic was rough, with the polar night bringing permanent darkness, as well as severe snowstorms that could last up to a week.

Luckily enough your old radio communication system was still functioning, so you were at least able to request a few necessities in advance: Food and water for another person, a doctor of course...

...and clothes for the guy you had to cut out of this ridiculous costume to patch him up properly.

Leaning back in your chair, you take some deep breaths, unable to concentrate on your work. Your glance unwillingly wanders back to the man lying on your bed, still unconscious.

Who knows how long the weather will cut you off from help arriving? You just hope he will make it until then.

Maybe it's for the better, though - since whoever had done this to him could still be out there wanting to finish the job, too.

It bordered on a miracle that he landed so close to your research station, when you were outside to notice at that. And the storm followed only shortly after you managed to pull him inside.

That man really had more luck than anything, even while having been messed up like this.

You watch him until you're sure he's still breathing and not in any discomfort, once again catching yourself admiring his handsome features.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was a literal fallen angel that crashed from the goddamn sky, right into your little front yard.

Damn it, the loneliness that came with this job made even your thoughts pathetic...

Well, to your defense, you've been raised pretty isolated your whole life, with parents being a doctor and a scientist that were devoted to spend their work at the most remote areas of the world.

It surely was a unique childhood with lots of traveling, and you were mostly spared the soulless corporate-controlled bullshit that was modern society. To add to that, your parents were never fond of using electronics for more than practical reasons. Not that there was internet connection where you lived either way.

All in all, while you obviously know about supes in general and might even have heard about Homelander the brief time you spent in civilization, the last time you've actually seen his face on a magazine or some sort was decades ago - and you didn't care enough to remember.

So it was no wonder that you were completely oblivious to who exactly was lying in your bed this whole time.

Sighing, you close your laptop with a dramatic gesture before making your way to the kitchen unit. You pour yourself a coffee to fill your rumbling stomach, having rationed the food in favor of your new involuntary roommate.

Having followed the footsteps of your parents - yet without proper funding - you led this mission all by yourself. At first it was bearable, since an elder native couple came to visit and assist you from time to time.

But your work demanded you to stay secluded from human intervention, deep in the mountains with the next tiny village being half a day march away. And now that winter made traveling scarce due to the dangers, the idea of some company certainly wasn't so bad.

You almost felt bad for being excited about him being here - whatever had happened to make him end up here was exactly the oppsite of great, after all.

Even though the emergency power aggregate was whirring loudly, the sound of strained groans reaches your ear - not the first time those past few days. So you immediately rush over to the man's side, pouring him a glass of water and dissolving some painkillers in it.

"It's gonna be alright" you assure him, unable to tell if he can even hear in this state. Blood is seeping through the makeshift bandages, making you realize you should probably reapply them soon. Maybe after the meds had some time to release their effect...

...however, just when the cup touched his lips, two icy blue eyes snapped open, making you wince.

"Don't touch me, fuck!" a raspy voice snapped at you, quite understandable in his situation. He pushed you away from him, causing you to stumble and fall as the glass scattered on the floor right next to you.

"Whe-where am I? And who the fuck are you?!"

"Who the fuck am I?" You felt almost offended at the accusation in his look, having to remind yourself that the person in front of you is in fact in an exceptional situation. "You're in my house. I found you injured in the middle of nowhere. So I should be asking you!"

His face fell in shock at the realization, internal struggle present in his features as he finally whispered - no, whimmered "I...can't remember..."

Racketing his brain around to make sense of the situation, he stumbled across his own words and repeated "I-I-I-I can't remember!"

"Can't remember what exactly?" You spoke more softly now as you got up, tentatively approaching him. He on the other hand jumped up from the bed, panic increasing with every passing second.

"Anything! I-I don't know who I am- shit, what happened?!" He was shaking, muscular chest having as he started to hyperventillate. You hesistantly put your hand on his back, feeling him tense at the sudden contact. "Please don't move too much. You're injured."

Only now he noticed the medical wraps around his chest, abdomen, left arm and both legs. Hell, his whole body was aching but the adrenaline wouldn't let this stop him from standing up, pacing around the small room.

Being overwhelmed with the situation as well, you decided it was best to tell him everything. "D-don't freak out, but we're in the middle of the arctic." Having a feeling that he wouldn't believe you - fair enough, though - you opened the door, revealing a snowy landscape. The doorway was already halfway buried under a snowy blanket, and the heavy winds were biting his exposed skin. "We'll have to wait until the storm settles. And even then, with your injuries you probably won't make it to the nearest village."

There was a long pause of silence between your explanation and his response, blinking at you in both disbelief and despair. "...if you don't know me, then how the hell did I get here?"

"My best guess is that you're a supe" you shrugged, hoping his memory loss didn't also affect his general knowledge. You pointed towards the torn bodysuit in the bin, stating matter-of-factly "You literally fell out of the sky. Even with the snow absorbing part of the impact, you should be dead - especially with those injuries."

Not really good at comforting someone, huh, you internally scolded yourself. Yet you gave it your best to calm him down and sign your goodwill.

"Sit down or your wounds will reopen." After a brief moment of looking at you all forlorn and maybe even a little distrustful, he accepted your help. You led him back to the edge of the bed, sitting next to each other as support for him to stay upright.

"Doesn't feel like anything about this body is 'super' right now..." he joked bitterly, rubbing his sides. You chuckle sympathetic, carefully patting his back in reassurance. "Maybe you don't have access to your powers because of the amnesia? I'm not quite sure how any of this works."

"Yeah, maybe..." His eyes were now locked on you, forcing a weak smile as he finally took a proper look at you. "You still didn't tell me to who I owe my life."

"Me?" as inappropriate as it was for the situation, he did manage to make you flustered just by that - and it didn't really help that he was still only in his underwear, testing your decency not to stare. "Oh, my name's Y/N Y/L/N. I'm an ecologist. Been here for eight months to document the effects of climate change on the biome, and-"

"Climate change?" he rose an eyebrow at you, "There's a goddamn snowstorm outside, woman."

Oh. He was one of those guys. Note taken.

"Anyways" you changed the topic to not provoke a pointless discussion, still unable to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. "Do you at least remember your name?"

The man clutched the ragged costume you had handed him, forcing his exhausted self to remember something, anything at all...

...but every time he tried, there was a sharp pain in his forehead that tore him away from the memories locked away somewhere in his brain.

And smehow, no matter how insane it might sound, he felt like this was his own mind's subtle warning to better keep it this way.

"I think...my name's John" he ultimately stated, rubbing his temples as his face contorted in pain. You continued rubbing circles on his back in an attempt to comfort him, whispering "Hey, don't overdo it. Focus on healing first, and then we'll see if anything else comes back. Alright?"

John nodded mutely, and you gifted him an uplifting smile, cheering "Well then, nice to officially meet you, John! Feel at home as long as you need."

He shook your hand almost symbolically, feeling almost hopeful knowing that despite the grim situation, he was supported by such a kind stranger.

"Nice to meet you too, Y/N. I'm all in your hands."

_____

A/N: This was written on my phone at 1am, so please bear with me. The next chapters are gonna be better.

[Part Two]

[zvaigzdelasas]

The family were eventually driven to an apartment in a multi-storey block where they would spend the next five weeks. “You could see the sea, not very far off in the distance,” Almog-Goldstein recalled.

On some days, they were allowed to spend time in a child’s toy-filled bedroom, but they would spent most nights sleeping on mattresses in the corridor. They were not physically harmed and often ate pitta and cheese with their captors until food became scarce.

They were always watched over by at least three of their six heavily armed guards. “Because some of them would go and fight and then come back, that’s what they told us,” Almog-Goldstein said.

The family tried to establish a relationship with their guards, engaging them in long conversations as part of a “survival mechanism”. Two spoke some English and another was learning Hebrew.

“They kept on telling us they’re not going to harm us and that we were very important to them,” Almog-Goldstein said. “But we were always terrified they would flip on us, ["][...]

The guards also discussed politics and the roots of the Israel-Palestine conflict.

“Ultimately it would always end with the guards telling us to go read history books; that we’re the ones who expelled them from their lands; we’re the ones who killed them; and we’re the ones who kept them in a pressure cooker that kept bubbling and bubbling until it erupted,” Almog-Goldstein said.

Some of the guards told the social worker they wanted to live side-by-side as neighbours, but others warned her to move away. “They told me to go to Tel Aviv but don’t return to Kfar Aza. They said: ‘We’ll return, we’ll be back.’ They asked: ‘Do you know how many we are in the organisation? On 7 October, we were 3,000. Next time we’ll be 20,000.’”

Almog-Goldstein said she also witnessed moments when her captors displayed “sensitivity and care”. One of the gunmen apologised for the killing of [her husband], whom Almog-Goldstein started dating in high school.

“We saw them cry, we saw them miss their wives,” she said. “We saw them writing letters to their wives and putting them in their pockets. We were worried about this, thinking why are you writing a letter now?”[...]

From there, the family were taken on a 40-minute walk to a supermarket. It was then that they saw the damage wreaked by the Israeli offensive for the first time.

“I saw a lot of devastation and destruction,” Almog-Goldstein said. “It made me feel terrible seeing such poverty. It was very difficult to see that. It was not a great feeling of: ‘Oh great, we Israelis showed them.’”

The three guards apologised for making the family sleep in a storage room in the supermarket but said they had some hope that the war was about to end.

The next day the supermarket was hit by shrapnel from an Israeli aerial bombardment. “It was atrocious. It was the first time we really felt like our lives were in danger,” Almog-Goldstein said.

“We heard the constant shelling and bombing getting closer and closer and could already see all the stones flying around and the rubble and shrapnel. It was closing up on us to the point where the Hamas guards put mattresses over us on the floor to cover us, and then they covered us with their bodies to protect us from our own forces’ shooting.”

When the supermarket was hit again, the Palestinians living in apartments upstairs were evacuated. The family’s guards began arguing in the pitch dark outside about where to take them next.

“But there was massive bombardment again,” said Almog-Goldstein. “There was bombs falling and they shoved us against the wall to protect us.”[...]

From there, there was another school filled with tents where Palestinian families were sheltering. Many assumed the Almog-Goldsteins were also displaced from the war and offered them food and water.

The family became hopeful that the war, then in its seventh week, was ending because their captors seemed “excited about a looming ceasefire”. But their guards told them there was nowhere safe left in Gaza and that they would have to wait it out in an underground tunnel with six female Israeli hostages, including two children.

Every encounter with captives in Gaza was truly exciting,” said Almog-Goldstein. “But three of the women were wounded, some had complex injuries, and some spoke about sexual assaults.”

She said the group discussed reporting the allegations to a Hamas commander on their release. “By and large, the Hamas commanders seemed to be receptive enough that we thought there might be a chance of relaying it,” she said.

But she doesn’t know whether that happened because most of the women were left behind. She is now desperate for the remaining hostages to return home, but added: “Having experienced how horrendous the fighting and bombardment was, I can’t really understand how you can both have that and care for the captives that are there.”

3 Mar 24

[i-was-today-years-old-when]

i learned if piranhas really are that dangerous

Piranhas are often portrayed as vicious predators that attack humans and other animals in large groups or feeding frenzies.

This image is largely exaggerated by sensational media, movies and folklore.

In reality, piranhas are mostly scavengers that feed on dead or injured animals, and rarely attack healthy prey.

They are also preyed upon by larger fish, birds, reptiles and mammals.

You see, Piranhas are freshwater fish that belong to the subfamily Serrasalminae, which includes about 60 species.

They are native to South America, where they inhabit rivers, lakes, and flooded forests.

They have a reputation for being aggressive and carnivorous, but in reality, they have a varied diet that includes plants, seeds, insects, worms, crustaceans, and other fish. Some species are also scavengers that feed on dead animals or carcasses.

Piranhas have a distinctive feature that makes them stand out from other fish: their teeth.

Piranhas have sharp, triangular teeth that are arranged in a single row on each jaw.

They can bite with a force of up to 30 times their body weight, and can easily cut through flesh and bone.

Their teeth are constantly replaced throughout their lives, ensuring that they always have a fresh set of weapons.

But does this mean that piranhas are dangerous to humans?

The answer is: it depends. Piranhas are not mindless killers that attack anything that moves.

They are actually quite timid and wary of predators, and usually swim in schools for protection.

They only attack when they feel threatened or hungry, or when they sense blood or vibrations in the water.

Most piranha attacks on humans occur during the dry season, when food is scarce and water levels are low.

This man is insane

This creates a situation where piranhas are crowded together in small pools or channels, and become more aggressive and competitive for resources. Humans who enter these waters, either accidentally or intentionally, may provoke a feeding frenzy or a defensive reaction from the piranhas.

However, even in these cases, piranha attacks are rarely fatal. Most victims suffer only minor injuries, such as cuts or bites on their feet or hands.

Some may lose a finger or toe, but this is uncommon.

There have been very few documented cases of human deaths caused by piranhas, and most of them involved children, elderly people, or people who were already wounded or sick.

So, are piranhas really that dangerous?

The answer is: not as much as you might think.

Piranhas are fascinating and misunderstood creatures that have adapted to their environment and survival needs.

[probablyasocialecologist]

On some days, they were allowed to spend time in a child’s toy-filled bedroom, but they would spent most nights sleeping on mattresses in the corridor. They were not physically harmed and often ate pitta and cheese with their captors until food became scarce. They were always watched over by at least three of their six heavily armed guards. “Because some of them would go and fight and then come back, that’s what they told us,” Almog-Goldstein said. The family tried to establish a relationship with their guards, engaging them in long conversations as part of a “survival mechanism”. Two spoke some English and another was learning Hebrew. “They kept on telling us they’re not going to harm us and that we were very important to them,” Almog-Goldstein said. “But we were always terrified they would flip on us, that they’d get an order from someone to harm us, because clearly they were low-ranking cogs in the machine. We were constantly in angst or terror.” The guards also discussed politics and the roots of the Israel-Palestine conflict. “Ultimately it would always end with the guards telling us to go read history books; that we’re the ones who expelled them from their lands; we’re the ones who killed them; and we’re the ones who kept them in a pressure cooker that kept bubbling and bubbling until it erupted,” Almog-Goldstein said.

[...]

Almog-Goldstein said she also witnessed moments when her captors displayed “sensitivity and care”. One of the gunmen apologised for the killing of Nadav, whom Almog-Goldstein started dating in high school. “We saw them cry, we saw them miss their wives,” she said. “We saw them writing letters to their wives and putting them in their pockets. We were worried about this, thinking why are you writing a letter now?”

[...]

“I saw a lot of devastation and destruction,” Almog-Goldstein said. “It made me feel terrible seeing such poverty. It was very difficult to see that. It was not a great feeling of: ‘Oh great, we Israelis showed them.’” The three guards apologised for making the family sleep in a storage room in the supermarket but said they had some hope that the war was about to end. The next day the supermarket was hit by shrapnel from an Israeli aerial bombardment. “It was atrocious. It was the first time we really felt like our lives were in danger,” Almog-Goldstein said. “We heard the constant shelling and bombing getting closer and closer and could already see all the stones flying around and the rubble and shrapnel. It was closing up on us to the point where the Hamas guards put mattresses over us on the floor to cover us, and then they covered us with their bodies to protect us from our own forces’ shooting.”

[emswritingsstuff]

Blood Root (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

summary: bonding with daryl over your cooking

note: another @caseylicious request!! this quite a while in the making and i hope you enjoy, even if it did take forever!! also highkey recommend MF DOOMs special herbs albums because i listened to them on loop while writing this

WC: 3.7k

--

Since the start of the camp at the Quarry, you had the job of cooking and making food to go around. You volunteered to do it and loved it, not to mention it made things feel somewhat normal. But, with supplies running low and resources scarce, it got hard to make things for everyone. 

It seemed meat was always in stock; thanks to the Dixons’ hunting and the Harrisons’ fishing, you never really had to worry about losing that. But spices and herbs were difficult to come by, with only a few of you knowing how to identify herbs. Not to mention, spices aren’t a priority when it comes to necessity runs. It was disheartening you had to admit. All you wanted to do was make appetizing food, or at least something better than cooked, unseasoned rabbit. 

Doing research on herbs and plants before the fall through books and such, you knew how to pick out edible plants, including fungus like mushrooms too. With that came the knowledge of harvesting and cooking, which was your favorite part no doubt. But going out into the woods was a difficult task, not because of the potential danger but because you were always needed elsewhere on camp. 

Finding herbs was tough in general, a lot of them blending in with the other plants in the woods. Luckily, mushrooms came easy with how they stuck out like sore thumbs against the green grass and dark trees. The trick was knowing what was edible and what was toxic. Everyone was always skeptical about the mushrooms, not wanting to run the risk of getting sick. Thankfully, Shane could vouch for you. You couldn’t help but feel a little bitter that no one took your word for it. But you couldn’t dwell. 

And now you’re here, stressing about the low stock of your cooking supplies and ingredients. A lot of the group was out on a run, meaning you had to pick up the slack when you weren’t cooking. Ultimately meaning you couldn’t go out and look for ingredients yourself, which upset you even more. Sitting with the thoughts racing in your head, making attempts to think of a way to get the things you needed. 

An idea soon struck, and it was honestly a shot in the dark. But it could never hurt to at least ask. 

Daryl Dixon was an expert in those woods, and thankfully the mushrooms you needed were located there. The shaggy mane mushrooms ironically sprout on game land trails, and the oyster mushrooms on fallen trees. It was almost perfect, but the hard part was getting Daryl on board. 

The Dixon’s were loners, and it was respected for the most part. They both had tempers, Daryl being more explosive than Merle. Merle had his moments too, but he was more condescending and somehow irrational than his brother. It was common for everyone to avoid them so as to not piss them off and risk an explosion. And maybe you were risking getting a bad reaction from the younger Dixon, but you couldn’t care at that moment. Desperate to restock the makeshift inventory you had, you would try anything. 

Scanning over the camp to find Daryl, you managed to spot him talking to Shane about the hunt he was about to go on. Bingo. 

When the conversation ended between them, you bolted over to Daryl. Projecting a loud “Hey,” in which he didn’t hesitate to turn around and look at you. Catching up with him, you stopped and caught your breath before cutting to the chase. “I wanted to ask if you could grab some mushrooms while on your hunt? If you see them of course.” Handing him a piece of paper, it had attempted drawings the mushrooms you needed as well as small important details to pick them out. Getting nervous, you attempted to explain yourself, “I would go out myself but with a bunch of people out, Shane has me running around this place like crazy.” What you said was followed by a nervous laugh, watching Daryl as he gave an intense side-eye to Shane. 

Taking the paper from your hands, he looked over it and nodded, “I’ll see wha’ I can get.” Nodding back you handed him a small container, “In case you find them.” Taking the container he offered you a respectful nod before walking off and disappearing the blur of the woods. 

The days dragged on while he was gone, getting antsy to see if he found anything out there. So many bland meals have come and gone, feeling helpless and upset with yourself you couldn’t do better for the group. Amongst all the thoughts, part of you had to wonder if Daryl had even done what you asked in the first place. What if he just said he would get you off his back? What if he actually didn’t find anything? All you could do was wait and dwell on those intrusive “what if” thoughts. 

Right as you started to get lost in your brain, the archer emerged from the woods, a bunch of squirrels roped around his body. Trying to focus on cleaning from that night's dinner, all you did was hope he would make his round toward you. And luckily he did, as soon as you looked back to spot him, he was coming toward you with his bag. 

Glancing at him, you muttered a fast greeting before he placed his bag on the ground and reached into it. “Found the shrooms, got some herbs too. Remember ya talkin’ to Carol about ‘em.” Daryl handed you the container full of the mushrooms and well as a dry rag that held the herbs. Your mouth was agape, in shock he did this for you. Blinking rapidly, you mustered out a speedy “thank you.” Maybe you didn’t show it, but you were ecstatic. 

Dinner the following day was much better than you anticipated. It made you feel like yourself again, the food wasn’t five star quality but you did it. You made it, and the compliments from the group added to your radiant joy. There was one thing that damped your spirits though.

And that was Daryl not coming to dinner. Him and Merle never ate with the rest of the group, usually just grabbing food and leaving, tonight was different. He didn’t come over at all. With Merle being out with the run group, he was all alone. Peeking over at him, Daryl just sat at his spot working on something you couldn’t really see. Unsure if he ate something, you made the choice to prepare a small portion of what you made for the group for him. 

Considering he was nice enough to go out and help find the ingredients, he deserved to try some. And you were going to make it happen. Approaching his space, you stood there for a minute, unsure if you should disturb him or not. It didn’t take Daryl long to notice your presence, stopping what he was doing to look up at you. No words were spoken, just simply handing him the bowl. And he ended up taking it, investigating what exactly was in there. 

Taking in a breath, you finally spoke, “You didn’t come to dinner, didn’t know if you ate or not.” Crossing your arms, you watched as Daryl nodded along and took a quick bite. “Good, it's good.” Daryl's words surprised you, even if they were muffled by the food in his mouth. “Oh, thanks.” Pausing for a minute, you continued to sneak glances while he ate. “Want more?” And by the time you asked, he was a few more bites in, perking up at the question. “Got more?” Nodding, you grabbed the bowl from him and took it to grab him more food. 

As you walked away you smiled fondly to yourself, absolutely thrilled you made the most stubborn person in the group at least a little bit happy. He may not have had a ‘happy’ expression, but you could feel the energy off of him. 

And from that point on, the relationship you had with Daryl bloomed into something more. A sort of friendship, but you weren’t entirely sure if he would’ve agreed with that. 

Nonetheless, since that day at the Quarry, you had grown accustomed to talking to Daryl about random recipes you had made in the past. Or showed him beat-up cookbooks you’d found. Just going on and on about what you could do if you had the ingredients. 

And like clockwork, Daryl magically found an ingredient or two that you talked about on a run. It would always make your day, knowing he was thinking of you and about what you talked about while out there. And without a doubt the dinners were always better. 

Hence, the dinner routine started. Daryl always got to try what you made first, your way of showing gratitude to him. He’d always take what you handed him, sometimes begrudgingly. To him, it felt like you were sort of “babying” him. Also known as, feeding him decent food. 

He tried to act all stubborn and tough, but all the walls came down the minute he tried what you made. More times than not, he would be right over as soon as the group started eating. 

After arriving at the prison, soon came the new opportunities with an almost gated off “community” you all had created. The change was good. Even if it was stressful to get used to at first. As the days went on, the more and more improvements you had made. And the more people that joined. One of the improvements was livestock and gardens. With the help of Hershel and Rick, maintaining both of them was easy and rewarding. 

Meals got better too, suddenly having so much more food and ingredients at your disposal to mess around with. And with that, came Daryl too. 

The so-called dinner routine that had been created between the two of you blossomed to something more than you letting him try the food. Once everybody’s routines got solidified, so did the time for meals. With that came Daryl always somehow being around and getting first plate was given out. 

It was adorable, you had to admit that. Daryl would never outright say it was because he enjoyed your cooking. But all of the signs were there, not to mention he’d try and play it cool every time he stuck around while you cooked. The nonchalant act he was putting out didn’t work on you at all. Not even for a single second. 

“You can just say you like my cooking, you don’t have to race for first plate everyday to show it.” Shooting him a cocky look, he just scoffed in response. “Not tha’. Jus’ got nothin’ better to do,” as you worked you sneaked fast glances at him, a smirk just on your face. 

“Really? Everyday, you have nothing better to do?” Daryl just gave you a “Please shut up” look, which caused you to eventually drop the subject. But an indescribable joy filled your heart every time you saw him waiting, even if he was so stubborn about it.

As the weeks went past, the relationship you had with Daryl grew. It sprouted into something so much more than what you would have ever thought. Amidst all the times he’s helped find ingredients or hang around you while you worked, a new feeling ignited in your chest.  You liked him, and it was a feeling you really couldn’t deny any longer. 

So, you did something about it. A feeling within you told you he felt the same, but the man was so hard to read that you were unsure. And With all the confidence you could muster, you asked him out before dinner one day. A ping of nervousness was there, thinking you misread the signs he was giving. Thankfully thought, you were right. The relationship the both of you had basically remained the same, but with more touches and kissing now. It made you happy, and it made him happy.  

Somehow within all the moments of disappointment and sorrow, you finally had something amazing. Something you never thought you would be able to have.

But like all good things come, they also go. For once you wished everyone would stay the same, thankful for the change you had. but now the prison was gone, and now you all were on the road. After being separated and being held at Terminus, everyone had changed. In one way or another. 

To you, Daryl’s was the most notable, especially after Beth. He was always stubborn, but it wasn’t like him to be so closed off and quiet. The going off by himself worried you as well, but he never wanted you to go with him. Not wanting you to see him in such a way. 

Just as everything seemed to get worse, a man named Aaron came along. Speaking of a community called “Alexandria”. It sounded too good to be true and no one believed it was true. 

No amount of pictures or “brochures” could convince the group otherwise. But Aaron was a man of his word it seemed, ultimately taking you to Alexandria to show you the real thing. 

It was a dream, you swore you had to be imagining the whole thing. Sure you had running water in the prison, and you had other “normal” things. But electricity and hot water was something you never thought could be possible again. And here it was. 

After the interviews, all of you were accepted. Getting jobs or “earning your keep” as they say. Even getting offered a home, which Aaron was kind enough to show you to.

Finally stepping into the new home, it felt even more unreal. Looking around you weren’t sure how to exactly feel about it. Aaron bashfully followed you in, Daryl sicking outside with his crossbow. Aaron slowly inched his way to be up beside you. Looking at him you gestured toward the kitchen. “You weren’t shitting us right? All of this works?” as you spoke you pointed at the oven and stove. Aaron laughed as he crossed his arms, “Take a look for yourself.”  Raising an eyebrow, you did what he said. And to your surprise, it did work. 

“Holy shit?” Aaron laughed at your amazed tone, causing you to laugh with him. “This whole place is for you and Daryl, if he ever comes inside that is,” peeking at Daryl outside you could barely see the top of his head as he sat on the deck. Shaking your head, you muttered a quick thank you before following Aaron outside. 

“There's a welcome party at Deanna’s tonight, all of you are invited. If you want to go,” looking at Daryl, you could see in his face that it was a hard ‘no’ from him. “Think we’ll just stay in, adjust to everything you know,” Aaron nodded in agreement. “I understand, but Daryl,” his head shot up as Aaron addressed him directly. “Stop over at my house at some point, have something to ask and show you,” you could see Daryl’s blank stare as Aaron spoke to him. And as if on cue, Aaron quickly made his leave, waving a goodbye before walking off to his home. 

Walking over to Daryl, you made your place right beside him. Sitting there in silence, you rested your head on his shoulder causing him to wrap an arm around you and pause working. Bringing your hand up, you captured his hand in yours. 

“I know this isn’t what you want, but I think this could be good,” you whispered quietly, causing Daryl to let out a breath. “Judith needs a roof, so does everyone else,” he couldn’t even look at you, almost ashamed. “What about you?” shaking his head, he finally looked at you. “Don’ know,” wrapping your arms around him, you let him bury his face in your neck. Letting your hand play with his hair, you began to speak again. “You should go in the house, get cleaned up. I’ll run to the pantry and I’ll make us dinner,” he grunted quietly but obliged. Placing a kiss on your head and letting himself into the home. Waiting a few minutes, you eventually got up and made your way to the pantry. 

Walking through the streets of Alexandria, it felt peaceful, like nothing can hurt you anymore. It felt silly to think such things, but maybe this place was the safe shelter you’d always strived to have. This was your fresh start. 

Once grabbing everything you needed for your dinner, without any delay you made your way back to the house. Ready to relax after days on the road. 

Entering the home the sound of running water filled your ears, signaling Daryl was in there. Smiling fondly to yourself you walked to the kitchen, ready to start dinner. Just deciding to make plain spaghetti, it was easy and something you haven’t had since the fall. Plus it was romantic in a way, or at least it was considered that in your opinion. 

Cooking up the sauce and meat, you let them simmer together while you start the noodles. Putting on the pot and letting the water boil, and while waiting you lifted yourself up on the counter and sat there. 

Sitting there for a few minutes, Daryl emerged from the hall. His hair was still wet, but he was cleaner and had a fresh set of clothes on. A gleeful smile painted your face as he walked toward you, standing still beside you. 

“Whatcha makin’” his gruff voice broke the silence, him shyly looking up at you. “Just some spaghetti, change of pace from stew and jerky,” you laughed as you spoke, even getting a chuckle out of him. Reaching your hand over to his hair, you ran your fingers through it. “How are you feeling?” 

You could see Daryl biting the inside of his cheek before responding, “Fine, don’ worry 'bout me.” Not wanting to start a bigger conversation he didn’t want to have, you dropped it. Much to your own dismay though.  

As if saved by the bell, the water had started boiling. Hopping off the counter, you placed the pasta in the pot and letting it cook. Daryl remained in his place, watching you work. 

After about a few minutes, you fished out a noodle and rinsed it off so it was cold. Putting it in your hand, he looked at you confused. “Wanna try it? See if it's done?” still holding the noodle, he went to grab it and swiftly ate it. He looked unsure and all you could do was giggle at his demeanor, “Never taste tested a noodle?” Shaking his head with a “no” your face subtly dropped, but you didn't let it ruin the moment. 

“You know, if you throw it at the wall and it sticks. Means it’s done,” getting out another noodle and washing it off, he took it from your hands. Raising his eyebrow looking at you, he threw it at the nearest wall. 

“They’re done,” he pointed at the noodle stuck on the wall. Giggling softly, you made quick work of straining the noodles and mixing them with the sauce. You took the pan with the spaghetti and set it on the table, towel under it so as to not burn the table. Daryl took it upon himself to set the table with plates and silverware, before you could even think about it. 

Both of you sat down at the table across from each other, sitting there for a moment you gestured for Daryl to take his portion first. “Shouldn’t ya? Ya made it,” pointing at him, you quickly shut him up. “That’s exactly why you get the first plate. Now, eat,” Daryl put his hands up in a surrendering motion before making his plate. As soon as he was done you got yours, prompting you to both start enjoying your dinner. 

It was silent, almost a little too silent for you. Daryl’s expression was one that signaled to you that he was thinking about something. Staring at your plate, you waited for Daryl to finish eating before you asked anything. It definitely looked like something was wrong or at least bothering him. And you were tired of waiting. 

By the time he was finished eating, he had noticed you staring. His hand waving in front of your head caused you to look at him, a questioning look on his face. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to speak.

“Daryl, tell me what's on your mind,” instantly freezing, he looked down at the cloth napkin on his legs. Obviously debating with himself on what he should say. “Jus’, thinkin’ about us,” setting down your fork, you took your hand in his. “What about us?” 

Daryl cleared his throat, stalling, still looking down. “No one’s ever done anythin’ like this for me before. Don’ know wha’ I did to deserve it,” his voice was quiet. Looking at him softly, your thumb rubbed his hand, drawing soft shapes into it. Staying quiet, he continued to speak. Just opening up to you at that moment. 

“When mom died, Merle took over cookin’. It was never like this, it’s why I liked ya so much back then.” Looking at his face, the tears in his eyes were obvious. The memories from his childhood were painful, it was a known fact between the both of you. It was rare for him to be so open like this. But it meant he felt safe. 

Bringing up the hand you weren’t holding, he wiped off his face. Sniffling in the process, he apologized for how he was acting, almost ashamed. Reassuring him it was fine, you stood up and hugged him from behind. Planting a soft kiss on his head, and after staying like that for a minute, the both of you separated. 

As you walked away you rubbed his back, picking up the dirty dishes in the process. He was quick to follow you, wanting to help with the cleanup. You almost protested, wanting to tell him you could do it, but he was already washing the dishes. As you watched him, the thought of the change in him creeped into your mind. You knew you might never fully know what was going on with him, and that was his choice, but today was a step forward. And you were thankful for that. 

[ofmdrecaps]

08/26-27/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Recap Status; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Nathan Foad; Samba Schutte; Ruibo Qian; Vico Ortiz; Bronson Pinchot; Dominic Burgess; GalaxyCon SanJose Full Panel; Articles; Rose City Comic Con OFMD S2: Anniversary; Tell Tale TV Voting Round 2; Astroglide Love; Our Flag Means Trick or Treat; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Never Left Podcast; Love Notes;

== Recap Status ==

Hey Lovelies. I don't have the greatest news... my dad is in the hospital and going into some really dangerous surgery. This means I'll probably be pretty scarce over the next couple days. I'll do my best to keep up with the recaps, they may help me stay distracted depending on how things go... but please bare with me if they don't happen. I hope you all stay safe out there. Take care <3

== David Jenkins ==

David sharing an adorable picture with his new pup, and some very silly interactions with Con.

'Source: David Jenkins Instagram

== Rhys Darby ==

So excited for the episode of Expedition X that features Rhys coming out Aug 28 on Discovery! Here's a sneak peak!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rhys Darby (@rhysiedarby)

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika's reaction to Rita's outfit is adorable.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Taika Ora (Fan Page) (@taika_ora)

Source: Instagram (Originally Rita Ora's tiktok)

More shots of the two of them:

Source: SarahReynoldsx356 Instagram via YulYY4 on Twitter

== Ruibo Qian ==

Ruibo shared some interesting work on her instagram. You can see the full collection of images here on tumblr from that post.

Source: Ruibo Qian's Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba out enjoying some glorious Dutch food and sharing more about his recent works!

Source: Samba Schutte's Instagram

== Nathan Foad ==

More Nathan out and about!

Source: Nathan Foad's Instagram Stories

Source: Nathan Foad's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico shared some wonderful words and pictures from their PublicAssembly work!

"I’ve had the absolute pleasure to act, write, co-curate and direct for @thepublicassembly since 2018. I’m currently developing a short film and writing a one person show because I have gained the confidence as a story teller through their theatre/workshop program. Every month we develop 3 brand new pieces based on the audiences prompt the month prior and while the process of writing a 12min play can be overwhelming, being held, witnessed, encouraged (and hold, witness and encourage) these wonderful artists has been an amazing experience of championing all of our journeys as story tellers! This coming month we are throwing a fundraiser to get us to the next level. Check out my linktree for tix! It’s gonna be a sexy-awesome-artistically arousing- thought provoking evening of theatre ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 Look forward to seeing you there!"

Source: Vico Ortiz Instagram

== Bronson Pinchot ==

More Ned Low from Bronson!

Source: Bronson Pinchot's Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

A pretty cool shot from Dominic!

SourcE: Dominic Burgess Twitter

Congrats Dominic for making it to the next round of the Nicholl Fellowships for his script OUT OF MIND!

Source: Dominic's Twitter

Dominic sharing an adorable video of one of his cats.

== More Galaxy Con San Jose ==

The full panel is finally here!

== Articles ==

Thank you @adoptourcrew for sharing this great article by screenrant! OFMD made #2!

Also, in WBD News, thank you to Ashley AKA Seven_Sugars on twitter for sharing this new CMO news for WBD.

Source: Seven_Sugars Twitter

Source: Global Comment's Twitter

== Rose City Comic Con ==

Are you going to be going to Rose City Comic Con this fall? Well good news, you can submit questions to be asked to the lovely OFMD Panelist that will be there-- here!

Source: RoseCityComic Con's Instagram

== S2 Year Anniversary ==

Some very kind works from @adoptourcrew <3

Source: Adopt Our Crew Instagram

== Tell Tale TV Voting Round 2 ==

Our friends at @adoptourcrew reminding us to vote on Tell Tale TV's battle of the ships 2024! Vote here!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Instagram Stories

== Some Love for/from Astroglide ==

Source: Astroglide's Twitter

== Our Flag Means Trick or Treat! ==

There's a fabulous Zine I've just heard about -- Our Flag Means Trick Or Treat! It's an OFMD Children's Charity Zine! How cool is that! Interested in participating/learning more? Please check out their socials here: Twitter / Discord

Source: OFMToT's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Another cast card tonight from our kind friend @melvisik is Elia P. Popov, one of the Special Effects Coordinators!

Source: Melvisik's Twitter

== Never Left Podcast ==

New episode of Never Left Podcast! A continuation of Motifs! Part 4 already, wow!

Source: Never Left Podcast Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Gonna be scarce for a bit lovelies. Just know I'm thinking of you and sending so much good vibes and hugs.

Source: The Latest Kate's Tumblr

Some love notes from our Pirate Queen:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by James McCrae (@wordsarevibrations)

Source: WordsAreVibrations Instagram / Ruibo's Instagram Stories

[evolutionsvoid]

During Canadian winters, it is advised to stay indoors and avoid spending too long outside, especially in the more remote regions. Certainly the snow and cold are dangerous things, and folks want to avoid hypothermia or getting lost in the chaotic frigid weather. However, there is another danger they warn about out there, one that arrives with the winter season and can be just as invisible as the insidious chill. When the ground and trees are blanketed in white snow, and the wind dies down, it can seem tranquil out there in the wintry wilds. The scene may look peaceful, with not a single soul around, but there is a chance you are actually not alone out there. A creature stirs while others may sleep, and those who tread upon the snow know well enough to do so lightly. Winter brings the snow and cold, but it also brings the Snow Wassets.

Northern folk know Snow Wassets quite well, sometimes referring to them as "Arctic Weasels." They do appear to be a mustelid, though their length and size can put other members of that family to shame. The species is known as a stealthy and deadly hunter, but only during the winter season. They burrow their long serpentine bodies beneath the snow, and slither below undetected. With sensitive ears and whiskers, they sense the sound of prey blundering across the snowy layer, and strike with unnatural speed. The hunt of a Snow Wasset is over in seconds, as they explode out of the snow and sink their long teeth into their meal. They typically aim for the throat, crushing the wind pipe and then dragging them down. When a kill is scored, they pull their prize into the snow, then use their long bodies to brush more snow over top of it, so they may dine in peace. With a layer of white disguising the hunter and the hunted, there is less of a chance of scavengers stealing from them.

Snow Wassets are incredible hunters and masters of ambush, and they are capable of taking a variety of prey down. It can eat simple rabbits and grouse, but can also feed upon the likes of wolves, deer and even man. When winter is in full swing and food is scarce, they are not likely to pass up any tempting morsel they come across. And for this reason, Snow Wassets are feared out in the wintry wilds by both man and beast. There have been a number of stories where witnesses saw a wolf pack's hunt being interrupted by an emerging Snow Wasset, taking advantage of their distraction to grab one of the canines. This same tactic is why hunters are warned about chasing blindly after prey, lest they stumble right into the jaws of a wasset.

Though the Snow Wasset is seen as a vicious winter beast, it is not always a ravenous monster. When spring time comes around, and the snow begins to melt, their hunting method ceases to work and they flee north. As the weather grows warm, their white coat grows green, to better hide themselves in the new foliage. Not only do they change color, but they grow simple limbs to help them crawl across the ground and slink through the shadows. They continue to ambush food from the underbrush, but their prey is much smaller and the wasset is far less bold than it would be in winter. Eventually, when the summer heat cranks up, the Snow Wasset will find a marsh and dig itself a burrow. There it will hibernate through the peak summer season, only waking when cooler temperatures arrive. It is when the first snow comes when the wasset will change its coat back to white and shed its crude limbs. These appendages fall off much like how a lizard may drop its tail. The Snow Wasset will head south, and soon the winter hunt will be on.

Due to their aggression and wide variety of prey, the Snow Wasset is seen as a danger and a maneater. They are often blamed for any disappearances that occur during the winter whenever the missing person had gone out to the remote woods. In the early days, the Snow Wasset's hunts were attributed to ghosts and frigid spirits, vanishing those who dared tread into the cold dark forest. In time, though, the natives of the land learned of the Snow Wasset's existence and crafted new tales and purpose for this beast. They would develop ways to confuse the predator and avoid a terrible fate, with the main method being a special way of walking across snow. The Snow Wasset relies on vibrations and sound to detect prey, and is smart enough to memorize the patterns of food. However, the natives found that moving with irregular rhythm and breaking up their sequence of steps would prevent the wassets from catching on to their presence. The resulting movement comes out very dance-like, and has been incorporated into a few of the tribe's celebrations.

While the natives were able to avoid being eaten by the Snow Wasset, their efforts didn't stop there. They figured out a way to hunt them, with the use of bait and logs. The method calls for setting up dead falls around an area, with each log aimed to roll inward once the signal is given. In the center of this ring would be live bait, whose movements would attract the wasset. When the creature attacked, the signal would be given and the logs would be released, rolling inward atop the beast. Because the Snow Wasset's long body is obscured by the snow, there is no telling where to set the trap. Thus the use of many logs to cover the area so that one may succeed in pinning its hidden body. Once the massive weasel is trapped, the hunters rush in to finish it off. Snow Wassets were rarely hunted for food, and more so for their valuable pelts. In their wintry form, they lack limbs and thus their furs come with no holes. And since their hide is designed to keep out the cold and wetness of snow, the natives found it made for excellent winter wear, sleeping bags, as well as canoes! By stretching the head across a wooden frame, a one man canoe could be easily crafted. The technique of building one, as well as hunting a wasset, is taught to every member of the tribe as a lesson in survival.

Eventually, loggers and trappers would make their way to these cold remote forests, and have their first encounters with the Snow Wasset. The natives made an attempt to warn these newcomers of the hidden beast, but their words were often brushed aside as "superstition" and "ghost stories." When folk started vanishing, then the lumberjacks started believing these tales. They attempted to learn the walking technique as a way to avoid attacks, but would screw it up most the time. Instead, their way of escaping a hungry wasset was to put spurs on their boots, which would let them scramble up trees when a wasset was around. Up there, they would simply wait til the creature got bored and left, which only worked for so long. Snow Wassets are clever beasts and can memorize sounds and patterns, and a falling tree was a noise they started getting used to. A toppling tree usually meant animals fleeing amidst the din, which meant easy pickings. And now they would learn that this noise also meant other morsels were nearby, ones that were responsible for starting all the ruckus. In time, the Snow Wassets would lurk around winter logging operations for better hunting opportunities, which also meant eating a couple lumberjacks as well. Since warding them off was a problem, and spotting them in the first place was near impossible, logging companies soon took to using poisoned bait to kill local wassets. The result was a drop in nearby populations, until only those in the remote wilderness remained.

In more recent years, with the scaling back on mass logging of these areas, the Snow Wassets have slowly returned to some of their natural ranges. However, the fear and reputation of them still lingers. The same warnings given decades ago hold true to remote towns and villages, where one should be wary about wandering through the snow. Cross country skiers and snow shoe enthusiasts are common victims, especially when many winter time tourists ignore the warnings. Some parks and alpine areas have created "Snow Wasset proof" trails and barriers to keep travelers safe, but those only protect the people who stay on them. No matter how many signs and fences you put up, someone is going to get the bright idea of pretending they don't exist. Snow Wassets have also become a popular target amongst hunters and trappers, who see them as an impressive trophy. While deer are turned into mounts and bears into rugs, hunted Snow Wassets tend to be crafted into things like fur curtains, scarves and even body pillows. While their meat isn't seen as anything special, wasset legs are viewed as a delicacy. When the time comes for the beasts to shed their limbs, folk scour the countryside to collect them. They are said to make an incredible stew or chili, while some people prefer to eat them off the bone.

Though they are feared, Snow Wassets do show up in various parts of culture. They make excellent mascots for winter sports teams, especially for bobsledding and hockey. Their green spring time versions show up at cranberry farms, as the wassets tend to hibernate in such bogs. Stuffed animals of them are also made as either toys or charming scarves. They are used as a sign of the changing seasons, be it their color shifting fur or shedding limbs. The saying "still got some green on its fur" is used when winter is not quite here yet, while "wasset finally got its shoes" is for when spring at last arrives. And of course who could forget Snow Wasset Day? The time honored tradition when folk gather around a Snow Wasset burrow and watch it emerge. If the wasset comes out and sees its shadow, it will retreat back inside and cause summer to go on for six more weeks. If they emerge without issue, then fall and winter are soon to come. Towns in the Labrador province have made a whole ceremony out of this superstition, to the point where everyone now knows Wabush Will, the famous Snow Wasset that decides how long summer lasts. Every year, people watch the event either in person or on live stream, to see the famed wasset do his thing. The tradition has gone on for decades, requiring for there to be multiple Wabush Wills. In time, each one retires and a new Wabush Will is given the official burrow for them to hibernate in and emerge from. However, it should be noted that "retired" and "too old to do the job" is the language they use to make things sound all nice and happy. One has to remember that once the wasset has left their burrow, they vanish into the wilds and go hunting. No one can control what ol Wabush Will does at that point, or who he eats. Quite a few Wabush Wills were "retired" when they were snagged by a trapper or shot in the head when they had their teeth in the throat of a skier.

While the Snow Wasset population has grown from its previous slump, many fear that their numbers may be in trouble once more. As climate change continues, the weather gets warmer and the winters more mild. Snow is not as plentiful as it once was, which means harder hunting conditions for the wassets. Spring seems to come much faster, and hotter summers call for longer hibernation. Since they have to sleep for longer, they need more food to gorge on. And with less snow in their typical ranges, they need to either move elsewhere or become more bold in their hunting. As a result, Snow Wasset attacks are slowly starting to rise, as they become desperate for food. There have even been encounters during spring, when the Snow Wasset should be more timid. But their need for food means they need to be more aggressive, and not pass up on any meals. If things don't change soon, the wasset warnings won't only apply to winter anymore....

-------------------------------------------------

"Snow Wasset"

Fearsome Critter time! I chose this one because I thought the entry would be shorter to write but oops!

[anemoiashifts]

humanizing your desired reality.

made one of these months ago on tiktok so im remastering it for here (˵•̀⤙•́˵)૭

harry potter ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ getting up early for class.

✧ working with dangerous objects / spells.

✧ navigating schools layout.

✧ living beside a forest with potentially dangerous beings.

✧ school being linked to multiple (students) deaths.

✧ pulling all nighters to study for exams & homework.

✧ being separated from non-magic folk.

✧ seemingly strict with large punishment.

marvel ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ putting life at risk.

✧ unreliable scheduling.

✧ seeing friends, family & people getting injured.

✧ the balancing of two lives.

✧ always feeling like something is coming / something always being after you.

✧ lack of (openness in) therapy

✧ inability to open up without endangering loved ones.

supernatural ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ endangering self & others.

✧ survivors guilt.

✧ lack of permanent home & space — always moving & traveling.

✧ little to no personal space.

✧ little time to mourn d3ath.

✧ being on call 24/7

✧ little sense of security or safety.

hunger games ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ being exposed to death & violence so young.

✧ starvation & dehydration.

✧ weaponizing your loved ones.

✧ physical & emotional stress / trauma.

✧ possible imposture syndrome.

✧ heavy surveillance, always being watched.

✧ never being able to predict what's going to happen.

✧ never being able to 100% trust the people around you.

the walking dead ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ never knowing when "the end" is coming.

✧ injury, infection.

✧ watching yourself & others deteriorate & not being able to do anything about it.

✧ abandoning your home & shelter.

✧ lack of stable / scarce food & water supply.

✧ the smell.

✧ discomfort of bodily horror.

stranger things ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ the stigma of therapy / asking for help.

✧ dealing with virtually unknown creatures.

✧ knowingly endangering yourself on your own or simply by association.

✧ fear of the unknown.

✧ the feeling of "never ending" & not knowing what else is coming.

✧ managing school onto of saving the world.

✧ the adjustment of not having modern technology

american horror story ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

— mixture of / general for all seasons

✧ never knowing what's coming.

✧ having to cope with supernatural.

✧ never truly being alone.

✧ possibly never getting answers.

✧ not being believed.

✧ loved ones / friends turning against you.

✧ lack of evidence.

✧ people dismissing your experiences.

✧ dying & being attached to a space, never allowing you to leave.

✧ bodily horror.

fame dr ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ constantly having eyes on you, being judged.

✧ lack of privacy.

✧ social pressure.

✧ stalkers & paparazzi.

✧ not being able to do things that you're used to — target shopping, out to dinner , going on vacation — without attracting groups of people.

✧ being a safety hazard.

✧ being seen as a character or brand instead of a person.

✧ lack of free time.

✧ words being twisted.

✧ little sympathy towards you, dismissal of problems.

[transexualpirate]

SIGNAL BOOST!!!

This is a post for our friend Moise. Moise is Trans. Moise does not know yet if they are male or female, because Moise has not yet been given the opportunity to figure it out for themselves.

They are in a difficult and dangerous situation. Moise is living in a refugee camp with a group of activists who are currently being persecuted and even attacked for their beliefs, about gender and sexuality.

Money is scarce and Moise is struggling to buy food and supplies in the refugee camp currently. They can use any and all help that we can give.

Below is Moise's story in their own words:

"Hello friends,

I am Moisse ,a member and an activist of the LGBTIQ refugees in the community of Kakuma Kenya Refugee camp located in the northern Turkana region, looking for support to help the LGBTIQ family and also children .

We are LGBTIQ also living with kids in the refugee camp starving and passing through the homophobic situation.

Unfortunately the environment of the camp is so hostile for us, we are having regular attacks and injuries inflicted upon us .

We desperately need your help in order to survive and thrive in this situation please.

Me as a transgender I moved from my mother country Uganda because I was facing alot of hatred and for me I wasn't ready to change who I am and our president doesn't allow lgbtiq persons in my country .

In Uganda my family was killed by the community members ,I managed to escape death and I had no other option other than joining a camp in Kenya to seek for asylum .

We shall appreciate any hands that will decide to support us please ."

Anything you give will be highly appreciated. Even $5 helps a ton. Thank you. We will be sending proceeds directly to Moise. If you wish to reach out to Moise yourself to donate, click here for their Tumblr link. Sharing also helps! Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

GOFUNDME LINK:

Thanks again for anything you can offer!!!! It means a lot!! <3

Thanks for love , kindness and solidarity.