#hey sounds like a plan

[snekdood]

so uh

for 1. most people are gonna take advantage of black friday and wont see your specific niche tumblr post, I hate to say it

2. the us isnt running out of money for war any time soon, so...

3. this is just antisemitism???????? all we need is some (((echoes))) around the us and israel and then I'd have no reason to suspect otherwise from op...............

[trans-queen-administrator]

One year ago, give it take a few days, I started reading Worm. I finished it in a week. I don't think I'll ever read a story that affects me as much as Taylor's did, and since it's the anniversary of me reading Worm I think I might as well get sappy and emotional and write out how much Worm impacted me.

Tw: talking about suicide

I was in a terrible spot before Worm. Behind in every single class, failing to eat or drink or even just get out of bed for entire days, ghosting all of my friends and family just because I couldn't work up the will to talk, I just rotted in my dorm all day and let the tasks pile up higher and higher because I didn't know how to dig myself up, so I just gave up. I found Worm from some stupid meme that I saw while scrolling through social media for 13 hours a day in an attempt to drown out thoughts, and for reasons I still don't know I started to read it instead of returning to my blank inertia. I hadn't had the mental willpower to read or even feel anything in months, and it was completely out of character to immediately read it instead of just saying I'd do it later.

My sleep schedule was already fucked, once I got started it wasn't really a shock that I stayed up until like 5 am.

The week went by, I got to Leviathan, the Nine, Echidna, countless incredible interludes, and somewhere early on I think Worm became some sort of last hurrah. I'm not totally sure if I would have done it, but I had rough plans for methods of killing myself. Worm is a long work, impressively so, I was telling myself I'd finish it so I had something to be at least somewhat proud of before I went. It was a means of procrastination for the end since I didn't want to leave it unfinished, and also a road to it since once I was done reading then it would be time.

I became completely closed off from the world, even more than I had been previously. I dropped any pretenses of passing or attending class, what would the point be when I wouldn't be around for the grade? My meals became even less frequent, and when I had them it was always accompanied by reading. My sleep time was cut in half, I was waking up earlier and going to bed later all to read Worm. It was a week long fugue where I ceased to exist except for my ability to read the text. Once I was done reading, that would be it for me, and since I had closed myself off from pretty much everything there were no outside sources to convince me to change my mind. Just Worm. And it managed to do it.

Something about Taylor's absolutely insane amount of willpower just hit me hard. I remember when I read Speck and was reduced to a sobbing wreck for a day that was one of my strongest thoughts about her. She just tried so hard for everything, and absolutely never gave up as long as there was some way she could try to do something. I never learned how to put all my effort into stuff, but Taylor was inspiring enough that I wanted to at least try to learn how to try. It sounds cringey to write down, but if she could try so hard that she united all of humanity to kill an omnicidal god, then I could at the very least try to eat lunch.

Speaking of lunch, I read 90% of Speck in the corner of my college dining hall. It was like 4:00 and I was the only one there somehow, which is great because I was breaking down the entire time as I read Taylor fall apart. I don't think I'll ever read anything that hurt as much as Speck.

Another part of Taylor that was just as crucial to making me want to live was showing how much her self destructiveness hurt others. How could I justify killing myself when I just read how much it fucking tore at Taylor's friends when she became Khepri? When Lisa scrambled to just barely save Taylor from a suicide attempt in the first chapter of Gold Morning? Even when she just left them behind, Rachel's anguish was palpable, so who was I to ghost my friends because I was too scared to text anyone? I always knew on a logical level people would be sad if I died, but seeing such solid depictions of hurt from similar situations just... I dunno, I couldn't justify it when it was so much clearer to me how much it would hurt people I love.

I took a day to emotionally recover from the mental rewiring that comes from finishing Worm, and then I called my parents and told them how poorly I had been doing. I hadn't done it before because I didn't want to be a burden. They were happy to help. I dropped all my classes and went home. Worm stayed with me, it gave me some sort of substance to my life, something to latch on to. Making ideas for fanfics that I'd never write, talking with friends I'd made through Worm, rereading Speck if I needed a good cry, all of it kept me going and made my life feel less flat. Like five months later I started posting to this account and that was another outlet. It was just fun to analyze the text and make up theories about this work that did so much for me, and when I finally started posting them online that was good fun too. Thank y'all for reading my dinky little rambles, somehow I've cracked 400 followers on what was originally just a place for me to write down my thoughts during lunch hour at a mental hospital. Whenever I get a detailed comment in the notes, or I see someone like/reblog 20 of my posts in a row as they scroll through, or I see the names of people I always see in my notifications it just makes my day. Y'all are lovely.

And well, now it's been a year. Worm was supposed to be the final story I read, a countdown to the end in 1.7 million words, but it managed to convince me to keep going. I didn't think I'd make it to the next year or even the next month, but it's November again and I'm still here. I'm not doing great, but I'm here and I have Worm to thank for that.

[ch1zzie]

Forgot to post this here butttt

Working on a welcome home animation and mighttttt take me a while

[wowbright]

Fic: Wedding Gifts

Fandom/pairing: Glee, Kurt/Blaine

Event: December Klaine Fanworks Challenge 2023

Words: ~2,400 words                                        

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Blaine has some unconventional wedding ideas.

Notes: This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Out of Eden, which I am still in the process of posting to AO3. It’s among the possibilities for their future. The stuff Kurt gets scandalized about is related to LDS wedding/temple ceremonies, which members are not supposed to replicate outside the temple.

* * *

“Oh my gosh, Blaine. We are not doing a presentation at the veil at our public, outdoor wedding.” Kurt spoke firmly, but how was he going to possibly win this argument? Of course Blaine would bring it up when they were naked in bed, Blaine’s legs sprawled over Kurt's thighs, his head on Kurt's chest, and Kurt an absolute pool of jelly, his brain and body spent from the things Blaine had done to him.

Let's try a new position, Blaine had said. But it hadn't just been a position. It had been a revelation: Blaine hovering over him, praising his cock and demanding things of it that Kurt wasn't sure it could deliver, not letting him come and not letting him come when Blaine was riding him past all sanity, their hands clasped together at the side of Kurt’ head and Blaine using them for leverage, pushing against them as he lifted himself up and then plunged himself back down onto Kurt's erection, over and over again, and stammering and moaning and bossy in a way that he never was outside of bed and that he had only recently begun to let himself be in it, and Kurt really did like it when Blaine got that way, because it meant that all his reservations were gone, he was afraid of nothing, and so when Blaine told him No, not yet Kurt, you can’t come yet, I still need you inside me, I need you to fuck me so slowly, I need your cock filling me up and oh stretching me and you’re oh yes you’re so big give it to me oh yes like that Kurt yeah Kurt fuck me like that give it to me give it to me I love your cock I love you oh yes— Well. It was Kurt’s pleasure to oblige.

“It's not public,” Blaine said innocently, running his thumb back and forth over Kurt’s nipple. “We sent out invitations.”

“You know what I mean. There will be non-members there. And what about the members. Are you trying to give them heart attacks?”

Blaine propped himself up on one elbow and looked down on Kurt with a seductive smile. “You mean, like I gave your member a heart attack?”

“Don't you dare bring up that mind-blowing sex when we’re talking about our relatives.”

Blaine smirked. “It was pretty mind blowing, though, wasn't it? Kurt, the things you do with your—"

“Ahem.” Kurt cleared his throat. How was he getting hard again already? When he'd orgasmed, it had felt like Blaine was pulling every last ounce of delight from the center of his body and out onto the surface, out into Blaine. But apparently his body had some secret stores Kurt didn’t know about—or, more likely, Blaine had spilled his own pleasure back into Kurt, and was doing so again now, recharging him body and soul. “You will not use orgasms as a bargaining chip in our wedding planning.”

“It wasn't just the orgasms that made it mind-blowing, though, was it?” Blaine said, and Kurt almost answered but then decided not to, because he refused to let Blaine distract him into agreeing with his cockamamie wedding ideas. He made a face at Blaine that he hoped approximated a glare.

“Oh, fine. Be that way,” Blaine said, flopping onto his back. “But who cares what they think? This wedding is for us, not them.”

“Um, technically it is for them, Blaine. Given that we're already legally married.”

“Yeah, but that was in a courthouse in front of two people we didn't even know, and this is our public declaration of love. And I want us to declare it in our own way. We said this wedding was about celebrating the roles our guests have played in our lives and inviting them to celebrate our relationship. And if people show up and they can't handle how we choose to express our love, they shouldn't come to our wedding.”

“Ah. So it's a big fuck you to your family, huh?”

“No!” Blaine pouted. “My mom would love it. She figures we're going to the celestial kingdom already. She's so bummed we can’t get sealed in the temple. But if we had a veil … and it wouldn't be the whole presentation at the veil, anyway. Just some white curtains. Lots of people have white curtains at their wedding. You have to have a canopy in case it rains, and if you have a canopy, you need to have something on the edges to keep the rain out. I'm just saying we could step through them at the start of the ceremony, instead of going down the aisle.”

In spite of himself, Kurt was becoming intrigued. He rolled on his side toward Blaine. “Together?”

“Well—” Blaine mirrored Kurt’s action. They were almost nose-to-nose. “I was thinking maybe you first, and then you could pull me through?”

Kurt almost burst out with That is not just stepping through curtains, Blaine! That's what grooms do with their brides at the veil! But Blaine looked so hopeful, and his eyes were so wide and eyelashes so long that speaking crossly would be like shooting Bambi. Kurt reached for Blaine's hand. “Are you the bride in this scenario?”

“Sort of?” Blaine said. “I don't know. It's just always the way I pictured it.”

“Always?”

“Well, since I first dreamt about it. In Germany. When I was starting to realize I was in love with you. I had a dream about you pulling me through the veil. And I couldn't explain it, but it felt so right. I guess that dream has never left me.”

“You never told me about that.”

Blaine shrugged. “It never came up. But now we have a wedding where we can do everything the way we want, the way that speaks to us? This speaks to me, Kurt.”

With the way Blaine was looking at him, that tender look that always made Kurt feel like he’d been blessed more than any other human being in the history of human beings, Kurt wanted to say yes. But if he did that, he would be ignoring his own gut. And if Blaine had taught him anything, it was that they didn't have to do that with each other. “I don't know, Blaine. I'll have to think about it. I know my relationship with the temple has changed, but it still feels … I don't know, maybe too bold? Besides, one of us pulling the other through—isn't that a little heteronormative? Just because you like to bottom doesn't make you a bride.”

“Oh, but you see, it's the opposite of heteronormative! It's reclamation. It's a challenge to narrow gender roles and the church’s myopic vision of family.” Blaine’s joyous smile turned sly. “Besides, can you really call what I just did with you bottoming?”

Kurt snickered. “You mean, because you were on top in more ways than one?

Blaine crawled over Kurt. They slotted their hands together on either side of Kurt's head. “I can take charge again for you, if you want. I know how tired you get, how you sometimes need a break from holding the reins.”

“Are you talking about sex or about wedding planning?”

Blaine smirked. “Maybe both.”

“Because next thing you're going to tell me is that you want mirrors at the wedding.”

“Well—”

“No!” Kurt protested, but it came out with a peal of giggles. “We are not doing mirrors. If you need us to stand between two mirrors so that we can see our coupledom infinitely reflected back to us, we can order that for the honeymoon suite.”

“Hmmm.” Blaine lowered himself onto Kurt, pressing the beginnings of his renewed erection onto Kurt’s belly. “That's not a bad idea.”

“You like that?” Kurt said, returning the gift by pressing his own reburgeoning arousal into Blaine’s flesh. “Besides, wouldn’t that be better? To see us naked together, joined in the flesh for eternity, me inside you and, if you want …” In spite of himself and the fact that they were already baring themselves to each other, Kurt felt himself blush. “… you inside me?”

Blaine's eyes went wide, whether from surprise or arousal, Kurt wasn't sure. “You'd want that?”

Kurt shrugged. He could be coy, too. “Only one way to find out.”

“Have you tried …?” Blaine wiggled his fingers against Kurt’s meaningfully.

Kurt wasn't sure whether to nod or shake his head. “Sort of? I mean, I did it in high school a couple times but I would get self-conscious and stop. And I’ve tried it a little when we've been apart, but I've never come from it—not because I don't think I could, but because…” Kurt felt himself flush all the way up to his hairline. “I wanted to save that for you? Which, talking about heteronormative—”

“You want me to do that, now?” Blaine said quietly, with the calm sincerity of reading a scripture verse. “You want me to finger you?”

Kurt nodded.

The initial stretch wasn't as intense as Kurt expected. Maybe that was because of the orgasm he'd had less than an hour ago, or maybe it was thanks to his occasional practice. Still, he let out a guttural moan that would have embarrassed him if it wasn't this and it wasn't with Blaine.

“You okay?” whispered Blaine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kurt panted. “Keep—” A spark ignited deep in Kurt’s groin. “Oh!” He had liked this in high school. He’d enjoyed it in each of his practice sessions. But here, with Blaine on top of him, kissing him and moving his finger carefully inside him, it was beyond enjoyment. Because it was them—their bodies moving together, serving each other. Because with Blaine, Kurt could be himself, free and unashamed.

Blaine slid his finger in and out, whispering to him softly, asking him what he liked and what he wanted and what felt good, “because I want you to feel good, Kurt, I want you to feel so good.”

And Kurt tried to be snarky, but it came out as, “Not so—oh—not so—yes. Blaine.—not so bossy—oh God oh God oh God—not so bo—ahhhh—ssy now, a-are you?”

“You want more of that?” Blaine asked tenderly. “Another finger?”

And Kurt didn't even have to think about it, the words just came out of his mouth, pleading, “Yes. Oh, yes.”

Now Kurt was starting to feel the stretch, and he liked this, too, liked the way his body could open for and accommodate Blaine, liked that he'd been designed to experience pleasure in multiple ways, and now was not the time to analyze if he liked this better or the same or less or if it was just different, a different way to love Blaine and draw closer to him, a different way to experience his body and the goodness of his physicality and his desire.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” Blaine asked like he was whispering a special request to Kurt at sacrament meeting.

Kurt shook his head. “Kiss me.”

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed—the way they used to on their little loveseat in Germany, back when they had rules about shirts on and buttoned and no making out in the bedroom and every touch was a sacred shock to the system, and they would kiss each other into fervors of passion that only more kissing could quench—only now Kurt was splayed on the bed, Blaine inside him and their dicks twitching against each other’s flesh, and it felt good, truly good, in Kurt's body and in his soul, and Blaine experimented with different ways of stroking and different speeds and “would you like another finger, Kurt? Do you think you can take three?” and everything went blurry but also exquisitely in focus: the thrum of Blaine’s body in time with his; the need inside Kurt, growing like life itself; the soft grunts and groans they each made, so that Kurt sometimes didn't know if he was moaning his own pleasure or in response to Blaine’s—not that it mattered, it all felt the same—and Kurt found himself thrusting back on Blaine's fingers as much as Blaine was thrusting into him, found himself delirious with the pleasure of it, found himself calling out yes yes yes yes yes yes oh Blaine yes and when Blaine asked, “Do you want to come?” Kurt couldn’t answer because he wanted to but also he didn’t want this feeling to stop and so he spread his thighs out as far as he could and took Blaine’s fingers just a fraction deeper and that—oh, that, oh, Blaine, you’re inside me Blaine, fuck me, Blaine, you’re—

“Oh, Kurt, you’re so hot, you’re so beautiful, I want you so much Kurt, oh Kurt, oh Kurt, I can’t help it, I think I’m gonna come—"

And Kurt held Blaine’s face as he came, watched his mouth drop open and his eyes go wide but never losing their focus on Kurt, making Kurt feel like he was some sort of miracle, and maybe he was, because they were, they were a miracle when they moved together like this and when they loved each other, and Blaine’s semen fell warm upon Kurt’s belly and yes, yes Blaine, I want to come, I want to come for you.

It was like an earthquake and a blessing and a thousand metaphors that Kurt would never have the language for, because Kurt never had the language to describe the level of ecstasy that Blaine kept bringing him to, for the depth of love that existed between them.

“That was okay?” Blaine said a few minutes later, when they’d caught their breath and the faculty for forming complete sentences had returned to them.

Kurt burst into laughter. “Yeah, Blaine, it was okay.”

“You want to try it again sometime?”

“If you're amenable.”

Blaine smiled and kissed Kurt's cheek. “You want me to deflower you?”

“You mean, more than you already have?”

Blaine nodded knowingly.

“I was thinking …” Again, Kurt felt the familiar heat return to his face. “Maybe on our wedding night? Or on our honeymoon?”

“Hmmmm,” Blaine said with a teasing look. “That's not too heteronormative?”

Kurt bit his lower lip as he shook his head. “Nope. It’s a wedding gift.”

“For you or me?”

Kurt rolled onto Blaine and kissed his chin, his cheek, his forehead. “That’s the beauty of it. We’ll find out together.”

[running-in-the-dark]

oh my god. I'm watching The Librarians season 4 episode 6. and I. don't. like it.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

Anyway prohibitedwish dark medieval mystery drama au. The story is interjected every so often by prismo and scarab arguing over what should happen next

[scorndotexe]

genuinely sorry about all the dndposting recently it hasn't even been interesting but i'm so desperate to dm. i've got storytelling skills!!! i've got improv skills!!! i want to build a story around characters!!! i want to see what players do with what i give them!!!

[sheliesshattered]

10 minutes left before I turn a year older and what did I do?

I ordered myself a lightsaber. ah yiss

[linagram]

[ 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 #𝟶𝟹 ]

I'M FINALLY DONE WITH THIS FILE AND EVERYONE'S BEHIND THE SIN VDS.. if anyone's wondering how everything's going (horribly), i have everyone's voice and album trailer lines, mv previews (as in. the song lyrics) and most mv concepts (akio, aimi, naomi, asahi, yurika and riku. staring at 030506 and reina and thinking what to do with them) and akio and aimi's t3 designs ready (+ both pre-t3 vds) now i have to work on. uh. EVERYTHING else. again, i don't have a schedule in mind bc my life doesn't allow me to have one, but i'm planning to get it done until april or may. maybe june. we'll see.

now that we're done with the files, i'll post everyone's vds that are supposed to reveal what happened a few days before their crimes! and after that. uh. yeah, waiting for t3.

as i've said before, this file is a little more tricky to understand and there's a hidden message too, so put your thinking caps on <3 it's a bit short though but it's okay.

(the door opens)

???: Uh.. I've brought some donuts.

Goddess: Really? Yay! Put them here.

Goddess: I'm taking the strawberry ones.

???: You can have all of them. I don't really care.

Goddess: Thank you~ That's why I love you so much!

Goddess: You should learn to be more.. assertive though, you know?

Goddess: Like, stand up for yourself! Be more greedy!

Goddess: Or else..

Goddess: You'll never be a good [REDACTED].

???: ...

Goddess: How else do you plan to deal with [REDACTED]? They're not gonna listen to someone like you.

???: Why do you think making me a [REDACTED] is a good idea anyway?

???: Do you just want to get rid of me?

Goddess: No, not at all. It's just.. I can see that this job doesn't bring you that much joy either.

???: .. I love this job because I get to see you every day.

???: And if I become [REDACTED].. I won't be able to see you anymore.

Goddess: Well.. Maybe you don't have to remember me.

???: .. You're so cruel.

Goddess: I know. That's something you have to be if you want to keep the position that I have.

???: Do you even like this job?

Goddess: I think so. I get to see a cute bunny every day.

Goddess: And we even have more of them hidden somewhere!

Goddess: How can I not like this job?

Goddess: And also..

Goddess: It's not like I have a choice. I was born to become a goddess of this place.

???: Don't you have any other interests? Or passions?

Goddess: I do, obviously. But..

Goddess: I don't think I'll ever be able to escape.

???: ...

???: Could it be..

???: That you have decided to make me [REDACTED] to give me the freedom that you can never have?

Goddess: .. Dummy.

Goddess: Of course that's why I've made that decision.

???: .. I promise I'll do my job well.

Goddess: I know you will.

Goddess: Kidnapping all these guys was a surprisingly easy task for you, I'm sure being [REDACTED] won't be hard.

Goddess: And also, you're definitely going to be better than.. well, them.

???: .. So, we're going to have a third trial soon, right?

???: We'll have to say goodbye to all of them too..

???: Do you think all of them are going to get out of here alive?

Goddess: We'll see. Jackalope is supposed to tell them about the verdict system soon.

Goddess: But who knows, maybe dying in an outside world would be better for them than dying here.

???: We still have to make sure [REDACTED] lives though.

Goddess: Haha.. Don't you think that's unfair to the other prisoners?

Goddess: And I don't remember the last time this prison has been fair.

Goddess: If [REDACTED] dies, that's on [REDACTED].

???: .. I wonder what the future prisoners will be like.

Goddess: Haha, yeah, I'm curious about that too.

Goddess: Again, we'll have to wait and see-

Goddess: Wait, did you just steal my donut?!

[archorcist]

thinking about adam's heaven takeover verse ...

[carcarrot]

crazy year

[silksworn]

❛ show me how much you missed me. ❜

❛ —— ☾ ₊ ⊹ 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 / @fatewoven

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐓 is fetching against Enver's dark skin. Cold steel warms itself upon his breastbone, moved only by the gentle rise and fall of breath. An idle threat with no real intent, not yet. The dead do not speak to her the way that he does, do not worship her with palm and flesh and fervor. Their cold veins no longer remember how to properly bleed. Only a quick flick of the wrist to artery and he would spill out for her a font of red as vibrant as a bouquet of spider-lilies and poppies. You have missed me too, for you have brought me flowers, she would say.

Enver makes a show of ignoring the weapon, though he cannot hide flittering pulse in his neck. Moth-wing heart, animal dread. She wants to sup of his fear like sweet-wine.

Ah, but she rushes ahead of herself. That would only spoil the meal.

Her lover's saturnine face is upturned towards her. Candlelight paints Enver's features in broad strokes. She is left with the impression of his leer, the high cheekbone and the architecture of a nose broken more than once. His deep-set eyes are lined with sleepless nights and smeared kohl, both hungry and arresting. He is some crepuscular creature that has crept into her bed, a version of himself that belongs solely to the few stolen hours they find for one another.

Only here does he kneel for her. She still tastes the power of his willingness all the same. His attention is almost as satisfactory as physical touch would be.

"You presume much," she breathes, face kept as placid as she can make it. "Who says that I have not had my share of pleasures in your absence?" Yet she cannot contain the undercurrent of longing, voice little more than a suggestion of speech. The insides of Iraestra's thighs are wet with her desire for him, telltale tremble as she spreads her knees further to show him the lilac bloom of her cunt. Her hand works practiced, languid circle over her sex. She dips two fingers inside of herself just to hear the slick, filthy sound of it. The loudest noise in the room is her fluting breaths.

A crude mockery of how she takes herself, Iraestra exerts enough pressure so that the blade may open delicate skin. Blood wells quickly to the cut, a small river of pain traveling the broad muscle of chest. She gasps at the sight as if she had been the one pierced, body tightening around the trivial intrusion of her slender digits. It is not enough. She would have him bleeding and on top of her.

"Come to me," demand or plea, she does not know any longer. She does not care. "Let us see who missed the other more."

[perelka-l]

Maaan dont tell me I'll have to do some proper nasty art to make it very much clear to people how much of a stain on the fabric of the reality I am. Because apparently it's not entirely clear. Sigh.

[sibyl-of-space]

working around the holidays in retail: hell on earth

working around the holidays in social services: NUTS working around the holidays in admin/facilities at an office job: literally free money let's go

[dbphantom]

maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...

[ghcstcd]