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#in a way that says 'i know you have problems with me and that you're an annoying perfectionist freak but im willing to ignore that'
inkskinned · 18 hours
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this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.
good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.
sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.
so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.
one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.
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woso-dreamzzz · 19 hours
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Read II
England Lionesses x Child!Reader
Mary Earps x Child!Reader
Summary: There's a reason you don't have sugar
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You hold reading lessons every day at camp because you want the rest of the England team to not be knuckleheads anymore and to prove Mikey from school wrong.
It's not easy to learn how to read so you know you need to come back to make sure everyone has been keeping up with their learning because that's what Mummy and Daddy do to you.
They started teaching you how to read very early so you were fairly advanced when you went to school.
You think Mikey's just jealous because you're a good reader and he's a bad one but, still, you want to make sure to prove him wrong.
Mary always says the best revenge is proving haters wrong. You don't know if Mikey's a hater but you'll assume he is because better safe than sorry.
You've done a good job at teaching everyone though because Maya, Millie T and Tooney all give you some sherbet sweets. They make your mouth go a little tingly when you try them but you like that feeling so the three of them keep feeding you more.
They're responsible for you while Mary's getting the last bit of treatment before you all get on the coach to go to the stadium. Usually, someone else is responsible for you but you did a quick reading lesson for Maya and Millie with Tooney as your assistant so they're supervising you before the journey.
You decide that you really like the sherbet straws they give you and Maya dares you to see how many you can finish before you have to go.
You don't count but it's definitely a lot.
Enough for you to feel super hyped when you're finally reunited with Mary. She's picked out a set of four seats with a table and she's already got your rucksack full of books open for you to pick from.
You're very advanced in your reading for such a young kid but even you struggle a little bit. Now that you've taught Mary to read, she can read very well from the books that are a bit too complicated for you right now so she's in charge of reading them to you as you drive to the pitch.
"Er..." You say as you look at the selection," That one."
"Alright," Mary says, cracking open the book and clearing her throat. She gets about halfway through before she notices how wiggly you're being. "Hey, rugrat, do you need the toilet?"
You frown. "No. Keep reading, Mary."
"Are you sure? I can take you."
"No, Mary. My book, please."
"Alright." Mary keeps reading but she's acutely aware of the way you keep wiggling in your seat.
You seem to think you're fine though. Or, at least, you don't think you need the toilet which is Mary's main worry.
"Okay," She says finally," Go and find someone to hang out with. I need to talk to Tooney."
You seem all too happy to scamper off, practically throwing yourself at Beth across the aisle.
"Tooney!" Mary snaps, interrupting the conversation she and Alessia are having.
"Jesus, Mary! You scared me there!"
"What did you give my sister?" Mary demands," She's never been like this before."
"Like what?"
"Like that!"
Mary points over to where you've decided it's a funny idea to crowd surf over the girls at the front, who are bouncing you a bit as they pass you off to the girls sitting behind them.
"She doesn't do that! She's also not wiggly on the bus! What did you give her?"
Tooney winces. "I gave her nothing!"
Mary narrows her eyes. "What did you let Millie and Maya give her?"
Tooney's eyes dart to them quickly before she clears her throat. "I've got the right to remain silent! Anything I say or do can be used against me in a court of-"
Mary's already moved off before Tooney can finish and she crosses the coach to confront the other two. "I'm not interested in excuses. Tell me what you've given my sister."
Her gaze is clearly intimidating because Maya and Millie fold instantly and Mary's on her way back to her seat, easily plucking you from someone's arms to set you back down next to her.
It seems most of the sugar rush has disappeared now but then another problem makes itself known.
The bus goes over a series of bumps and you make a little aborted movement forward.
Mary recognises the action and whips out a plastic bag. "Here, rugrat," She says," Let it out. Let it all out."
She rubs your back as you throw up. It takes a lot longer than usual to hurl up your guts and Mary narrows her eyes over the top of her seat to look at Millie and Maya.
This is all their fault, Mary knows it.
It's because of all of the sugar you've consumed that you've thrown up so bad and, as she ties the bag shut, Mary briefly contemplates throwing it at Millie and Maya.
"Juice, please," You say and Mary hands it to you," Sorry, Mary."
"It's okay," She says," It's not your fault. Do you want to continue your book?"
You nod, leaning against your sister, energy drained. "Yes, please."
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retroellie · 2 days
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Little black dress
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Summary: After wearing a little black dress that gave nothing to the imagination, Daryl decides to drag you to the bathroom and remind you who you belong too.
A/N: It's been awhile y'all! Omfg, I have been so busy writing a book that started out as a passion project but now I'm like really into it lol. But this is filth, and honestly took me 6 days to write no mf joke. It didn't really read through it so it might be messy lol, anyways miss y'all!! enjoyyy <3 (also it is so fucking long, omfg...I'm used to writing long chapters in my book HKAHKSHFJA)
Warnings: Sexual harassment, public sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, BDSM, mentions of SA (kinda?), just men being gross tbh, dirty talk
Word count: 13.7K
It had been years since you actually had to worry about what you were wearing, even longer since you had to dress presentable. But here you were, caressing every inch of your body trying to decide if your short black dress was "presentable" or plain slutty. You were teetering towards plain slutty, the way it hugged your curves slightly... showed a bit too much of your scared-up legs, you're breast perking to attention as if they were made just for it.
You examined your body, wondering what everyone would say if you showed up to something so classy wearing this. The dress code was nothing special, "Halloween costumes and formal!" the flyer said. You had nothing that would be considered either of those, maybe you're old bloodied shirts from before the commonwealth... you could dress like a walker. However, you had to look approachable... as if you were a reporter of some sorts.
You sigh softly, brushing your hair from your face as you exited the bathroom. You don't even know why you cared so much, it's not like you actually wanted to go to this stupid ball. You were only going because you were helping Connie out with her story. You promised her that you would talk to some people there, and write down their opinions of the commonwealth. You told her you would look presentable and approachable, something you didn't look very often.
"Plain slutty" wasn't a bad thing, before the fall you would dress that way on a night out anyway... But you weren't who you were back then. You didn't want all the male or female attention, especially in a new town like this. They would whisper, they would gossip... no matter how pretty you looked in your cheap dress, you knew they would be merciless.
You walked to yours and Daryl's shared room, grabbing your bag you've had since the fall... it didn't match the outfit at all but you needed something to remind you who you actually were. You placed the bag on your shoulder, turning around only for your attention to be drawn to something shiny on your bed. Your husband's knife...
"At least Daryl will be there." You thought to yourself, biting your lip softly as you stared down at the knife. This new life has been a fairytale almost, almost like the entire apocalypse thing never actually happened... like you and Daryl were just a normal married couple with normal problems. It was so weird worrying about small things again, like what you were going to wear for this stupid masquerade ball.
You two had been "married" since you became a part of the commonwealth. It was strange, especially since everyone called you "Mrs. Dixon". You had been with Daryl for around 7 years, but you weren't married. However, when coming to the commonwealth there was an option for you two to be married "legally". You couldn't help but laugh when they brought it up, there was no government, and there was no "marriage" anymore. They were dead serious though, looking as if you were crazy when you laughed in their face. But you signed the papers basically stating yours and Daryl's "marriage"... so now you guys just are.
Daryl was a security guard at the ball, leaving much earlier than you to go do his job, so he had yet to see the way the dress showed off what was his. Suddenly your mind went another way, remembering the last time you wore a low-cut shirt or too short shorts... It was a decision that had you wobbling for 3 days, kiss bitten down to your calves and completely fucked. You blushed at the thought of it, hoping you could get through the night without Daryl scolding you for the too-short dress. Maybe you wanted that... maybe you wanted to tease him.
Daryl was completely comfortable in the relationship, he had no real problem with you showing your body off sometimes. But if anyone knew how a man could think, it would be Daryl. He knew the disgusting thoughts that would go through a man's mind when they saw a woman's upper leg... He knew just how they could spin that to make it sexually gratifying. It made him sick to his stomach knowing what men think when they see you... he fucks his anger out, hard and fast just like how those men think they can do to you... only he's the one doing it.
You shook the thought away from your head, making your way down the hallway of your dingy apartment. You realized how sad and depressing your apartment was, you made a mental note to get some art or posters to hang up... you needed to make this apartment into a home, or at least something ya'll feel safe coming home to. You passed by Judith and Rj's room, peeking in to make sure everything was in check... "in check" meant there was no one or thing hidden within it. The fall had done that to you, made you cautious, and made you the type of person to make sure each room was clear before leaving. Even though you personally went through every inch of the house trying to find RJ's hat just this morning... you just had to make sure there were no changes.
You finally were able to leave the apartment after making sure the door was locked 4 times. It was a short walk to the ball, about a 7-minute walk, but with heels on it was 15 minutes. You were never much of a heel walker before the fall, you envied women who could... but you never got that walk down. You would have killed to look so classy in heels, but you never got that kind of feminine gene. So you took it slow, walking with caution as you brought down your foot for each step. You looked stupid, maybe even drunk to some of the passersby.
You finally made it though, only 10 minutes late... but you found Connie and Kelly waiting for you at the entrance. You gave them a small smile, wobbling over to them. You were super close with Kelly and Connie, ever since they stepped foot in Alexandria... you guys were insufferable. So it didn't come as a surprise for Connie to come to you first when she needed help gathering "stories", which really meant gathering dirt about Pamela. You were more than happy to do it, it was something to get you out of the house and even landed you getting an invite to the most talked-about party of the year.
As you wobbled to the 2 women, it seemed as if you took them off guard for a second, completely unrecognizable as they didn't know who you were. It wasn't until you got closer that they saw who you were.
"Y/n?" Kelly asked, almost in disbelief that you could get all dolled up like that. "Jesus I could hardly recognize you with all that... boob."
You looked down at your figure, seeing just how different it was from your usual attire. It was strange being this... naked. You started to feel a bit uncomfortable, almost nauseous as you looked down at your heels. You weren't used to attention, you were but you weren't. You are not the ugliest person out there and you know that, people seemed to think quite the opposite which you didn't really agree with. You would catch people looking at your ass while walking past them or catching a feel of your breast while hiding from hoards.
You were no stranger to that attention, hell that's even how you and Daryl became what you were. Daryl couldn't keep his eyes off your hips and your lumps... that's the only attention you wanted though. The rest of them, it didn't matter to you. You could live without it, you were over wanting that attention just to validate yourself... that was in the past for you.
"what? Is it too much?" You asked, pulling your dress up just for it to almost flash your ass to the world, causing you to pull it back down just for your boobs to pop out again. There was no winning in the dress.
You searched both of the women's faces, hoping they would say all they needed to say. Kelly's eyes were focused on your face, probably noticing the cat-eye look you were trying to do... which used to be your specialty, but now you're out of practice. She was probably not used to seeing your lips so red as well, which that part is what you were most proud of simply because you made the mix yourself. You wondered what she was thinking, maybe you should run home and put on some normal clothes. Maybe this was a bad idea and you should have just stayed home. Connie brought a hand to your arm, bringing you back to reality.
"No! You look beautiful." She signed, making you feel a bit better. "Thank you for helping Y/n."
All of your worries slowly melted away just by this gesture, making you relax a bit. As said before, Connie was one of your best friends, you even learned sign language from her. Ever since you met her, she was always so gentle with you. No one really understood your insecurities or your panic attacks or the reason why you were so damn quiet all the time... but Connie did. She read you like a book, you hated it... but it was nice to know that someone could. Especially someone like Connie who would speak up for you if you needed her to. She knew you could never stand up for yourself.
You just gave her a small smile, nodding your head basically telling her that you were okay and you could do this. It was just for a night and you've taken out hordes, you've bashed a man's head in with his own leg bone before... you can take a night in a skimpy dress, you can take the attention it will give you. Plus Daryl was there, he would kill a man for touching you if he needed to and he has before. So you felt more than comfortable walking into that door and forcing stories out of men to get dirt on their leader.
"Yeah, well I'm your girl when you need to get information out of a man." You said, trying to lighten up the mood even if you were the one who needed some lightening up. "All you need is a small waist and huge knockers, Take notes ladies."
Connie and Kelly both let out laughs, boosting your confidence a bit. You smiled softly at their laughs, looking at the doors and seeing how crowded they were getting. Women in big dresses and men with fancy little tuxedos made their way into the double doors, Some were even wearing their own handmade Halloween costumes. They all were trying to get into the door, only to be met with the security who had to pat them down for weapons and whatnot. You once again felt a wave of relief, knowing you weren't the only ridiculous-looking one there. You suddenly were so thankful for it being Halloween. You sighed softly, putting your smile back on as you looked back at Kelly and Connie.
"We should probably get in before the line gets too long." You spoke, signing as you did so.
You all made your way to the double doors, Connie's hand on your arm as a way to make sure that you knew she was there with you. You appreciated it, this was a big crowd of actual people and you weren't used to that... especially with live people. You knew this night was going to suck, you were probably going to be a nervous wreck by the end of it. But at least there will be alcohol.
“But seriously, Y/N…” Kelly’s voice cut through your distraction, drawing you away from the parade of ridiculous-looking rich people. Her eyes were fixed on you, a playful suspicion lacing her tone. “You don’t strike me as the type to pull off this kind of glam… were you some kind of model or something?"
You just let out a soft laugh, walking up the stairs to the soft light illuminating the doors. You couldn't help but let your mind linger on your past. It wasn't something you were proud of that's for sure, you were a mess. You were freshly out of high school, going to college away from home so it was pretty much guaranteed that you would be doing something you would grow to regret. You would do it all... men, women, drugs, alcohol, partying until the crack ass of dawn.
It was a time in your life that was so confusing and being around people who were half your age, you weren't sure what was right and what was wrong. That phase lasted until you found Daryl, suddenly something inside you switched. He was nothing but soft and gentle with you, at least as soft and gentle as he could be. You meant something to him and that's when you realized that you weren't some drunk college girl that men and women could tear down for their own pleasure. You were someone, and that was enough.
There had been countless nights where Daryl had to carve that fact onto your skin, kiss your soft lips until you could say nothing but who you were, fuck it into you. You had lots to work on, Daryl did too... that's what made you two such a power couple. You worked on your shit together, made sure the other knew where they stood in life... who they were and who they weren't even though multiple untrue things have been drilled into your heads. You let the thought wander through your head before coming back to the moment.
"I am full of surprises." You joke back. You knew you could tell her what you really were back then, you're confused and you're hurt... but you left it at that.
-
-
The night went too slow for your liking, not even halfway through the night you were at your limit with men and you were ready to go home. As you sat at the bar, sipping on some fruity drink one of many men had bought for you, you pulled out your notepad from your dirty bag. It was almost empty, only 3 stories collected simply because the men were too focused on the way your dress laid against your breast. You swore you talked to almost 20 men tonight and only 3 of them actually had the decency to keep their eyes to themselves and answer your questions.
Most of the men didn't want to hear you talk, they just wanted to undress you with their eyes. You gagged at the thought every single time, even more disgusted by how some of them thought it was their right to put their hands on you. You could still feel a hand on the small of your back or placed softly on your hip. This dress started to feel like not a good idea and you should have caved into your desire to change into something different. You will say, that at least a lot of the men bought you drinks... you could have only gotten through this night with "Sex on the Beach" and "Strawberry Daiquiri". You would much rather have whiskey if you were being honest, you had been hanging out with Daryl too much.
You started to read through the notes you wrote down, jotting down some keywords in their stories so Connie could rearrange them for her story against Pamela. You were almost halfway through the second story and your 3rd Strawberry Daiquiri when you felt a hand on the small of your back once more.
"My, my... ya here all by yourself sweetheart?" You heard a deep voice say, you could almost feel their breath on your neck.
You jumped at the sudden touching, yelping as you turned around in the spinny bar chair. You were ready to swing on the perpetrator, you were too frustrated and grossed out to have another man try to get into your pants tonight. You lifted your hand up, ready to slap the shit out of the man... only for your hand to fall back down as soon as it went up.
It was Daryl. His shit-eating grin spread on his face as he chuckled softly at your sudden burst of violence. Little does he know, he's not the only guy tonight to say those same words and touch the same spot just above your ass. You would probably tell him later, but for now, you kept it to yourself... you knew he'd be furious, probably dragging you to the bathroom and fucking you till you couldn't walk properly anymore. The more you think about it, the more you want that to happen.
You sighed softly, closing your eyes softly and leaning against the bar. You were so glad to see him though, you hadn't seen him all night. You tried looking but you were far too busy trying not to get groped by old men or beat up by their wives. You knew this night would have been 100% better if you found Daryl earlier, he would have really made the night somewhat fun or maybe at least been your bodyguard.
"Not alone... My deadbeat husband is somewhere around here." You joke, turning back around to face your notes.
You could hear Daryl chuckle behind you, he set himself between you and the empty chair next to him. He looked down at your notes and your 3 empty cups, he knew these were not your first and definitely not your last drinks of the night... then his eyes trailed down to your dress. You had told him you would be here and what you were doing here, but he didn't know just how you were going to show up. The dress was going to get you in trouble, especially with the way that it caused Daryl's pants to tighten.
His eyes drifted down your body, the sight of your almost bare breast made him almost choke on his own tongue. Daryl watched as you brought the last bit of drink from one of your cups, watching you slurp it down. He let out a soft cough, clearing his throat as if it would clear the thoughts of what those lips could do.
"Deadbeat, huh?" he started, watching you bring the cup back down to the bar counter. You licked your lips, getting every ounce of the alcohol from it. "Well then, your deadbeat husband should be ashamed of letting you go out in something like that."
He brought his hand up to touch the fabric of it softly, placing his hand on your hip and giving it a soft squeeze. You tried to stay up straight, even if the alcohol was creating a glorious feeling between your legs that made you feel like you could melt into his touch. Even the smallest of gestures from Daryl could have you at his feet, just the tiniest softest touch could create a fire deep within you. You were feeling bold tonight though, maybe it was just the 7 drinks you had but something within you burned with the need to be devoured.
You bit your lip softly, feeling the loose skin that resided there. You looked up to him, eyes full of lust. Daryl couldn't help but feel the same kind of fire erupts in the pits of his stomach. Your glazed-over eyes, the smell of the pure alcohol that he knew was affecting your ability to think, the way the black dress was still on you even though he wanted it off. You leaned in close to him, his hand still wrapped around your hip softly.
"if only he was here to put me in my place." You spoke, words flowing off your tongue like honey.
Daryl let out a soft breath, his clothes suddenly feeling so constricting against his skin. He never knew all he needed to do was get a couple of fruity drinks in your system for you to be so... feral. It made all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock, making the head of it rub up against his jeans so uncomfortably. You were everything but a perfect angel... you knew how to talk dirty, you knew how to get Daryl's cock up and ready to pound into the first hole he could get to. But something about the way your tits looked in your dress and every single man wanting to tear you apart with their bare teeth... and yet you only wanted Daryl to fuck you in the ways only these men can dream.
Daryl looked around, being sure of his surroundings before making any stupid decision he knew he would make with you. No one was paying any attention to him... some of the men you talked to earlier were still trying to catch a peak, hoping that maybe your thighs would spread wide enough so they could see just in between them. So they could store it in their minds and use it for spank material when they need a little push. That made Daryl's breath get heavy, hands shaking slightly on your hip as you leaned closer into him... he could smell a hint of your perfume and it was giving him a slight high.
Daryl looked back down at you, seeing your soft stare... watching your eyes move down his body and then back up to his eyes. Daryl placed a hand on your cheek, rubbing it softly as he debated on dragging you somewhere more private. His lips ached, his cock already leaking with need... if anything could make daryl dixon be reckless, it was you. He almost gave into you, almost engulfed your lips with his, and made you whimper... made you his in front of everyone. However, something caught his eye... his abandoned post.
He was supposed to be guarding the door, making sure no one else came in, and making sure everyone was on their best behavior. Rosita was there, on one side of the door as she too watched the dance floor. He had a job to do, a very important one that would have you both moving up in life if he did it right. He shouldn't even have left in the first place, but something about the way your thighs looked from afar... he found himself stalking towards you just to get a better look at them. He let out a soft smile, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before he retracted away from you.
"Ya look beautiful sweetheart..." He said simply, giving your body one last glance before stepping away from you completely. He could feel your energy fall slightly as you groaned at the loss of warmth... your dress did nothing to cover you up, so his warmth was appreciated. "I gotta go do my job, I just wanted to see you before I got too busy."
You wanted to pout, you wanted to kick your feet and scream like a child... that's how drunk you were, you would beg for him if he wanted you to. You didn't find that fair that Daryl could get you going, put his hands on you, and warm you up just to pull away like it was nothing. You were too drunk, too cock starved, too horny to let him leave you like this. Your legs were wobbling already, you're cunt throbbed and every time you would move your legs it would create irritating friction that you wish were from his fingers. You sighed softly, not done with this just yet...
"Well that's too bad..." You said, hopping down from the bar stool. Your dress came up a little too high, showing just below your ass. You pulled it down, which once again caused your breasts to pop out... but this time you wanted them too. You watched as his eyes focused on them. "I'm wearing my best panties... I was really hoping someone could help me put them to use."
You sighed dramatically, grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. Daryl gulped back a comeback because there was nothing good that was going to come out of his mouth. He was torn between two nasty names.... some of the most degrading names he could think of. All he wanted to do was slam you against the bar counter, tell you how fucking slutty and how much of a fucking whore you were... 2 things he knew you loved, he knew it made you weak in your knees just thinking about it. But he had to keep it cool, y'all were in public and he would like to keep those names between the two of you.
You stepped up to him, looking down at his obvious erection... you smirked to yourself knowing just by your words you did that. You looked back up to his eyes, reaching up to adjust the buttons on his shirt and patting his shirt down. You could tell just by his eyes what he was planning on doing to you, you could tell you were in trouble. You leaned up to his ear, standing on your tiptoes just to make sure he was the only one to hear.
"I will be in the men's bathroom if you need me..." You whispered, pecking his cheek with your lips just as he did to you. You swear you could see his eyes twitch, his anger rising within him as you teased him softly. You gave him a soft smile. "I hope to see you soon, Mr. Dixon."
You said, teasing him even further and not giving him any time to even react to your words before you walked away. You could feel some eyes on you as you walked away, except they weren't Daryls... they were the countless men that weren't Daryl, their eyes boring into your skin but you paid no attention... they weren't your target audience right now.
You were able to slip into the men's bathroom without anyone noticing, which was tricky since every man and women's eyes were on you the entirety of the night. You knew you would get some attention but the amount you got was overwhelming... you forget sometimes that a lot of these people have been in the commonwealth since the fall, most never experiencing the horrors just outside of their walls. So when a woman who is covered in scars speaks so confidently to them, it is intriguing. Not to mention the way your body curves, how it dips and stands out so perfectly. Not a lot of women in the commonwealth have that kind of "fighting for your life" kind of body type.
You open the door to the men's bathroom, slipping in before anyone notices you even did. You choose the men's bathroom simply because you knew it would be easier for Daryl to slip into and away from his post for a bit, allowing him some time to fuck the shit out of you. Luckily the bathroom was empty but you didn't spend too much time making sure since you knew someone could walk in at any minute, so you entered one of the stalls and locked it.
The bathroom was one of those nice ones you see in fancy restaurants, the stalls were almost like little rooms that only held a toilet and a trash can. The walls surrounding the toilet were painted a cream color and went all the way to the ceiling down to the floor. These were the types of bathrooms that were perfect for fucking if you're being honest, I mean the privacy... it was almost as if they were made for horny couples who need to let some steam off.
You sat on the toilet, imagining all the possibilities and positions you could find yourself in the small confinement of the 3 walls and door. Your eyes locked themselves on the door which was the only "stall-like" thing in the small area. There was a large gap between the door and the floor, making it so you were able to see the shoes of people who walked by. Luckily you could see none, but the anticipation of seeing those black boots with the mix-match shoe laces... Jesus, you hoped he would come, you didn't even give him time to answer.
In this moment, the anticipation and the hope you don't get caught brought you back to when you and Daryl started seeing each other. while on runs or even around the small time you and the group were on the road... Daryl would get sexually frustrated from watching you, his cock rock hard and eventually he couldn't take it anymore. He would grab your shoulder, bringing his mouth as close to your ear as he could... growling into it that he needed you, ordering you to go to a secluded area and "wait like a good girl" for him. You were so needy for him that you did exactly that, sometimes waiting an hour before he showed up and fucked you into the dirty ground.
That was around the time when your relationship was kept hidden, Daryl's choice. He told you it was because of the 15-year age gap between the two of you, he was worried about the things that would be said about the two of you. It was strange for a 37-year-old man to be romantically involved with a 22-year-old. But deep down you didn't believe his words, you subconsciously knew it was because he didn't want to get close to you. He had this thing with trust, so it came natural for him not to want to trust you at first... he was okay with just fucking you and leaving you limp on the forest floor. However, somehow along the way... he fell so deeply and utterly in love with you, that now he feels ashamed if he has to hide you.
Suddenly, you were pulled from your thoughts when the bathroom door opened. A slight tingle made its way through your body and it wasn't the good kind. You placed your feet on the toilet along with your body, hoping the person didn't see your high heels, and called security to come to escort the woman in the men's bathroom out of the ball... that would be embarrassing. You heard the person's heavy footsteps, not able to see their shoes because of the walls of the small bathroom covering your view. You held your breath, trying to keep yourself quiet as the person made their way to the stalls.
You listened closely to the steps, hearing them walk closer and closer to your stall. Questions filled your mind, did someone see me come in here? Is it one of the men who now thinks this is his chance? Am I completely fucked and was this a bad idea? Fortunately, it didn't take too long for your questions to be answered because when the two heavy-duty work boots with the mix-match shoe laces appeared between the gap of the floor... your body relaxed slightly.
You chuckled softly at your worry, realizing how fucked the fall actually left you. You were expecting Daryl yet your mind went to the worst that could happen... Jesus, hopefully, the commonwealth will ease your paranoia.
Knock
knock
knock
Those three knocks were too familiar to you. It was the knock you and Daryl used when hunting or when you holed up in a random cabin for the night... it was just a way for you two to say "Hey it's me. You're safe.". You smiled softly, standing from the toilet and wasting no time in opening the stall door. The stall door opened to reveal your angry-looking husband, he did not look too happy about the fact he had to fuck some sense into you while he had to do actually important things, like make a living for you two. You couldn't help but laugh softly at his face, how angry he looked... you were feeling the buzz of the alcohol throughout your body and it was hitting hard. You leaned yourself against the door frame, making sure your hips stood out as you did so.
"Mr. Dixon!" You exclaimed, almost as if you weren't waiting like a little dog would for its owner... You placed a hand on your hip, head laying against the door frame. "I didn't expect to see..."
You couldn't even get your words out before Daryl pushed you into the stall, shutting and locking the door behind him. He pushed you against the stall door, attacking your neck roughly. The warmth spread across your body, your body going limp for only a second before you threw your head back onto the stall door you were pushed against.
"Shut up..." He whispered into your neck, biting and sucking at your soft spots. He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you in place as he worked his mouth on your neck.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, trying your best to stay up straight as he basically touched you in all the ways you craved. It was fast, very fast as he basically speed ran trying to make you as wet as he possibly could get you. You knew this was going to happen, you basically begged for it to happen... but that doesn't make you any less surprised by his sudden touch. He licked a strip up your neck, biting your ear lobe softly before going back to leaving down your neck... you knew this was his way of marking you up, making sure the mark would show so pretty on your neck in your black dress, scaring away the men's attention.
His kisses led down to your chest, leaving bite marks here and there as he did so. You could come undone from his abuse on your neck, your body arching into him as you tried so desperately to quiet your soft moans. Daryl pushed you further into the stall door before pulling your dress down, exposing your breast to him as he softly kissed down your body. He stopped his kisses, taking a moment to take in your squirming figure and how red you had gotten from just kissing. He leaned down, taking your breast in both of his hands, and squeezed them together before sucking on your already hardened nipples. It all happened so fast, making you not only drunk but also now high off sudden pleasure. Your hands went to his hair, pulling it softly as his soft sucking on your breast sent small zaps of pleasure straight to your clit.
He went back and forth between the right and the left, squeezing one while he sucked and licked the other. Your world was spinning, not sure if it was the 7 strawberry daiquiri or if it was the way his mouth felt on your tits. You could feel yourself getting so close to the edge, embarrassingly close... he barely even touched you and you were almost coming undone in your panties. You gave his hair a particular rough pull, trying to remove his mouth from your nipple... you were too close to the edge, not wanting to cum now... You didn't want to give Daryl an even bigger head than he already has when it came to making you feel good.
"Jesus... Daryl, I'm too drunk for the foreplay, just fuck me." You whispered out, your words shakey as you shivered from the cold air brushing against your now slobbered-up tits.
Daryl detached himself from you, your hands still in his hair as he did so. He tried to hide the smile from you but trust and believe the way you were begging made his own high come to him. He couldn't tell which one of you was drunk, and he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol this entire night. You leaned against the stall door, the lock from the door digging into your back. You squirm underneath his gaze, feeling his hands make their way back to your waist. Your tits are still standing to attention, red and puffy from his kisses.
You breathed heavily, looking into his lust-filled eyes as he brought his face closer to yours. You could feel his breath fan across your face, the smell of your shared toothpaste bringing memories of the nights you would have together in your small apartment... All the nights spent bent over the sink as he rammed his cock into you, praying Judith and rj were asleep, or even the days where you two just had to be with each other. So you filled the bath, lit some candles, and spent hours making out with each other... no fucking, no dry humping, no cumming onto each other. Just you two, taking in each other's presence and exchanging saliva.
"You beggin' me?" He whispered, lips hovering over yours as he spoke. You debated on reaching up, touching his lips with yours... speeding this entire thing up. But you couldn't deny you loved a long drawn-out fucking session in a fancy bathroom.
"No..." You teased, smiling up at him as you brought your face even closer. Your eyes make their rounds from his lip back to his eyes. "Simply asking for a favor."
You had a way of getting underneath Daryl's skin in the most delicious ways, with your innocent-looking eyes and your silky smooth voice. He knew better though, he knew you were far from innocent. Not only have you done things, murderous things that to this day you will never be able to repent from... but also sexual things that have the angels crying. You have allowed Daryl to fuck you on the dirty floor of an abandoned cabin while your people were only mere inches away from you. You have fucked him while covered in blood, even going as far as to cover yourself with more blood because it turned you on so much. You have asked to be held at gunpoint while you sucked his cock, asked to ride the handle of his knife, asked to be slapped in the face until your nose bleeds.
You liked pain, you loved every ounce of it and it was heartwarming that you trusted Daryl enough to be so open with these things... but it was disgusting how you did these disgusting things with such innocent eyes. However, Daryl was a sucker, because he did everything you asked him to with a smile on his face. He never knew he held such a disgusting pervert deep down inside of him until he came the hardest he ever had while fucking you by a trapped walker. Although, with age and the further you got into the relationship, you both settled down a bit. You two were so fucked for each other, you were basically cumming at the sounds or each other's names.
"Real cute... Just asking for a favor huh?" Daryl mocked, his hand running down to the top of your cunt... stopping so he could watch your squirm. He had other plans than to give you what you wanted, you guys were already fucking in a public restroom while hundreds of people were outside.. might as well go the full mile right? "Well then, you're gonna have to ask a lot better than that sweetheart. Knees."
He didn't have to say anything more than that before you were dropping to your knees. Daryl could cum from just knowing you would do anything for him in a heartbeat, especially sucking his cock when he wanted you to. You were never the type to turn down sucking his cock, you loved watching him come undone on your tongue... you even thought he looked so much more pretty at the angle.
You stared up at him with big eyes, your lips red from you biting them and your tits hanging from your dress. Daryl hummed in contentment, reaching down to wrap a hand through your hair as you looked up at him innocently. He ran a soft hand through at first, making sure you knew you were safe with him... making sure you were okay with what was happening. You nodded softly, a way for you to say "I am okay with this". He shot you a soft smile, running a hand once more through your hair to get it out of your face.
It started off so soft, it always started off so soft because you brought out this softness in Daryl... a softness he had never known he had until he met you. But it always ended up rough, because that is how Daryl loves and that is how you love it. Daryl suddenly gripped your hair, a tight grip that had you gasping and wincing. You groaned softly, chuckling softly at his sudden outburst... you knew you were about to get destroyed and in such a pretty dress.
"Want you to suck my cock..." he said, keeping hold of your hair but reaching down to the top of his pants. He unbuttoned them, almost ripping his belt off as he did so. "Gonna cum all over your pretty little face, then maybe I'll fuck that hole of yours."
You watched up at his hands as he unzipped them, pulling them down slightly so only his cock could come out. The sight of it almost had your mouth watering, not able to think coherent thoughts as you watched it twitch slightly. It was rock hard, the tip already covered in precum and flush red as it desperately craved friction. You knew your teasing left him desperate, and needy for your touch… but it’s as if you hadn’t touched him for days which was not true. You could not keep your hands to yourself around Daryl, so fucking was an everyday thing.
Daryl watched your eyes go wide at the sight of it, his grip on your hair tightened which pulled your attention away from his cock and back to his eyes. He couldn’t help but pump himself a few times, more precum dripping from the tip as he did so. You smirked at him which told him you weren’t done with your teasing.
“Is that any way to speak to your wife?” You asked, your words making his cock twitch even more. "Bet none of those men out there would ever talk to me like that..."
As said before, you had this way of getting under Daryl’s skin… and a little part of you enjoyed the way it affected him. It caused this fire within him that you were able to see from the outside, it was a small change in his demeanor, a small twitch of his eye that was probably only noticed by you. It was that small change that had you slightly terrified but completely and utterly exhilarated. That is the main purpose you teased him the way you do, just to see that small fire build up inside of him until he couldn't take it anymore and he just snapped. You were able to get him into so many dirty positions with that fire, so many nasty things just because of your teasing words.
Daryl's hands shook slightly, a slight hint of jealousy coursing through his blood. He gripped your hair harder, pulling some of it out, as he tried to stop his hand from shaking so much. He pulled you closer to his cock, causing a soft yelp to escape from you. His cock was now laying on your cheek, twitching softly.
"Well, those men don't know you like I do..." He said, pumping his cock one last time before setting his hand on the base of it. "They don't know my wife is a horny sex fiend who can't shut her fucking mouth... open."
You didn't have to be told twice, your mouth opening, and Daryl didn't give you any notice or any warning before he shoved his cock almost completely into your mouth. You held back a gag, feeling the head of his cock in the back of your throat already. Daryl kept your head in place, watching you fight with the urge to gag and recoil back from his cock. He can not deny how much pleasure it gave him to see you in pain, obviously the good kind of pain. The consensual pain that you allowed him to give you and enjoyed every single bit of it.
Daryl stayed still for mere seconds, allowing you to get used to the feeling of a cock in your mouth. You eventually allowed your throat to relax, looking up at him with your watery eyes as you went further down his cock. You wrapped your lips around him, staring him right in the eye as you took his entire cock in your mouth... until your nose was buried into his happy trail. Daryl almost collapsed, seeing the bulge in your throat... he could cum down your throat at this moment.
"good girl... good fucking girl." He said, trying his best to keep you like that for a couple more seconds so he could burn this image in his brain for later use.
He knew that you would be giving him that shit-eating grin that you usually give him when you get a big ego... but you couldn't since his cock was down your throat and you were loving every second of it. Once Daryl stored every single detail of how angelic you looked right now, he pulled your head back with your hair. As he pulled back your head, his slobbered-up cock was revealed... this would be another thing he would store in his mind for later.
Daryl didn't keep your head off his cock for long before he slammed your head back down on his cock, once again forcing his cock down your throat and causing you to want to gag again. You couldn't get used to it this time, you weren't able to stop yourself from gagging before Daryl pulled your head off his cock once more but like he did the last 2 times... he forced your head down on his cock once again. You couldn't help but feel your cunt flutter away as your throat was burning slightly. It was a delicious kind of burn, the taste of his cock making its way down your throat.
before you could even almost gag for a 3rd time, Daryl pulled your head away and then slammed it back down. Now his movements were quick, his cock massaging your throat as you just kept your mouth open and your lips wrapped around his cock. You dug your knees into the bathroom floor, your hand holding onto his thighs as you allowed him to use you like a literal sex toy. You felt so degraded, so disgusting... but you wanted more, you needed more. The feeling of someone walking in excited you even more, knowing that any of those men from earlier can walk in just to relieve themselves and be met with the sounds of gagging... gagging from the woman that they wished would do the same from them.
The thought of that alone, the look on their face as they realized what the gags actually were. The cold sweat that runs through their bodies, the red tint that spreads across their cheeks, the inevitable boner that pops up simply because they imagined how you looked while doing such a disgusting thing. You didn't mind someone walking in and that alone left a sense of shame within your stomach, you begged for it really. You knew it could lead to Daryl losing his job, knowing how they would look down on him because he left the partygoers he was supposed to be protecting so he could get a blowjob from his wife in the bathroom. But you would risk it all. The sudden burst of shame and excitement and complete lust caused you to bob your head along with Daryl's hands. Setting your hands on his ass so you could force him into your throat yourself.
"God... fuck, such a fucking whore huh?" Daryl moaned, keeping his hand entwined with your hair. He looked down at you, watching you work his cock in and out of your throat like it was nothing... your slobber dripping from every crevice of your mouth and onto your already spit-covered tits. "Ya like my cock in your mouth, the only thing you're good for huh?"
The degradation of it only made you speed up your movement, the sounds of your choking and gagging filling the air completely. You kept your eyes on Daryl, watching as he finally pulled his attention away from you and lost himself to the feeling. He threw his head back, eyes fluttering closed as he tried to steady his breathing. You looked up at him like he was some kind of god and in this moment... he was to you. You would have licked the floor he walked on if he asked you, in this moment and in any. Daryl was the closest thing to god you have ever believed in, because how can someone so fucking perfect be real? He must have been made from everything good in the world, like candy or fresh laundry.
You got too ahead of yourself, feeling Daryl pull your head back roughly as your rhythm becomes too sporadic, too messy. Daryl pulled your head completely off his cock, a string of salvia was now the only thing connecting you and him now. Your throat burned, it ached as you coughed softly... trying to catch your breath as you waited for what he was going to do next. When Daryl was in these moods when the fire sparked within him, he was unpredictable and that made your liquids leak from your cunt.
Daryl had a plan to destroy you completely and he was going to go through with it. You weren't going to be able to talk to another man without thinking of what Daryl would do if he saw you... you won't be able to speak for the next few days to come, or walk, or get out of bed. He was going to completely fuck you. Daryl took the base of his cock once again, placing his cock back on your cheek... watching it cover your face in your own saliva. You chuckled softly, closing your eyes as his cock drenched your face with spit. That soft chuckle made Daryl's blood heat up again, he didn't want you to laugh... he wanted you to beg for his mercy, cry so hard that you could barely speak, he wanted you to be a ruined puddle on the floor.
"Sit on your butt, head against the wall." He demanded, pulling your hair back and giving your face a harsh slap as a way to tell you that you would regret it if you didn't.
You did what you were told, sitting flat down on the floor and laying your head back on the stall wall. Daryl moved closer to the wall, so one of his hands was resting on the stall. There was only a small gap between the wall and Daryl, you between the both of them. Daryl's cock slid across your face once again, his hand pumping it softly as he made it so you were between his legs.
"Tap on my thigh if you need me to stop." He said softly, running a hand through your hair comfortingly. He was planning to destroy you, but if you genuinely needed him to stop he would in a heartbeat. "Okay?"
You nodded, repeating back a little "okay" before giving him a soft smile. You adjusted yourself so you were closer to his cock, sitting so you were face to-face with it. You were so ready... your mouth begged for it.
"Alright, sweetheart." He reached down, pulling your mouth closer to his cock as he bent his knees slightly. "All you gotta do is keep your pretty little mouth open for me alright?"
You nodded, opening your mouth once more. Daryl smiles, watching you so eagerly waiting for him. He let you catch your breath for a few more seconds, not wanting to completely overwhelm you all at once. But before you knew it, Daryl's cock was back in your mouth... his thrusts started slow. He allowed you to get adjusted to his cock once more, choking slightly as it hit the very back of your throat.
He didn’t wait too long though, after a few soft thrusts he didn’t go so nice on you. His thrusts became rough and fast, his cock slipping in and out of your throat, making your head almost bang into the stall every single time. As his cock assaulted your throat, hand wrapped in your hair as he used it as a way to keep your head back so he could fuck your throat until it ached, he imagined the way the men looked at you.
He saw you from afar all night long, watching you closely as you collected your stories. You pulled your dress down throughout the night, your tits looked heavenly under the softly yellow light. Then you would pull your dress up, revealing skin inches away from your lace black underwear. It was almost as if you were playing with him, making him a hot mess at his post. Then there were the men, all looking everywhere but your eyes... trailing down to the necklace he had found for you, but not staying there very long before looking directly at your tits. They had no shame, they slowly undressed you with their eyes and you knew it.
His thrust became even faster, your nails digging into his thighs and your eyes watered... Your choking and gagging only egged him on more as he violently banged your head into the wall. You loved every second of his abuse, throat throbbing and raw but so was your cunt. You were clenching around nothing, rubbing your thighs together to get some kind of friction. You would even go as far as to say... you were just as close as Daryl. You could cum from the sight of him alone, that's all you needed for your cunt to feel satisfied.
You could sense his orgasm nearing, his moans started to intertwine with your gagging and choking. He had to keep his hand on the wall to balance himself as his legs started to shake violently, thrust getting messy as you started to lick the vein of his cock so softly with what control you had, his hand gripping your hair roughly. If his cock wasn't in your mouth right now, fucking your throat till it bled... you would be begging him to cum down your throat, wanting to taste his salty seed as he came undone from fucking your face.
"So fucking close baby... so close." He groaned softly, trying to keep his voice below a whisper but the feeling of your velvet throat made him lose control of his own voice. "gonna fucking cum."
You hollow your cheeks, closing your lips around his cock and running your tongue down his shaft. You could feel his cock twitch on your tongue, basically begging to cum. Daryl continued his fast, rough thrust... the knot in his stomach was thrust away from bursting and you did everything in your power to send him over the edge, you craved to see the way his face contorted into pleasure as he came... how his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth opening into a slight O shape, his entire body shaking softly.
Suddenly, just before his breaking point, Daryl pulled his cock out of your mouth. You couldn't help but whine softly at this action, your throat needing to feel his warm cum slide down it. Daryl took his cock in his hand, pumping it at the same pace he was fucking your throat. It only took him a good 3 or 4 pumps before hot strings of cum shot out of his cock, landing directly on you. He milked his cock, watching as it spurted on your cheeks, your nose, almost into your eye but you closed them before it could.
"Fuck..." He let out, huffing as he leaned against the wall... his cock still in his hand as it twitched, almost overstimulated now.
You stayed underneath him, your cunt throbbing in your panties. You were sticky with Daryl's cum, with your own spit, and your sweat. You felt disgusting, you felt so disgusting that not even 10 showers could wash away this feeling... this degrading, embarrassed feeling. But somehow, your cunt still screamed for Daryl's abuse. You looked up at Daryl, his cum now dripping from your face as you did so. He looked so tired, so out of it as his orgasm still sent soft shocks down to his cock. You've noticed as he's gotten older that he has had to take more time to recover from his orgasms, it really takes it out of him.
You remembered when you first started fucking him, Daryl wore you out before he could even think about stopping. After every single nut, he would be hard all over again. It was heaven, but also physically draining. Now in your older age, you would much rather 2 or 3 long drawn-out rounds more than multiple quick fucks. Your and Daryl sexual relationship has come a long way, from quick fucks to long passionate, and kind of perverted sex. It was kind of sweet to you in a way, how you both experimented with each other and picked and chose what you liked and what you didn't. It was something no one in the past would have done for you, it was why you "married" Daryl in the first place.
"So beautiful..." Daryl said, pulling you out of your thoughts. He was caressing your face, wiping away his own cum while he did so.
You blushed softly, leaning into his hand... kissing the palm of it softly. Daryl was always so nice afterward, so gentle and sweet. Nothing like he used to be, so distant and cold... not even helping to clean you up. However, as sweet as this moment was... in a weird and fucked up way, your cunt still throbbed. You still needed your cunt stuffed, still needed it fucked raw to match your sore throat. So you dug deep into your chest, trying to find your voice and force out of your beaten voice box.
"Are you up for round 2 or are you gonna need some time to recover?" You teased, your voice raspy and almost barely there as your throat was quite literally broken.
Daryl couldn't help but chuckle, placing his head on the hand that was keeping him upright. Daryl was never the type of person to leave you all high and dry, even if you truly deserved it. He would always give you what you wanted, only he would give it to you over and over and over again until you begged him to stop. He loved watching you cum as much as you loved to cum, so he couldn't deny you the very thing he held dear to him.
Daryl finally was able to get his legs to stop tingling as much, pushing himself off of the stall wall. He now stood inches away from you, just needing to see you in your entirety. You were drenched in his cum, legs sprawled out and shaking on the dirty bathroom floor, your tits hanging from your dress, your hair matted to your forehead and neck... you already looked so destroyed, but you wanted more? He could never understand the pleasure you got out of being destroyed, he loved it too... but being in such degrading positions? Maybe that's why he was the one giving it to you.
He reached his hand out for you to grab it. You did it in a heartbeat, struggling to stand up but balancing on his arm as you did so. He took you softly into his arms, holding you up with one arm as he wiped more of his cum off your face. He slowly brought his knee up to your cunt, you gasped softly as it made contact with your puffy clit. You wanted to move your cunt up and down it, feeling the delicious friction it would give off... but you knew how much of a dick Daryl could be and how easily he would tease you, denying you of his actual cock.
"Old man huh?" He chuckled, still holding you close to his chest. He could feel your heartbeat in not only your chest but also your cunt that was throbbing against his knee. "I'll show you an old man."
He suddenly turned you around, shoving you into the stall door so your face was flat on it and your ass was pushed out. You yelped as he did so, feeling his hands pull your panties down... he wasn't going to take it slow with you this time, he wasn't going to ease you onto him and let you adjust yourself. No, he was going to continue to teach his lesson... make sure it was carved into your brain that what's his, is his, and if you allow another man to look at you like a hungry bear would to his prey... you'll know what happens.
Daryl pumps himself in his fist a couple of times, getting his cock hard again before lining it up to your cunt. You grabbed onto anything that you could, preparing yourself for the devious stretch that you begged for the entire time he fucked your throat. Daryl collected the slick from your dripping cunt onto his cock, making it nice and wet... as if he needed to, your own spit was still covering it. He teased your hole, putting the tip of his cock inside before dragging it down once again. He was trying to tease you, make you feel an ounce of what he felt the entire night with you prancing around in the slutty dress that was now bunched up around your waist. You subconsciously bucked back on him, trying to fit his cock inside your needy cunt... but he held your hips in place, gripping them so painfully that you could feel it throughout your entire body.
He kept this motion up for only seconds before he got tired of it, he got tired of your whines and your pleas, deciding to give you what you craved. In one swift movement, he slammed his cock inside of your wet folds, bottoming out in one thrust as he did so. This action made you moan loudly, almost screaming when you felt the sudden stretch of your cunt around his cock. Daryl revealed this noise, like it was his favorite song... making you scream from pleasure, making you feel so good you didn't care that hundreds of people were just outside of this door... some of those people being the family you have gathered along the fall.
Daryl didn't waste a second, doing the same thing to your cunt that he did with your throat... he pulled his cock all the way out before slamming it back in. You could feel his cock in your stomach, moving around your organs as if it was meant to be in there. You don't think you will ever get used to the size of his cock, because each time you both fucked you would always have to get used to the shape of him all over again... and each time it took you off guard. His cock was merciless, nails digging into your hips, cock buried so perfectly into your cunt... it was pure light.
You were so lost in pleasure, your moans just dripping from your mouth and Daryl allowed it... he was far too lost in his own pleasure to mind. You hoped that the loud music playing just outside would cover the noise and since no one had come running in to make sure you weren't being murdered yet, you felt it was doing a good job of covering up the noise. Daryl kept up his harsh thrust, one hand coming up to your hair to pull your head back so he could attack your neck. His teeth sunk into your skin, causing your body to go almost limp... balancing on Daryl's cock was the only thing keeping you upright.
He watched your eyes roll back into your head, face flush red as he pushed himself further into you as if there was any room for him to do so. He reached his hand that was placed on your hip, sliding it down to between your thighs... rubbing your bundle of nerves slowly. He knew you were close, he knew you could have gotten off his cock down your throat alone.... so he knew you wouldn't be able to hold on very long from his cock being deep inside you. He touched, licked, fucked every single spot of your that he knew would send you off the edge, he was proving pretty successful with it too.
But suddenly, all his movements stopped and so did the entire world for a second. While you were lost in your pleasure, the bathroom door was slammed open and voices now replaced your moans... engulfing the bathroom with their noise. You were too lost in your own pleasure to notice, your moans still slipping through your mouth and your hips trying to once again buck back into his. Daryl however was now in his "security/guard" mode now, reaching up with his hand to slap it around your mouth... pulling you flush to his chest. You gasped into his hand at the sudden action, eyes widening as you felt his cock dig deeper into you. Even though that was not Daryl's intention, it still caused his cock to twitch inside of you.
"Shhh." He cooed, his mouth hovering over your ear.
But how could you be quiet when Daryl's cock was so deep inside of you, how could you be quiet with how close his body was to yours, how could you be quiet when you could smell his toothpaste and the college he wore. but you obeyed, knowing that if you did then maybe you would get a mind-blowing orgasm out of it. You could hear two sets of footsteps, they sounded heavy... almost like 2 men. IT would make sense, if you were in the men's bathroom... You couldn't hear what they were talking about, you could hear them but you couldn't understand them with Daryl's cock grazing your g-stop.
Daryl peaked through the small gap between the wall and the door, watching the men through it. You could tell by the way his eyes relaxed slightly that the men had no idea you two were in here, that they were lost in their own conversation to pay any attention to the stall you two had been hidden behind. Daryl took a step back, pulling you along with him... his movement caused his cock to almost slip out of you, but him pulling you close to his made it once again thrust inside of you. You squirmed against him, his free hand keeping you still.
"Did you see that girl...uhh she had that black dress on? She was going around interviewing people about how they like the commonwealth?" One of the men said, you could hear him unzip his pants as he did so... soon after the trickling of urine could be heard.
"Dixons girl? yeah, I saw her alright." The other man said, his voice almost laced with lust.
You froze at the mention of you, more specifically how you were labeled "Dixon's girl". You had a name and you even gave it to them, fucking assholes. If it were any other time, you would correct them with a fist through the teeth and a knee to the groin... but right now, you were too occupied getting stuffed by Daryl's cock. Your senses were completely filled with Daryl, your cunt full of him... it made it hard to think any coherent thought, especially with how his cock pulsed inside of you, rubbing you from the inside softly.
"Dixons girl huh?" The other man chuckled, finishing up his business as he did so. You could feel Daryl's ego grow a bit, especially with how his hips started to move softly into yours. He got such a big head when it came to you, knowing you were his. "So what's the deal with them? I mean, she's like 20 years younger than that old fuck. Does she have daddy issues or does she just like me older?"
You would have corrected them once again, telling them that you just liked Daryl. You didn't go after him because he was older or because you lacked a father... They would probably have done the same thing with what Daryl did with his cock, how it turned you into a madwoman every time he pulled it out. You huffed into Daryl's hand, which caused him to chuckle silently. This was entertaining, to say the least, this entire situation was.
"With the way she was dressed tonight, I think maybe she's just a whore." The man said, causing your blood to go cold. "Maybe Dixon was just lucky enough to be the first guy she fucked."
You loved being degraded, you loved being called a whore, you loved being told you are nothing but a hole for a man to cum in... but only when Daryl said it. It was like when it came out of another man's mouth, it sounded so wrong and so degrading but in a not good way. Daryl had a way with his words that made it sound like pure honey, like candy dripped from his lips and you couldn't wait to get a taste. Daryl felt this too as if your genuine degradation actually affected him... like he could feel it flowing through his veins too. Daryl thrust his cock into you, trying to make you forget what they were saying, making you present with him instead of them.
"She seems like the type. " The man replied, the sink running as he said. Daryl once again thrust his cock into you, the knot in your stomach coming back. "Those outsider girls, man, I hear they let you do some weird shit to them."
One more sharp thrust from Daryl, his hand pressing harder on your mouth so they wouldn't hear your moans. He let his free hand roam down to your clit once more, rubbing it in small tight circles. To him, Daryl thought that maybe if you were too focused on your nearing orgasm, you wouldn't let the words of disgusting men get to you... he was slightly right because after that last sentence, their words turned to just background noise. You could feel yourself giving in the pleasure, you threw your head back on his shoulder, your back arching as you pressed your ass more into him so the gaps between your bodies were nonexistent.
"Damn, I might have to pay a visit to Dixons girl huh?" The man chuckled, the sound of zipping pants and water filled the air. "You think she'd take us both at the same time?"
Daryl's thrust started out as a way to comfort you in a way, but now with the venomous words these men were letting out... he was doing it out of anger, and jealousy as they talked so grossly about his wife. His thrusts were deep, and rough as he imagined what he would do to these men when he got done with you. How he'd cut off every single finger of one man's hand as the other watched. How he'd slit the throat of the man who even asked that stupid question in the first place, basking in the way his blood sprayed on him.
You took your hand and reached back to set your hands on Daryl's hips as he dug his cock so violently into your cunt. You couldn't take it anymore, your juices had dripped down your legs, now soaking the floor as you let Daryl abuse your pussy. You gave his hip a soft squeeze, a way to tell him "Keep fucking me, I'm gonna cum." He didn't slow his movement, instead, he sped up. Hacking away at the knot that was about to explode inside of your stomach.
"If she's fucking that old redneck... shit, she should be glad we would even consider fucking her." The man spit out, heavy footsteps leading to the door as he spoke.
And that was it, those words caused Daryl to thrust so harshly into you that it broke the knot inside of you. You almost screamed into Daryl's hand, your body tensing completely, your toes curling, your vision going white as he didn't stop his abuse. He fucked and rubbed you through the earth-shattering, mind-blowing, entire life-changing orgasm. Your cunt spasmed around his cock, liquids puddling up on the floor as you came around his cock. His fingers that were playing with your clit while you came were now covered in your slick.
"I call fucking her tits first." The other man said, another pair of footsteps followed the first ones you heard... both of the men now leaving the bathroom. "You can have him..."
The door shut, silencing the men's words which were now just jumbled as you came on Daryl's cock. You heard the door click shut, suddenly being shoved against the door once again in just seconds. You were still having the aftershocks of your orgasm while Daryl thrust into you, shoving your head further into the stall door. You moaned loudly, you're an overstimulated pussy trying to reject his cock but also craving it, his hand no longer silencing your moans. He shoved his cock inside of you, over and over again until the door was shaking along with his thrust.
You could feel his anger, feel the way that he tensed... the way that those men's words got more to him than they did to you. You could tell with every thrust of his hips that he was furious. He thrust into you only a couple more times before he groaned loudly, almost growling as he felt his own orgasm consume his body.
"Gonna cum in your fucking pussy..." He spit out, his grip on your hip tightening now and you could cum again just by his anger. "Gonna fill you up so fucking good baby... so good baby."
His words filled your brain, your body still so exhausted from the orgasm. You let him use you though, let him use your body so he could fuck his anger out. It was only mere seconds before you could feel his thick, warm cum paint your walls. When he said he was going to fill you up, he fucking meant it. He gave your pussy a few more good thrusts before he drained himself completely, his body allowing his veins to fill with pleasure. There's something about anger that makes orgasms feel so much better, feel so much more intense... and Daryl was a very angry man.
Daryl's cock softened inside of you, throbbing against your walls. He kept himself in you though, allowing you both to recover from the pleasure that filled you both. Daryl leaned down, kissing your back softly as he came down from his high, rubbing your hips to ease the bruises he left on them. This night was not supposed to go like this, you two were not supposed to fuck in the bathroom of this new town you had just been welcomed into. This was behavior that you two would do in your earlier years when you were both reckless, both so horny your hands never left each other. It is comforting, how things never really change.
"You okay?" Daryl asked, brushing your hair from your face... your face still pressed against the door and still very much covered in his cum.
You nodded softly, not able to speak well because Daryl's cock really took a number on your throat. Daryl smiled softly, slipping his cock out of you... watching his cum leak out of you. It was rare for Daryl to cum in you, he was always so adamant about cumming anywhere but inside simply because....he didn't want to knock you up, kids weren't supposed to grow up in this world. But something about tonight, he wasn't worried about you getting pregnant. A part of him actually welcomed it.
Daryl stepped back from you, pulling his pants up and buttoning them back up. You straighten yourself up, legs shaking as you attempt to pull your dress down. You weren't sure if you should bring up what happened, about the men who said those things but the words left a tension between you two. The words did hurt, you did feel massively sexualized by those men and you didn't like the feeling of it. But you thought maybe you could ignore it, it will go away on its own. Daryl noticed your struggle to put your dress back on, feeling a slight twinge of sympathy.
"Let me help..." He said, reaching over to help fix your dress. Covering up your body, his hands grazing your soft skin as he did so. He too was having that debate in his head, if you two should talk about it. "You know, those men. They're dead, you know that?"
It was almost like he heard your thoughts, could read your mind, and laid out what you needed to hear. This entire night you had been sexualized, but you didn't mind it... it was just attention to you. But hearing it while Daryl was there, feeling the way it affected him as well. It made you feel so gross like maybe all you were was actually just a piece of meat to some men. You could never imagine a life without Daryl now, how respectful he was even with his degradation.
Daryl was 2 steps ahead though, he already planned on making their life a living hell. It was one thing to gawk at you in front of your face, imagining what you tasted like or how you would look butt naked on top of them... all the while you just wanted to collect stories. But it was another thing to write you up as some lust-filled woman who would give herself any man who would ask her nicely. You weren't what they made you out to be, but then again they made every woman who liked sex like they did out to be some kind of whore. You liked sex, you liked it rough... but so did they, so why were you any different?
"Don't get yourself in trouble because of that asshole diary." You said although you urged him not to... a part of you really wanted him to. Men like them deserved to be put in their place, they deserved to be made to feel just how they made women feel. Plus you wouldn't mind Daryl coming home all bloody...
"Who said I'll get caught..." He smiled, inching closer to you, and laid a soft kiss on your cheek, wrapping an arm around your waist while he did so. Daryl was good at his craft, he knew how to be careful."So, I want you to go home... Take a nice bath, make some tea or something.... maybe get some rest. And I'll be home before you know it."
He kissed your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. It did sound so nice to just give in to sleep, especially with being a nervous wreck all night and then being fucked so hard in a small bathroom. But the feeling of Daryl going to hunt down these men, staying up till the early ends of the night punishing them for what they said... something inside of you flips, causing a small knot in your stomach to form wants more. You reached up on your tiptoes, bringing Daryl into a passionate, long kiss. This hinted to Daryl what kind of mood his actions had put you in, he pulled away when he realized... he'd already been away from his post for long enough, he couldn't go another round with you.
He chuckled softly, stepping away from you... he slid his jacket off and placed it on your small body. You were completely engulfed by it, it covered your body more than the black dress did, and you couldn't help but feel so safe in it.
"I'll leave the bathroom first, you wait a couple of minutes and sneak out. There should be a backdoor in the kitchen you can slip out of, but then I want you to go straight home okay?" He said, pulling the jacket closer to your body before setting another kiss to your lips. "And clean your face off before leaving, it's already bad enough i fucked you in here... don't need them to see the evidence of it."
You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, zipping up the jacket as you did so. You did completely forget about the cum that still dripped from your face, you were covered in so many liquids that his cum was completely forgotten by you. You nodded your head, watching him unlock the stall door and slip out of it. You poked your head from it, making sure the coast was clear before you also slipped out of it. You looked in the mirror, jesus... you were a complete mess. You watched as he peeked out of the bathroom door, making sure he could slip out successfully.
"Round three when you get home..." You called out, making him whip his head around to look at you. He scoffed, shaking his head softly. 
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cntloup · 3 days
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Levi always keeps a protective eye on you, wary of your surroundings when you're out together.
but he always lets you take the initiative if you need him to handle the situation for you.
you’ve proved yourself time and time again to be competent in dealing with random creeps or nosy people.
and he adores the way you always curl up in his arms after you're done shouting in some poor guy's face.
and he holds you tightly when you feel so done with the whole situation and just wanna feel safe again in his arms.
yet he's always watchful and notices even the smallest changes in your mood.
if he takes a whiff of hostility from the person or notices you being uncomfortable, he steps in and takes the wheel in an instant.
with all that being said, he always lets you know that you're in control and after some time, he's learned your little tells when you want him to step in and take control.
like when you squeeze yourself closer to him and wrap your arms around his bicep when you feel unsafe or uncomfortable by the creepy gazes fixated on you.
and he cradles your head to his chest and places a kiss on the top of your head before walking up to the guy and asking "you have a problem?"
and they're almost always intimated by the dark look in Levi's eyes and walk away.
but there are times when he ends up with his knuckles split and bloody by the end of the night.
"don't worry, baby. I'm fine." he says to ease your mind when you run to his side and nearly break into sobs, lips quivering as you try to get some words out but to no avail, shaken up by the whole event.
"take a deep breath for me. it's ok, love. everything's fine." he coos while holding your face with both hands, trying to get you to calm down.
and you oblige, taking shaky breaths until your racing heart gets back to normal.
all the while the poor bastard who was beaten up to a pulp groans and whines in pain.
when you both calm down and finally notice the noises coming from beside you on the ground, Levi rushes to take you away from the scene.
"let's go, love." he says and wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you to the car.
"you alright?" he asks when you reach the car and opens the door for you.
"yeah, thanks. you didn't have to do that. I was worried about you." you respond with knitted eyebrows, still somewhat in a daze.
you reach out to wrap your arms around his torso and he holds you as you nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck.
"don't worry, baby. they've got nothing on me. I'll always be there to protect you." he murmurs in your ear and you let out a sigh.
"but you hurt your hands." you pout, glossy eyes looking into his.
"it's nothing, love. you're safe now. that's the important thing." he says, feeling utterly overwhelmed by how loving and caring you are towards him.
you take his hands in yours and place a soft kiss on the back of each one, being careful about his wounds.
he fights the urge to pull away because why would you do that? his hands are filthy.
but the pure love and care seeping through your lips to his skin stop him from doing so.
he kisses your slightly wavering lips and tastes your salty tears pouring down.
you cry because you have never felt this loved before, this safe in someone's arms.
"I love you." he whispers between sweet, sloppy kisses, "love you too, Levi."
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cvnntagious · 2 days
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Die For Me
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☆ Fuckboy!Matt Sturniolo blurb for anon
Not that you cared, but Matt had been M.I.A for over a week now. He hadn't been in class, hadn't texted you, and you hadn't seen him in his usual hangout spots around campus. Not that you'd bothered to check.
Well, okay, you shouldn't have checked — But you did. Not because you cared. I mean, he didn't care, so why would you? You'd been looking for him because, for some reason, your professor had decided to hand over his work to you. It didn't seem like he knew where Matt had gone either.
You didn't really understand what this had to do with you. The professor had just told you to give it to Matt whenever you got the chance. What, did he think you and Matt were something? Because you're not. That's not what Matt wanted, and neither did you.
But as your grades began to slip, it was clear Matt was on your mind. For no reason, really. Like, you didn't like him or anything. Seriously, you didn't like him. Usually, with the help of Matt, you would've been able to de-stress by now. Even touching yourself was no good. His help had been keeping you steady for the semester, and without it, you were nothing academically. At least that's what you told yourself.
Today 10:22 PM : ' Hey sorry. Been a minute. '
That's what you saw pop up on your phone as you tried to focus on studying for the upcoming quiz. You knew who it was before you even read the contact at the top of the notification — that unreadable way of texting, topped with an annoying amount of periods, just like always. He said it'd been a minute, but it had only seemed like seconds since you last talked at that moment. You were already annoyed.
Texting back seemed like no use, brushing it off with a sigh that exuded not only irritation, but a hint of relief as well. At least now you knew he hadn't gotten himself into some shit. Not that getting into shit was much like him, it was more his brother's thing. But still, he tended to stick his nose where it didn't belong when it came to any problems Chris got into.
Today 10:25 PM : ' Come slide. Dorm's P17. '
You tried to ignore it, but the numbers caught your attention. Could he really want you this bad? Usually he'd come to your dorm, or on some rare occasions you'd meet him at Chris' frat. Never once had he bothered to give you his dorm number. This felt new, possibly refreshing. He'd always told you where he stayed wasn't necessary information— basically the nice way of saying he didn't take you seriously, nor trust you enough.
Though tempting, your better judgement told you not to give in so easily. As you held down the power button and slid the icon to power off before flipping your phone face down, you felt a certain sense of empowerment, proud of yourself for deciding it wasn't worth it. So why did you find yourself waiting for him to answer the door, fidgeting nervously as you looked at the short brown carpet of the dormitory hallway?
"Didn't even get a warning," You heard his voice as the door opened in front of you, causing you to look up at him.
With an embarrassed chuckle, you lifted your hand to show him the black screen of your phone. "It died," You lied, eyelashes fluttering as your eyes met his blue ones.
You watched his small smile as his tongue ran over his white teeth to hide it, invisalign making them chunky and, in some strange way, admirable. Then, he stepped aside, giving you room to walk into his doorway. "S'late, I know, but I just- like I said, its been a while," Matt began explaining as you walked into his dorm, leaning on the doorframe as his head followed you.
You turned to look at him after having taken in his dorm, rather unimpressed by the lack of personality. "Yeah, about that, actually— Where y'been?" You asked curiously, as he shut and locked the door behind him.
Matt only shrugged, suppressing a smirk as he took a step forward to let his hands travel down your waist. "Lot'a stuff," He replied simply, head cocking slightly to one side. Of course he wasn't going to tell you - he never told you anything. "S'a lot to handle, y'know," He then added, eyes darkening as they held contact with yours.
Your brows furrowed at his words, a bit confused. If he didn't want to tell you why he was gone straight up, you'd prefer if he didn't start hinting at stuff. "What is?" You breathed out, hands moving to rest on his forearms as you unknowingly caught his bait.
"Not being able to see you every day; To touch you every day." He said that as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, his head dipping to place open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. "To call you mine," He then whispered. You knew it were dumb to think he meant that, but for some reason, those four words made you want to give yourself to him completely.
Matt smiled for the first time since you'd walked in when you pulled back to admire his face, letting out a small hum when you leaned back into him to press your lips against his. Just like that, he walked you backwards towards his bed, hands slipping under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your stomach. The coldness of his silver rings caused you to hiss into the kiss, too distracted by the sensation to notice him turning you so that he was now with his back to his bed.
As he sat down on his bed, he pulled you down to straddle him, hands holding your waist. You looked down at his glossy blue eyes as your hands reached up to knock his hat off of his head, fingers threading through his brunette curls. "What d'you want, Matt?" You finally asked, one hand coming down to allow your finger to caress the underside of his chin as he looked up at you.
His hands traveled up your figure, lifting your shirt as he did so. He allowed his hands to rest on your boobs, kneeding them as he chuckled ever so quietly. "To not have to do the work this time," He answered in a teasing tone, eyes flickering down to look at where his hands worked.
Though reluctant, you lifted yourself off of his lap to hoover over it. Using one hand to stabilize yourself on his shoulder, your free hand made its way down to his belt buckle as he watched your every move intently, "Don't look so happy," You mused when your eyes had glanced up to see the excitement in his.
"You know I love this shit," He quipped as you pulled his belt through the loops, lifting himself just enough for you to pull his pants down to his thighs. You only had so long to admire all you could see through his boxers before you felt Matt tugging on your pants, pleading without words for you to take them off.
Again, you lifted yourself off of him, this time allowing him to unbutton your pants and shimmy them down your legs until they were discarded somewhere beside his bed. As he fiddled with your pants, your hand began palming him through his boxers, length already riled up from not being touched much longer than he was used to. He groaned as his eyes remained locked on yours, a wet patch turning a spot of his boxers a darker shade of gray.
After a bit of teasing, you decided it was time to finally get your eyes on the prize—his prize. Pulling it out of his boxers, you ran your hand along his shaft to feel it rock hard already. "So big," You muttered, eyes glued to it.
Matt couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at your words, expression smug as it could be. "This's new news?" He asked playfully, a stark contrast to his usual cold behaviors. It was like he really came out of his shell when he was aroused, and you were ready to put him right back in it.
With a squeeze of his dick that caused him to grunt, you pulled your panties to the side and lined him up with your entrance. Matt looked enthralled as he watched you do your work like this were routine, hands leaving your hips to rest behind him, leaning back to tilt his head back when you sunk down onto him without warning.
His hair was messy, and he could feel he was ready to sweat with your gummy walls around him. Lips pursing together, he hummed as you began to slowly grind into him, letting you do the work, just like he said he wanted.
It wasn't long before you began bouncing on him, hands on his shoulders for stability as you let out choked moans, as if his cock were suffocating you. The quick pace had your thighs burning, struggling to keep up with it, and yet, Matt simply watched in enjoyment. It wasn't often he allowed himself to freely make noise, but you could tell he was really enjoying this, with the way he had let out more groans and pants than usual.
Seemingly out of nowhere, his hands dartted out to grip the flesh of your hips as you continued your motions. You could've swore you heard a whimper when his head dropped forward to lean on the front of your shoulder. "Fu–ck this," He drawled out to you, hips begining to meet yours as he chase his high.
This simple, not so innocent gesture only served to fuel you, completely forgetting about the burning sensation. Your bounces got bigger, lifting yourself all the way to his tip before dropping back onto him with shreik-like moans. Matt was loving this, pants and groans now following each motion on his painfully ready cock.
"K- keep goin' f'me, baby, m'gettin close," He rasped, forcing himself to lift his head from your shoulder so he could look in your eyes while he came.
You nodded, bouncing mixing with grinding as you tried to tell him you were close too. It was too late. You let out a loud moan as you snapped on top of him, Matt following suit at the feeling of your sticky liquid releasing all over his dick. Your movements slowed to ride out your guys' orgasms before eventually coming to a halt, both of you panting with each other.
"Le's, uh— We'll do that more often, yeah?"
"Come on over, baby, can you slide for me? Yeah / You know how I love it when you ride on me." -Chase Atlantic
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w/c : 1.8k a/n : if you've sent in any anons, i promise i'm getting to them. it's taking me a while cs i take forever to write and now i'm super busy so please bare w me, these anons have been building up for months now...
-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!
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I'm just curious since I absolutely adore all your trans Ed fics, what made you read Ed as being trans? Is it more of a personal headcanon since we tend to see ourselves in fictional characters, or did you notice some tiny detail on the show that made you think so?
Oh my friend, I'm so glad you ask.
The cool thing about reading Ed as trans, I think, is that you do not even have to squint to do it. Literally you need to change exactly nothing, and this read suddenly adds a lot of nuance and additional juicy layers to his story and his journey with masculinity.
Ed's whole deal with masculinity, precisely exactly all of it, makes him feel so much like a trans guy who never outgrew the "I need to be hypermasculine so I pass" phase, fitting that read so precisely that given there are trans writers on the OFMD team I would be absolutely SHOCKED if at least some of it wasn't intentional. Every single trans guy I know has been through a version of this, where you come out and you know you're a man but you need everyone else to know, too, and so you lean very hard into masculinity to make damn sure you pass. And not just pass, but pass perfectly. Ed is forcing himself into such a heavy ideal of masculinity that it feels artificial; he needs to make sure everyone sees him as this perfect ideal of a masculine man that he cannot possibly live up to because no one could.
Certainly, parts of Ed's hyper-masculine presentation seem to be things that genuinely make him happy and bring him joy. That's important. Ed's happy to be a man, the problem is that he's trying to force himself into such a narrow idea of masculinity that it's stifling him. It's preventing him from enjoying more ""feminine"" things that he genuinely loves, because he's terrified of being seen as less of a man for it, and people like Izzy reinforce the idea that if Ed fucks up in his performance of masculinity, he's going to be in danger because of that. It's very real, and the added juiciness from reading Ed as trans adds so much to the great story that's already there, I think. There's this additional element of Ed knowing he's a man but needing to make sure everyone else could never doubt it, there's an additional perceived danger to slipping up, there's a sort of jealous admiration for guys like Stede who seem, at least on the surface, so much more comfortable with a different type of masculinity that Ed wishes he could have more of.
And on top of that, there's just a lot of other little additional things, like:
Ed making his beard his whole brand, it just screams beard dysphoria and "no one could ever claim I'm not a man because the beard is my whole THING."
Something about his relationship with his name, and how hard he has to try to get people like Izzy to call him by his name in front of others
The way Ed is dehumanized when he dares to step outside a very safe, masculine gender presentation - it's why Izzy saying "this thing you've become" when Ed is wearing a robe and painted nails hits so hard for me, I think
Okay. okay. listen. You know the scene where Ed makes CJ whip him in the balls. Listen. Ed baby. It just SCREAMS "people here don't know I'm trans and I don't know how much getting hit in the balls should ACTUALLY hurt so I'm gonna lay it on really really thick just to be safe"
There's a lot to be said about Ed and his clothing in a lot of directions, but I'm gonna leave it at how he's really figured out a safe set of clothing that works for him and consistently allows him to be read as this super masculine guy, and he's scared to step away from that. Also, I really like imagining the full-fingered gloves at the end of s1 as a way to cover up the nail polish on his fingernails until it wears off.
I think it's very sweet that Ed tends to be very private when talking about his personal and sex life with others, but a very, very easy explanation for how that got started is he just doesn't want to go around sharing personal details about his body with people!
Yeah. A trans read of Ed is so shockingly easy, fits so well, and adds so much to his journey, frankly I'm amazed it's not more common.
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coca-lastic · 13 hours
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5 Green flags 🟩 VS 5 Red Flags 🟥
I'M BACK 👹
Well well, My last post about Keigo have lots of support from you all, and like I said, I'm willing to do a part 2 about Bakugo Katsuki sooo, here I am.
Tell me if you want a part 3 and which character you would like.
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Let's start with his red flags. Let's be clear that Katsuki does have a few, it's true that it's nice to imagine him as an attentive boyfriend who takes the initiative, and I firmly believe that he would be like that, but that shouldn't hide the little things he has that can get on your nerves at the time of a fight.
Now, let's start listing his bad things:
1. He acts like you're a burden: I don't think he would do this on purpose, but he would. Comments like "What the fuck do you want now?", "Stop bothering me", "You're too intense", "Will you shut up?" can come up at the beginning of the relationship. Even to the point that you feel bad about his independent actions, as if you were just another thing on his list. Of course, deep down he doesn't consider you a burden, but he expresses himself as if you were one.
2. He doesn't open up to you: Katsuki has this constant thought that he can't be inferior, that he has to be the best and his feelings can be a difficult thing, and I think that in a relationship he feels a lot more pressure about all this to be strong and show you how tough he is. So I think that for a long time he won't tell you if something is wrong with him even if it's clear that something is wrong with him. This could just be something normal, but I add it as a red flag since a large part of Katsuki's life is clouded by those insecurities, so he doesn't tell you how he feels every time he sees Deku, or how he was in training, or how he felt when he won something, because if he does, his facade will fall apart. This ends up being something that can affect the communication between you two.
3. He doesn't understand you: He tries, he really does, but he just has a hard time understanding when you feel bad. He's so used to minimizing what's happening to him that he doesn't understand why it affects you so much. So you might be crying in his arms, and he might be hugging you, but deep down he doesn't understand, and that's terrible in arguments, because he doesn't understand why you're angry or why you're sad or why you're disappointed, he tries to fix it but he doesn't understand the roots of the problem.
4. He's jealous: Like, not jealous to get insecure when he sees you with a friend, jealous to get furious when he sees you with another man. And that, OBVIOUSLY, brings problems. He trusts you, he doesn't trust them, he knows you're hot and he also knows that the other jerks know it. So don't doubt that he's going to complain to you repeatedly that a certain person shouldn't be so close to you, or that he doesn't get along very well with a certain friend.
5. His anger: In the anime we can already see that he is a little bit... impatient. He tries to control himself with you, he truly loves you and treats you with his best version, but there are times when you simply act in a bad way, I mean, you also have your red flags, and that makes him angry, and you too, then you fight. A lot. For a long time. A lot of yelling. And probably a lot of painful words that he doesn't really feel, but says them, because his fury is faster to speak than to think, analyze and meditate.
Now, like every person, he has his flaws and his virtues. He has things to improve and things that you should love, because they are incredible.
So let's see what those good sides are and let's see which side of his personality ends up winning, let's see the second side of his furious personality.
1. He doesn't talk, he acts: Maybe he doesn't open up to you as much as he should, but he decides to make you feel comfortable by letting you know that he loves you through more practical methods. Are you hungry? He cooks, are you sick? He takes care of you, do you want a snack? He buys it. Because actions are worth more than words, so he decides to act, he decides to give you what you want, and consider yourself lucky because you are the only one who sees his helpful side.
2. He puts you first: If his friends invited him out to eat something, he won't care if you sent him a text telling him to go with you to buy something. If his mother told him she was going to celebrate a birthday with the family, he'll run away because you asked him to bring you some chocolates. Because he knows that if you love someone, you're not going to replace them with the smallest things, so if he has to make a decision that involves you, you'll always be the right answer.
3. He is not ashamed to show you off, he loves to do it: You are also part of his achievements, and being the show-off that he is, he will show you off. God, he has a sexy, smart, strong, kind and hot girlfriend, he has to show you and show them that you two are together, that he is a lucky and happy man.
4. He knows you: I think this is important, but not all men do it, in fact those who do are very few. Because not all of them observe you, remember, learn and please you, but Katsuki does. He is observant and knows how to listen, maybe he doesn't understand perfectly why you feel so much, why you get excited and sad about small things, but he knows that you do it, he knows how you feel, he knows how you reacts, he knows what you like and how he knows you, he knows how to please you, he knows how to make you happy with a gift, he knows how to excite you, he knows how to make you laugh and he knows how to make you feel loved.
5. You're part of his future: If he sees himself as a great hero, he sees you by his side, making and fulfilling your dream. Holding your hand. Kissing you. Hugging you. Caressing you. That's what he sees. Maybe a two-story house, or a single story, whatever you want, maybe 2 children, or maybe none, just a pet, maybe a red car, or maybe a black car, but within all those variables there is one constant: you.
Sorry, this doesn't match your way of seeing Katsuki. Remember that he is still a character that each one sees and imagines in their own way, but I try to do it in a way that everyone feels comfortable.
Now, did the 🟩 flags or the 🟥 flags win?
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suplicyy · 2 days
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heyy hope you’re gonna take this request, can you write something about canon kuroo confessing?
No time skip please. Like with a female reader which doesn’t act in love with him like the rest of the girls, she’s not pick me or stuff like this.
So Kuroo can do nothing but finally talk to her because he can’t stand the fact that she’s different from other girls.
I can’t really picture canon Kuroo confessing, that’s why I’m asking, I really like your writing!
Thank u so much
Notice me Please!!!
Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
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— Summary: He has his eyes on you, but for some reason you don't look back.
— Tags/Genre: Fem!Reader | Fluff
— Warnings: None!
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Kuroo drums his fingers impatiently on his desk, and with one hand resting on his chin, he stares at your figure across the classroom. You seemed quite entertained listening to music, which he has no idea what it is, but that sight makes him feel something inside him.
Frustration. He admit that he can't stand seeing you like this, because you're never like that when he tries to talk to you, and that made him feel a kind of jealousy, even if it was for something inanimate.
Every time you talked to him, you seemed indifferent, almost as if you were uninterested. Damn, why don't you look at him with the same twinkle in your eye when you're listening to something on your stupid headphones?
It's been a while since Kuroo started to have strong feelings for you, your heart skips a beat every time you pass each other in the school hallways, with Kuroo always looking back when you pass by him. But he never revealed that to you of course.
And no matter how many bad jokes or flirtations he told you, how many little gifts he left in your locker or on your desk in secret and then hinted that he was the one who left them there, it seemed like you never cared about his desperate actions for your attention.
At first, he thought this was just the way you acted, that you were more shy and reserved. But then he noticed the giggles you had with your friends, how talkative you seemed to be around them.
Now he thinks the problem is with him, that maybe you hate his presence, or just don't care about him.
He is a relatively popular person at school. His volleyball team reached the Nationals, which gave great prominence to all the team members, especially him. So it's no surprise to hear girls gossiping about Kuroo in the hallways.
To tell the truth, he didn't care much about it, sometimes he would even tease Yaku for having more fans than him, but that was it.
The only person he craves attention from is you.
But he doesn't know if you feel the same way, or at least care about his existence.
So that's why today would be the day he would bring the whole truth to light. His only option now would be to confess to you. Maybe it was a last choice made out of desperation and doubt, but he can no longer bear your indifference towards him.
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Your club activities are over, so you can finally go home after a tiring day of boring classes and uninteresting people.
Now, you were walking towards the school exit, but you soon stopped when you saw a certain boy with a peculiar hairstyle standing at the gate, almost as if he was waiting for someone.
You figured he was waiting for Kenma to go home since they were best friends, so you didn't care much about it and continued walking to the exit.
"Hey, [Name]!"
A familiar voice calls you. And as you turn to the side, you see Kuroo walking towards you, waving at you.
"Let's go home together, shall we?" you look around, and then you look at him again, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you going with Kenma?" "He said he needed to go somewhere else to buy a new game, something like that. And since I'm alone... I thought about going with you."
He gives you a smile that would make anyone fall in love immediately, but it never seemed to have any effect on you.
You looked at him with an enigmatic expression, almost as if you want to read him through his actions and words. "Um, sure." You say as you adjust your backpack hanging on your shoulder, soon starting to walk, with Kuroo by your side.
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Your house wasn't that far from the school, but in the situation you were in, it felt like an eternity had passed since you left the school gates and started walking.
Neither of you exchanged a single word, except for Kuroo who was humming some random song.
"Y'know..." he says after a moment, which made you direct your gaze to him, who was still staring at the path ahead.
"I once heard you listening to this song. You turn your music up so loud that anyone who passes by can hear it coming from your headphones." your expression changes to one of surprise.
"S-Seriously? I never realized that..." you laugh awkwardly, looking away to the floor.
"Yeah... but it's not because of music or headphones that I called you to walk with me." Kuroo stops walking unexpectedly, making you stop too.
Looking back, you notice his expression is more serious, almost as if he is a little nervous.
"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you."
His tone of voice seemed to have changed too, which left you confused, or even a little nervous, as much as you didn't want to admit it.
"I...like you, [Name]." As he uttered these words, it was almost as if a weight had been lifted from the boy's shoulders, his previously tense posture allowing himself the luxury of relaxing, even if for a brief moment.
However, the opposite seemed to manifest in you. Previously unconcerned about what this simple walk would offer you, it was almost as if your breath was suddenly caught in your throat. Your heart soon feels like it's leaving your body, hammering in your chest in a fast, nervous rhythm.
"Huh?" you say in disbelief at what you heard. Shock quickly turns to annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. "Look... don't think this kind of joke is funny, because you won't hear me laugh about it."
"Joke? Why would you think that?" Kuroo says this right after with a nasal laugh.
He walks closer to you, and you instinctively step back, until your back is in contact with a large tree that was close to the sidewalk. He stops right in front of you, and looks at you with a touch of doubt, almost as if he had heard something incredible.
"Why do you think I would make fun of something like that? You- my feelings for you... would never be a joke to me." he says with an affectionate tone, his eyes softening for a moment as he maintains eye contact with you.
"Maybe this could have been just a challenge your friends arranged for you, like in those cliché movies." your tone conveys sarcasm, but with a touch of bitterness "Or maybe some pretty girl rejected you, and is now looking for solace in anyone even remotely close to you..." "Or even-"
Your words are cut off as you feel Kuroo's lips land tenderly on your cheek. His hand reaches out to cup the other side of your face, and the other lands on the tree behind you, pinning you there.
"I like you, [Name]." he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "And I will tell you this until you can't prove otherwise."
Kuroo takes his hand off the tree and takes your hand, then looks at you seriously. "And I mean it."
You feel your cheeks heat up, but you quickly compose yourself, and a small smile appears on your face, but this time it's genuine.
"Hmm, so you want to win me over, huh?" you push yourself away from the tree, placing your free hand on his shoulder. Your sudden closeness makes Kuroo surprised, making him suddenly feel shy.
"Only words won't convince me... you better work hard for it, Tetsurou." you move away from him, and start opening your backpack, looking for your headphones.
You give a small wave to Kuroo, but without turning towards him, focusing only on the path in front of you.
Dumbfounded, Kuroo waves back, his cheeks dyed with pink in embarrassment.
"Thank you for accompanying me, but I can go on my own from here." You say as you fit your headphones onto your head, putting on a random playlist that you made in honor of your little crush, who is definitely not Kuroo Tetsurou (it is).
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— A/N: Uh........hi........I'm back.............
First of all, I want to apologize a thousand times to whoever sent me this request, I'm really sorry it took me SO LONG to post this. In addition to apologizing to everyone who follows me here, for not having given any sign of life for more than a month....😭
I really don't have a real excuse for doing this other than a total of 0 creativity and several hours of my life in hell (school), so I really needed to take this time for myself, until I felt more comfortable coming back here again.
I'm currently feeling quite creative artistically, mainly because I'm watching MHA again (which I'll probably bring here on my page) and also because I'm reading the Haikyuu manga. Plus, I passed pretty much every subject at school, so I don't have to worry so much about grades.
So...I'm officially back now!! I apologize again, and in compensation for this, I am already writing 3 more new things for you (2 are from MHA😜😜🤪); and I also won't open requests until I finish writing these, so stay tuned!!
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biasbuck · 2 days
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BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays
Less that a week to go!! Happy fraturday, and a very happy birthday to Mr Guzman. Here's another round of the fic I've been reading this week, you can find previous rec lists here.
21 September 2024
ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies is a pitch perfect Eddie POV fic as he babysits Mara and Jee-Yun following 7x10, winning them over with icecream tuesdays, love and support. I saw so many people loving on this and then caught my eye even more with some gorgeous cover art by @walkingonawire and yes, everyone was right, it absolutely melted my heart. Just a beat for beat joy of a fic, Eddie's internal journey and the sweet bond of trust and love built between the trio, as he awaits Chris' return, and allows himself to open his heart up to Buck along the way. Beautifully written and delightful!
all you're giving me is friction by @henswilsons ahhhh such a wonderful 5+1 buddie fic in which Eddie joins the 118 and Hen is a little worried that Buck's flirting with him will cross a line...seeing as he's wearing a wedding ring. This is such a fun fic with the elephant in the room...because you know what she doesn't know you know, right? And waiting for the reveal and watching it dawn on them is so brilliantly funny in execution.
wherever you roam (you'll always want me) by @buddieism canon divergent following 7x05 in which Eddie would rather 'go to his grave repressed and miserable than ever take away from Buck’s happiness.' But in unpacking what would make Eddie himself happy, he comes to realise with some help and a look at what brought him to this point in his life that that might not be up to him. Aching and painfully cathartic and ultimately full of hope.
the cat's meow by @exhuastedpigeon GIVE. EDDIE. A CAT. (Do it for me!) When Eddie finds a box of abandoned kittens at the side of the road, he takes them to the shelter...but falls ass over teakettle for little calico Pinto (like the beans). Reluctant to let on to the existence of his new furry little friend, he keeps her close to his chest. When Buck finds out, he's unable to resist falling under the spell of her charms...or her owners. Sweet, romantic fluff...with such great character voice....and whiskers!! So freakin' cute.
glass on the pavement under my shoe by @doitbuckley a Buck POV fic under Gerrards command, taking a risk that puts his life on the line to save Eddie. But all these years later, he's not sure he's so readily okay with having to say goodbye for real, even in the line of duty. Some lyrically written introspection and growth from Buck here in the way he understands and embraces life vs death situations.
Hot Ghost Problems by @ebjameston in which Eddie is a natural born witch in a world where magic isn't a secret though he keeps it close to his chest. But on joining the 118 he meets Buck...only Evan Buckley is the firefighter who died that Eddie was here to replace. Tethered together by magic, Buck refuses to move on, and in staying around he saves Eddie along the way. With some excellent Diaz sister cameos, a brilliantly intriguing mystery, and a whole heap of magic, they race against time to save the day and might just get to keep their happily ever after. I had such a great time reading this one from 2023!
the tortured poets department by @colonoscopys more magic! 'The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up.' Magic sparks under his skin, and falling in love with Buck feels a lot like when it overwhelms him with feeling. Eddie thinks he's doing a good job keeping it secret, but somethings are obvious to those who know what signs to look out for. This one felt like a little bit of magic shared, sweet, sexy and full of all sorts of sparks!
Okay let's leave it there for this week. Next week we'll have a new episode to play with! Can you believe it? I'll be on a little work trip and then a vacation so looking forward to joining you all in the sandbox soon. So excited to be back with the firefam again.
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elumish · 15 hours
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I talk about what writers should do a lot, so now I'm going to take a break and talk about some reforms that I think agents should make.
A caveat: I am not an agent! Unlike when I talk about writing, I am just talking about this as an author who happens to be in the midst of querying. If I have an followers who are agents who think I'm getting something wrong, please let me know!
That said, here I go:
Trad publishing is, fundamentally, about getting past a whole bunch of layers of gatekeepers, and agents are the first gatekeepers. With some very limited exceptions, you can't be trad published without having an agent. From what I can tell, being an agent is a bit of a thankless job--it's based on commission, so an agent only gets money if they are selling their clients' books. (Remember: the money flows towards the writer. If someone claiming to be an agent is telling you that you need to pay them to represent you, run.)
Because of this structure, agents have a massive amount of power over unagented authors, particularly because unagented authors simply do not have another option if they want to trad publish. It is my opinion that that power dynamic is part of the reason why querying actually sucks so unbelievably much for authors.
Now, part of why querying sucks is that it's a numbers game, which means that most of us will lose. Every writer is competing against a gazillion other writers, some of whom are better or writing things that are seen as more sellable or happen to be eariler or whatever. You are going to get a bunch of rejections, and that's not the fault of agents.
But here's the other problem:
There are, from what I can tell, no true industry standards and somewhat limited professional expectations for agents when it comes to how to deal with querying. Again, this is what it looks like from the outside--agents, if I'm getting this wrong, please let me know.
For example, many agencies and many agents will have different rules about what you can submit to them and how, and in many cases those rules are in somewhat arbitrary places, which means that querying authors have to hunt for them, and it's easy to run afoul of them even when you're trying. It's common for some agencies to say that you can't query two agents from the same agency at the same time, but some say that you can't query two agents from them ever--a rejection from one is a rejection from all.
But most agents' Twitter bios/MSWL pages/personal pages/etc. don't say that--which means that authors need to hunt through every individual agency's webpage and then cross-reference against every agent that they have ever queried previously, which can be arduous when many people are querying dozens or hundreds of agents. It also means needing to keep track of things like when agents switch agencies.
There are also no standard expectations for agents to actually respond to queries in any sort of time span, or at all, which complicates the above issue even more. But it also is just (imho) kind of unprofessional to ghost people who are seeking a professional relationship with you, when you have explicitly asked them to reach out to you seeking that professional relationship.
And to make that worse, many agents don't say whether or not they respond to all queries, meaning that authors are often left wondering if a 6-month or longer wait is a "no" or an "I haven't gotten to this yet but will definitely respond to you."
There are more issues that I could cite, but my overall point in this is that authors have no recourse here. There's not authors' union, no way to go on strike until agents change what they're doing.
And some agents are really awesome about this! But enough are not, and authors don't really know what they're going to get when they query someone.
So all of this is to say that, if you are an agent, here are some fairly easy changes I would love for you to make to your own behavior to make querying a little bit less of a nightmarish hellscape for authors (and thank you so much if you already do some or all of these):
Respond to every query that you receive
Tell people your general response times and be communicative if that changes. It's okay if it regularly takes you six months! Just tell us it regularly takes you six months, so we're not left wondering if we've been ghosted at four months
Outline all submission guidelines on Query Manager or where you accept queries, including things like a) rules about whether a rejection from one is a rejection from all, b) length expectations for things like synopses (I've seen a range), and c) any other expectations you have (e.g., you require trigger warnings). Don't make people hunt through 2-4 websites to find what you want
Stop asking or at least strongly rethink how you ask about Own Voices or why an author feels like they are qualified to write about a marginalized identity--I understand the impulse, but nobody should be expected to disclose medical or other personal information like that in a professional setting
Also, just to say (other than please don't reject my query because of this post), agents: authors really do appreciate the work you all do. I want someone to work with to get published, because I am very well aware that I am not the expert in this situation.
And again, please tell me if I got anything wrong or misrepresented anything.
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mythicalninjas · 3 days
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Hi! Idk if you’re requests are still open but!
Could you do a Donnie getting mad/having a bad day and he kinda explodes (with no reason/gratuitamente) with reader (she)? And they stay away from the lair for a while, and happy ending! (Just want heart-crushing angst with happy ending hsuahs)
(Tbh the prompt I actually thought was “Donnie was stressed and tired of being different, reader who’s autistic says they relate, so he explodes saying they don’t, how could they?” But idk if you’re ok with writing that, so I simplified it! ~I’m autistic, that’s why I thought of that~)
If my ask is to complicated or didn’t inspire you that’s tots ok! I understand! (Sorry this ask was so big too!)
Have a good day/ night! ☺️
It's okay, your prompt is amazing ☺️ Sorry for keeping you waiting for too long... I had to deal with college in the past several months.
I hope I did write the way you asked. Enjoy 💜
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It was a quiet night in the lair, but that didn't reflect Donatello's internal state. The laboratory was plunged into darkness, save for the dim light of the monitors that cast dancing shadows on the walls. The frantic sound of the keyboard echoed, the only sound apart from the hum of the machines at work. Donnie was exhausted, physically and emotionally. His brain was burning with data overload, with formulas and calculations that didn't fit together as they should. It had been days of incessant research, of failed experiments, of trying to find solutions to problems that seemed to multiply.
Every mistake, every failure, was a nagging reminder that he needed to be better. He had to be better. There was no room for weakness. His brothers depended on him, the world depended on him. And the constant pressure to deliver results was starting to implode inside. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he kept pushing, ignoring the body that was crying out for rest, ignoring the accumulated stress.
She entered the laboratory, as she had done so many times before. Her steps were soft, as if she were trying not to interrupt, but her presence always brought a sense of comfort that Donnie appreciated, even if he never admitted it out loud. He was so focused that he barely noticed her coming until he felt the soft touch of her fingers on his shoulder.
"Hey, Donnie..." Her voice was soft, a gentle touch to his swirling mind. "Are you all right?"
Donatello barely lifted his eyes from the monitors, trying to recalculate a complicated sequence. "I'm busy now," he muttered, his fingers still running across the keyboard.
She waited for a moment, watching the tiredness on his face. She knew that he threw himself into his work when he was frustrated or anxious, and she had learned to give him space when necessary. But now, there was something different in the air. He seemed more tense than usual, more closed off.
She let out a little sigh, hesitating before speaking again. "I know you're busy, but... maybe it's time to take a break? You've been at it for hours..."
Her touch should have been a comfort, but at that moment, something in Donnie snapped. The pressure, the frustration, the accumulated tiredness - it all blended together in an explosion of emotions that he could no longer control.
“I said I'm busy!” His voice echoed louder than he had intended. He stood up abruptly from his chair, his eyes blazing with anger, anger that wasn't hers, but which ended up being directed at her. “Don't you understand? I can't stop! If I stop, I'll fail. If I fail, everything falls apart! And you here, distracting me with… with your unimportant things!
She took a step back, shocked. The impact of his words had hit her like a punch in the gut. Never, in all the time she had known him, had he spoken to her like that. Always so calm, so controlled… but now, he seemed on the verge of collapse. Her eyes filled with tears before she could control herself, but she refused to let them fall. She didn't want to show how much it had hurt her.
“I'm sorry for… bothering you.” Her voice was low, broken, almost inaudible.
She turned quickly and left the lab before he could say anything else, before the tears flowed. Donnie stood there, his heart racing, the echo of his words still hanging in the air. For a few seconds, he remained motionless, trying to process what had just happened. Then the guilt began to set in, slow and corrosive.
He had hurt someone who had never been anything but kind to him. He had hurt her.
She walked aimlessly through the streets of New York, the cold of the night beginning to bother her, but nothing compared to the tightness in her chest. The emotional pain was much stronger than any physical discomfort. She couldn't stop thinking about his words, the tone of his voice. It was as if the Donnie she knew, the one who always cared, who listened and understood, had disappeared, replaced by someone she barely recognized.
She walked for hours, wandering around the city, trying to find some clarity amidst the confusion of feelings. Part of her wanted to understand why he had exploded like that. He was overwhelmed, that was obvious. But did that justify what he'd said? The sharp words still echoed in her mind, and she wondered if he really thought that.
While she was lost in thought, Donnie was back in the lab, but his focus had completely disappeared. The screens flashed in front of him, but he could barely see what was written. Guilt was consuming him from the inside out. He knew he had made a mistake, that he had said horrible things. The frustration he felt wasn't her fault, and yet he had taken it out on the person who least deserved it.
Finally, he got up from his chair and left the lair. He needed to find her, he needed to correct the mistake he had made. He didn't know exactly what he would say, but he knew he had to apologize, he had to make amends.
After some time, he found her. She was sitting on top of a building, her gaze lost in the horizon. The evening breeze swayed her hair, and Donnie felt his heart squeeze at seeing her so far away, so hurt. He hesitated for a moment before approaching. Each step seemed heavy, weighed down by guilt and regret.
“Hey,” he called, his voice softer than before, almost fearful.
She didn't turn around immediately, but he knew she had heard. Donnie sat down next to her, keeping a respectful distance. The silence between them was thick, full of unspoken words, but he knew he needed to speak, needed to break through that wall he himself had erected.
“I'm sorry,” he began, his voice low, sincere. “I… I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. You didn't deserve that. None of it was your fault.”
She remained silent for a few moments, and he almost thought she wouldn't answer. But then she sighed, her eyes still fixed on the city.
“Why did you do it, Donnie?” her voice was broken, and he realized how much his words had really hurt her. “I just… I just wanted to help you. And you pushed me away.”
Donnie closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his own failings. “I know. I know you were only trying to help. And I… I was an idiot. I was frustrated, tired, and lost control. But that's no excuse for what I did.”
She finally turned her face to look at him. Her eyes were watery, but the anger had given way to a deep sadness. “You didn't have to hurt me like that, Donnie. I'm always here for you, you know that. And yet… you blew up at me, as if I was part of the problem.”
Her words dug deep into Donnie's heart. He had been the cause of her pain, and now he could clearly see the impact his actions had had. It wasn't just the momentary explosion, but what came after - the insecurity, the doubt. He needed to fix that.
Donnie swallowed, feeling small in the face of what he had caused. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice full of regret. “You're… the last person in the world I wanted to be cruel to. I was just so overwhelmed, with all the pressure of being the brains, of having to sort everything out for my brothers… And I ended up taking it out on you.”
She sighed, looking at the horizon again. “I understand that you have this responsibility, Donnie. I know how much you carry. But I was also there, trying to share that weight with you. And you pushed me away, as if I wasn't important.”
Her words pierced his heart harder than any physical attack could. She was right. He had spent so long concentrating on his own burden that he didn't realize how much she was trying to help, how much she wanted to be there for him.
“I was wrong,” he said, with more conviction this time. “I was wrong about everything. I know I can be controlling and stubborn, but I need you. I… want you by my side. You're important to me. More than I can express.”
She remained silent, absorbing his words. He moved a little closer, reaching out hesitantly and placing his hand gently on hers.
“I promise,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I promise I'll try to be better. I'll work on myself, on how I handle things, so that this doesn't happen again.”
She looked at him, her eyes finally meeting his, assessing the sincerity she saw there. And she realized that, although he had made a mistake, he was willing to do whatever it took to make it right. It was a long road, but she knew Donnie was committed to walking it.
“I want to believe that, Donnie,” she murmured, her voice still tinged with a slight pain. “I just… need some time.”
He nodded, understanding. “I understand. And I'll give you as much time as you need.”
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, side by side, watching the city lights. The noise of life below continued, indifferent to the emotions that filled the top of that building. But there, between them, time seemed to have slowed down, making room for reconciliation, for forgiveness.
She leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder, a small concession. He felt relief run down his spine, as if that simple gesture was proof that things would eventually be all right. He knew he was lucky - lucky that she was still there, by his side, even after everything.
Donnie wrapped his arm around her, gently pulling her closer, as if he were trying to protect her not only from the outside world, but also from himself. His heart was pounding, but this time, not out of guilt or anger, but out of gratitude. He knew he had a second chance, and he would do his best not to waste it.
They stayed there for a while longer, the silence now less heavy, more comforting. The cold night wind blew lightly, but Donnie felt the warmth of having her close again. She was still hurting, and he knew it would take time for everything to heal completely. But he was willing to wait, willing to do whatever it took to win back her trust.
Finally, she stood up slowly, and Donnie followed her. She gave him a small smile, still shy, but which warmed his heart. “Let's go home,” she said, and those words were all he needed to hear.
Together, they descended from the building and headed back to the lair. The walk back was silent, but the tension between them had eased. She didn't hold his hand, but she didn't push him away either. For Donnie, that was a start.
And he knew that, in time, they would find a way to heal - together.
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mllemaenad · 2 days
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It always strikes me as weird that there’s no point at which the Brotherhood and Minutemen automatically come into conflict that I can find. One would think that the Brotherhood’s methods of gathering supplies (basically racketeering) would automatically lead to issues with the Minutemen, whose job is to defend against such raiders. I know the game mechanics reason for this, but can you think of anything in-universe to explain it?
I think there are a few things going on here – some gameplay related, some thematically related. But to be honest I don't think it's always easy to separate those two things.
Point one - who's in charge?
If you follow Fallout 4's opening quests then you are the General of the Minutemen. That means that your Sole Survivor gets to make big important decisions like "do we go to war with this new group?" You do not lead the Brotherhood, Railroad or Institute (you may, of course, inherit control of the Institute at the end of the game, but that's after all these decisions take place) and consequently decisions about who your enemies are take place over your head. You can pick a side if two factions you belong to come into conflict ... but you can't ultimately change their politics.
There is no point in the story where you are forced to go to war with the Brotherhood as the General of the Minutemen ... but you absolutely can go to war with the Brotherhood as the General of the Minutemen.
So this is both a gameplay and narrative point: what does your Sole Survivor think of the Brotherhood of Steel? Maybe they are also a dedicated member of the Brotherhood, and have no problem with them "commandeering" supplies. Maybe you work with the Railroad, and their attitudes frighten you. Maybe you're a pure Minuteman character and just resent another group of raiders causing problems for your settlements.
Every other faction makes the decision of when to invoke "War never changes" for you. This one's on you.
Point two – who shot first?
Obviously, the Brotherhood of Steel does end up in forced conflict with the Railroad as part of the main quest. There's no way to make peace between them, no matter how many quests you've done for either faction.
But. Well. I mean – there's an obvious aggressor in this one. It's not like Desdemona wakes up one morning, finishes her Sugar Bombs and coffee and says "Hey, guys, given that we've just barely clawed our way back from extinction, doesn't picking a fight with a group of heavily armed thugs sound like a great idea?"
There are no Railroad quests that require you to directly attack the Brotherhood until after the Brotherhood tries to murder them. While Brotherhood and Railroad ideals are pretty clearly in conflict, the Railroad absolutely does not want to start another war. They're up to their eyeballs dealing with the Institute. The Brotherhood impose that conflict on them.
Why? Well, they tell you. The first reason is that the Brotherhood are intent on committing genocide, and they are aware that the Railroad's mission would require them to rescue and protect synths.
Even with their relatively small numbers, the Railroad is a constant threat to our operations. They've already proven to be resilient against superior forces, with a knack for disappearing when cornered. Worse still, they possess the capability to help synths flee the Institute. If we intend to end the synth menace, we need to plug the leaks. – Lancer Captain Kells Dialogue, Fallout 4
The other reason is because the Railroad has PAM, and the Brotherhood wants to steal her.
Our sources tell us that the Railroad has some sort of experimental or prototype robot in their headquarters. They're calling the "Predictive Analytic Machine," or "P.A.M." for short. Cute, huh? They use the robot for complex strategic calculations that are much more efficient than anything we can generate here. If you could use this holotape to decrypt the security on P.A.M.'s terminal, it will force the unit to return to the Prydwen. I'm certain we could put P.A.M.'s computing power to good use. Otherwise, destroy it. We wouldn't want it to fall into the Institute's hands. – Proctor Ingram Dialogue, Fallout 4
The conflict between the Brotherhood and Railroad occurs purely at the Brotherhood's instigation. While the Railroad doesn't like the Brotherhood they don't want to fight them unless they have to.
Which brings me back to the Minutemen. As an organisation, the Minutemen are pretty well indifferent to synths. Oh, they're one hundred percent opposed to the Institute sacking settlements with Gen 2s, or people being replaced by synths, or any other scenario where the people they've pledged to protect get hurt ... but there's no official policy on synths themselves.
Preston is broadly pro-freeing the synths because he's a good guy:
I never really thought about synths that way before, but it's hard to argue that they don't deserve freedom like everyone else. – Preston Garvey Dialogue, Fallout 4
But nothing about being involved with the Minutemen actually forces you to help a synth. So they are not on the Brotherhood's radar the way the Railroad are.
The Minutemen is also a pretty low tech organisation. Their signature weapon is the laser musket. Their big rebuilding quest, Old Guns, is about setting up some very old-school artillery. Nothing about that is going to make the Brotherhood start salivating and plotting to steal their stuff. Now, obviously that artillery can turn out to be very effective at dealing with the Prydwen if it comes to that, but that's a very Brotherhood mistake: they think shiny tech will protect them from superior numbers and rational tactics. They made the same error at HELIOS ONE.
So unlike the Railroad, the Minutemen are unlikely targets for Brotherhood aggression at this stage. They aren't forcing a conflict. But like the Railroad, the Minutemen start the game a hair's breadth from annihilation. Most of the game is spent rebuilding both their forces and their credibility. They clear raider strongholds and nests of feral ghouls. They're not much more likely to be actively pushing for an all-out-war than the Railroad.
Point Three - who the hell are these guys, anyway?
After all of that, I recognise there's still a problem, though. Because Feeding the Troops is still a pretty obnoxious quest and it does feel like a thing that would cause issues.
Fallout 4 does a lot with misinformation; appearance versus reality; what someone says and then what they do. I know I've brought it up before, but a big one is the difference between Diamond City and Goodneighbor. And one of the key points about that is that things change: Diamond City wasn't always run by the Institute; Goodneighbor wasn't always setting itself up as a haven for the lost. Things change. Bad things can improve, and good things can slip into evil.
Earlier games had a karma system associated with them: this is good, this is bad. Fallout 4 replaces this with companion opinions, which fits pretty well with its themes and ideas. It's not going to tell you which one is the good karma option. You've got to play the game and figure it out. And yes, sometimes the answer is "there's no good answer".
Two things about the Brotherhood: they arrive relatively late in the game, at the start of Act 2 ... and they were the good guys in Fallout 3. They were very explicitly the good karma option in Fallout 3. While, obviously, each game is going to pick up a bunch of new players who haven't played the older ones, it's also important to recognise that Fallout is a series, and the narrative continues from one game to the next.
By the time Fallout 4 starts all the various factions in the Commonwealth have been locked in conflict with the Institute for decades. Asking them to pivot and immediately start fighting these guys who turned up last Tuesday is a lot. While the Sole Survivor could never have heard of the Brotherhood of Steel, there's a really solid chance that you, the player, have heard of them. And you might make some assumptions, based on that.
They were the good guys, right? Okay, yes, kind of arseholes and a bit of a problem if you were from Underworld but ... they fought the Enclave! They defended Project Purity! They protected people from super mutants! It's a whole thing!
But. Well, there's clearly been a change in leadership since then. And they've specifically reintegrated the Outcasts, i.e. the anti-helping people Brotherhood faction.
Also, the Commonwealth is not the Capital Wasteland. The conflict there was Brotherhood-versus-Enclave and the Enclave was so very bad that virtually anyone could look heroic opposing them. The super mutants never coalesced into a coherent faction who wanted anything; they operated more like a plague. Simpler times. In the Commonwealth there are more factions, more differing ideals. The water needs purifying, sure, but if we could solve the political problems farming wouldn't be a major issue.
You see all this difficulty and ambivalence in the game's characters, too:
The Brotherhood. In Capital Wasteland, they really weren't bad. But now. – Deacon Dialogue, Fallout 4 Those Super Mutants are a threat to everyone in the whole Commonwealth. I'm glad to have the Brotherhood's help to take them out. – Preston Garvey Dialogue, Fallout 4 Long as the Brotherhood of Steel keeps the heavy artillery out of the city limits, they're welcome here. – Diamond City Security Dialogue, Fallout 4 Flying that ship into the heart of the Commonwealth. Mark my words, the Brotherhood's here to start a war. – Nick Valentine Dialogue, Fallout 4
Characters are aware that the Brotherhood did good in the past. They're concerned about the giant airship in their space. They're grateful when the Brotherhood does something that happens to be helpful, even if their reasons were selfish. The decision about what do about them is floating in the air, from the day they turn up.
So now I'm back to my first point. You're the General of the Minutemen. Odds are, defending the Commonwealth as a Minuteman was one of the very first pledges you made at the start of the game. And sure, you're visiting all the factions and doing their quests, because that's how these games work.
Cool. So – I mean, they've asked you to bully and steal from the farmers you swore to protect. If you take your non-human companions to the Prydwen they will say the most horrible things about them. They've sent you to murder your friend Danse, even though he hasn't done anything and it's not like he can choose to not be a synth. They're powering up this really scary robot they can use to terrorise people. They're sending you to slaughter the Railroad, unprovoked, because they want their robot. At what point have you had enough? At what point do you go "Ohhhhh. This is the bad karma faction"?
There's a warning, right at the beginning of their quest line, from Haylen:
Field Scribe Haylen, personal log entry 324A. I'm starting to wonder if joining the Brotherhood of Steel was a good choice. I originally signed up seeking protection and comradeship but I'm worried that I've traded away a bit of my humanity in the process. The Brotherhood's message of hope for the future is idealistic and noble but their methods leave a lot to be desired. The leadership seems especially misguided. Instead of diplomacy, they wield violent confrontation to exert control. Despite all that, I've been successfully avoiding the fighting by following the career path of a field scribe. I suppose only time will tell how long I can stand the sight of spilled blood over my own moral fiber. – Scribe Haylen's Personal Log, Fallout 4
If you can recognise some foreshadowing, you can see where this is going.
I think the game doesn't force you to fight the Brotherhood with the Minutemen because you are the General of the Minutemen. It doesn't have karma options, it asks you to review the situation and make a decision what to do. You can fight the Brotherhood, if you choose to. In fact, you kind of swore that you would.
Yeah, they're running a protection racket. What are you going to do about it?
And I think that's very in line with the sort of story Fallout 4 wants to tell.
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riansdiary · 2 days
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IT'S NOT MANIFESTING, IT'S HAVING AND BEING NOW!
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Hello my dearest gentle readers! 💎
Did you miss me? I am back with another epiphany! I had it last few weeks ago and it was when I realized that we f*cking over complicated the law of assumption too much. When I started manifesting with the help of Hyler's videos, there was no stress or worrying or over complication about it at least for me. That is because I knew that all I needed to do was assume that I have it now, there was not too much focus on the 3d because why would we identify with the old story?
Let me give you a simple analogy for this. It's just like changing batteries or having a new phone or erasing the board for a new lesson. When you need to change the batteries of your remote, you just put in the new ones (new story) and that's it. You forget and toss the old ones (old story) in the trash! That's how simple it is. There's no "why is it still not working?" or "what if it doesn't work?" when manifesting because that is being in the middle!
You're hanging in the balance and your subconscious is gonna be confused so go straight to the end. Manifesting is that simple. You either have it or you don't but you're not just pretending you have it either. You know you have it. I don't even like calling it manifesting that much because that implies a process or waiting time. It's just having it or being it now and not looking or identifying with the 3d or the old story.
You just choose a story and stick to it. Heck, I didn't even affirm that much before to manifest things. I wanted to make the two vaccines I'm getting to be completely painless, what did I do? I relaxed and affirmed only a few times and lived in the end. I didn't worry because I knew it was done. I wanted a specific food I'm craving? I affirmed a few times in the state of the wish fulfilled and forgot about it. Later on, I get the very thing I affirmed for. We must remember that the 3d follows us. Okay so what do you think will happen if you're saying stuff like "Where is it? I've been affirming for x amount of time!" or "I've been listening for so long to subliminals but there's no results!"
You are now reacting and you're pulling yourself back to the old story. There's no problem if you rant or cry it all out. We're human and we can do that but we keep staying in the new story. The problem is if we give up. The only thing that is stopping you from having it is exactly those thoughts about the 3d. That is keeping you in the old story. If you're really living in the end then why oh why do you spiral and think thoughts like that? If this ever happened to you, you can just go back to the new story. Reject and cancel your reaction. I reject negative thoughts or anything I don't want. Yes, you can do that. Do not forget that you are the operant power.
Let me tell you how to really do it in the easiest and simplest way possible. This is how I used to manifest effortlessly when I started learning about the law. Now I over consumed and yeah you know, took too much info when I already knew what worked for me even before. Now, I'm not saying that this is the only way or the best way to manifest. I'm just recommending this. What works for me might not work for you but that's okay. We all have our own special way.
Now without further ado, let me tell you how to do it. Try it for two weeks or however long or short you want. Just trust me and try this out.
1. Think of what you want to manifest. Anything you want. Go crazy.
2. Either pick an affirmation or multiple ones to say in your mind when you think of it. That's option A.
Option B: Rampage a.k.a just say whatever you think if you have that already. It's just naturally whatever comes to your mind about it that is in the past, present or future tense. You pick what you want but personally I like the present tense the best. Let me give you an example and yes, this is what I used to affirm for the things I mentioned above. Let me link the video I got this from!
youtube
Example 1: For my painless vaccines, these are the thoughts I had. All in the wish fulfilled state.
"Oh goodie the line's moving so fast now! The vaccines I'm getting are gonna be painless. Yup it was painless, it felt like an ant bit me. That was nothing! I literally finished so fast and I'm ready to go home with Mom!"
This is what I thought to make the lines go faster which honestly helped so much because the line was so long but it started moving faster and faster after I affirmed. I also thought in my favor about making the vaccine painless. I made sure to affirm that I won't have the side effects that people are talking about. I did it like that, very naturally but I also repeated each sentence at least just three or five times. It changes a bit as I think but it's just the same sentence simplified or just another form of it. Let me show you what I mean.
"I got the vaccine and it was painless. It didn't even hurt. I got the vaccine so fast and we can go home now. Oh the line's going faster. Why is the line suddenly moving so fast? Oh that was fast!"
Something like that! It's just like my natural way of thinking!
Option C: Just decide you have it and keep deciding whenever you think of it and know that your words are law. That means that when you decide, it is instantly done.
3. Always replace the old story with the new story. Take the old story and chuck it in the trash. It's in the past. You now have whatever it is that you want. That means whether you see it or not, think that it is done and it is here now. Yes, full on delulu mode but not really delulu because it's just being in that mindset of having it. That also means that you don't need to find it in the 3d. Why would you? That's the old story and it's trash. Do not even think about it. Aha, do not even try. You accept that it is here now and it is done. Remember that what you focus on stays in your reality. It is that easy. You don't want to be broke? Okay forget about that. It's in the past and it's not true anymore. Accept that you're rich now whether you see it or not. Have faith in the law of assumption. Acknowledge your desire to be in your reality now. Acknowledge that money you now have in your bank account. I acknowledged that croissant that I wanted. Yup I know the croissant is right in front of me now. Instead of finding your desire in the 3d, SPAWN THAT SH*T! MAGICALLY MANIFEST IT OUT OF THIN AIR. Um, excuse my french 🤭
4. All you need to do now is to know that it's done. RELAX. Why would you worry about it when you have it now? Be in the reality where you have it now. What would you think now that you have it? How would you feel? You'd feel relaxed and you can kick back and watch movies! Know that it is truly done. Would you count how many times you affirmed if you had it already? No. Would you worry about it if it's already here? No. That is still being stuck in the middle and making it a process! What would you do if it's already here? Do that. Do what makes you happy. Watch some Disney or Ghibli movies and just chill because you have it now whatever it is you desire. Let go of the 3d and the old story because it's in the past. Please. Manifesting doesn't really include the 3d. It's just a mere reflection of your thoughts or state. That's all it is. And please do not wait for it. There's no waiting. You just need to know and acknowledge that your desire is here, you have it now and it's done.
Here's a little summary of that:
1. What do you want? Okay you have it now. Congrats! 🎉
2. Affirm in whatever way you want for a few times or whenever you think of it.
3. Live in the end/state of the wish fulfilled. The old story is in the past. Focus on the new story. What you focus on sticks/stays in your reality.
4. Know it's done now. Do what makes you happy. Acknowledge your desire being here now.
Before I end this post, let's do a little fun exercise. Shall we proceed? Just a little extra thing!
Okay this is the situation: You were rich all your life. You've always lived a lavish life and you are spoiled with gifts on the daily. You literally can always afford and get the latest Iphone or whatever else you wanted. You have always gotten whatever the heck you want.
For the first two, it's gonna be an acting exercise. More like try being this character and embodying them.
First is improv acting. Be this character and rampage or naturally say lines that you think they would always be saying. Think Audrey Hope, Blair Waldorf, Nate Archibald or any rich spoiled characters you know!
Fun fact: Audrey is my fave character in the Gossip Girl reboot! She's so cute! My inspo when it comes to being classy and demure! Idk I also really like her personality! That's why I used her gifs!
Something like: "Oh I really want those compact mirror cameras! It's small so it's easy to put in my bag and it looks like makeup! It gives Totally Spies vibes so you know what... I'm gonna place my order now! I always have money anyway and it's so cheap so why not?"
The next thing is a line that you can say. I asked Chatgpt to make me a random rich character monologue. It's like a vaunt basically! Imagine it's Blair Waldorf's opening narration line. Be it, Embody it and say it in your mind like it's just normal for you. You can read it everyday if you want to!
"I always get what I want. That’s just how it works for me. I don’t even have to think about it—if I want something, it’s mine. No questions, no doubts. It’s like the world bends a little to make sure I have exactly what I need, when I need it. And why wouldn’t it? That’s just how my life goes.
I walk into any room, and I know I belong there. I don’t have to prove myself or explain why I deserve it. I just do. Everything I touch turns into something special. When I want something—whether it’s an invitation to the most exclusive event or a last-minute trip halfway around the world—I make a call, and it’s done. Effortless.
People think money changes things, but it’s not really about that. It’s about knowing that everything is always within reach. I don’t chase after things—I attract them. Opportunities, people, experiences—they all come to me naturally. It’s just how my life flows.
And the best part? I don’t even have to try. It’s just who I am. I live on my own terms, and the world just fits itself around that. Everything always works out for me."
Here's the next exercise. This is something more specific. This is inspired by one of Hyler's videos that I will link here.
Think of a thing you're manifesting right now and imagine it right in front of you. For people who can't visualize, find a picture of the thing (if possible) in Pinterest or Google and look at it as if it's in front of you.
If it was right here in front of you, what would you think, how would you feel and how would you act? This has helped me immensely after I watched Hyler's video. I realized that I would feel relaxed now that it's here and my thoughts would align with it being here now. I would take a deep breath and feel relieved.
Now I want you to do this for your desire. I want you to always ask yourself these questions to remind yourself that it's here now and it's done. Whatever is in the 3d is old news. What you focus on sticks so focus on only what you want. The 3d is not included in manifesting. It's just the effect while the 4d a.k.a your mind is the cause. Live in the reality where you have it now, live in the 4d and embody the version of you who already has it. Don't do things to manifest or get things. That will happen naturally but that should not be our focus. The basics are to assume/decide/know you have it now. If you have it now then why would you identify with the old story? Do not identify with the old story. You're not there anymore. It will just stay in your reality if you pay attention to it and give it power.
That's all I have for you in today's post but I know or at least I am now assuming that this will help everyone and make it easier for you! I hope you're having a good day or night!
Yours Truly,
Lady Rian Whistledown 💋
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clangenrising · 2 days
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I know u said I don’t have to apologize but I would like to preface this with I’m sorry for upsetting you, I wasn’t trying to say that those with cluster b personalities are more likely to like- Hurt people, just that their “level of evil” is at a point that I can’t imagine someone just… choosing if that makes sense? I wasn’t trying to like make them little sad soft boys just that, based on my own experiences of having a mental illness that does disposition me to do bad stuff, their thought processes seemed similar to mine rather than how I’d imagine a non-mentally ill person’s thought process would work, apologies
I understand that. But I specifically told you not to apologize to me. I know it hurts to get critiques like that, especially in such a public space, but I need you guys as my audience to be brave about that stuff, okay?
It takes a lot out of me to feel like I need to console my audience any time i push back on something they say. It's kind of exhausting to do so much emotional labor.
As well, you're still not understanding my point, or if you are you're ignoring it to justify saying what you said when you really don't have to. Razor and Sardine did "just choose" to do the things they did and they did them for racist, sexist, and egotistical reasons. That's the whole point of their characters. People can choose to be harmful and just because that choice feels justified to them doesn't make it okay and it also doesn't mean that they must have a sympathetic reason for making it or they must be mentally ill.
I'm not trying to say anything about your experience with mental illness. It sucks to have a mental illness that causes you to make poor choices or hurt those around you, I know from experience. But I think you're projecting onto these characters and that was the point of my original response; to say "You are reading my characters extremely incorrectly in a way that is actually very harmful to people who actually have those disorders".
Please stop for a second. Think about what I said and actually work on your beliefs/behavior. Do not return to my inbox to perform contrition.
The behavior itself is the real problem, not whether or not I personally got upset. You don't know me. I'm a stranger on the internet. You shouldn't be trying so hard to make me like you. This goes to all of my followers - you shouldn't be so focused on getting my approval that you ignore the actual message I'm trying to send. I want people to learn and grow, I don't care if they come and apologize for having a bad take.
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heartsforkento · 3 days
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why you may be putting shifting on a pedestal and how to not do so
today we're talking about putting things like shifting or the void state on pedestal.
we'll mainly be talking about what it means to put something like shifting on a pedestal and how you can take it off the pedestal as well.
note: you can shift under any circumstances, whether you put shifting on a pedestal or not. however, if you do feel like it may be hindering your confidence in shifting, then you can work on it. also note that putting shifting on a pedestal is not the same as using shifting for escapism. they are completely different.
what does it mean to put shifting/the void on a pedestal?
let me give an example first. say you have exams coming up, lots of assignments to complete and it's really hectic. you think, "it's alright, i'll just shift to my IR. i'll be fine." or you think "i'll just try entering the void today." what you're doing here is depending too much on shifting or the void. but see, that's not the problem here.
the problem is you consider shifting to be something that's placed above everything else. something you give a special status to. and that's literally the definition of placing something on a pedestal. considering it to be an activity that has "higher class" than all your day-to-day activities.
and what has this reality taught us about things that are of more importance than regular things, or things that seem to good to be true?
it requires hard work. yes, that's what THIS reality taught us. everything that's good requires a good amount of hard work.
so naturally, when we place something on a pedestal, in this case, shifting or the void, we tend to associate it with something that requires hard work. by placing it above all our work, we may tend to assume that shifting is this tremendous activity, because our work required a lot of effort, think about shifting!
now, how can we not place shifting on a pedestal? how do we stop viewing it as a big thing?
firstly, grasp the concept of shifting properly. you do know that you can shift during the day as well, right? like you could blink and then be in your IR. it's not necessary that you're going to shift at night, or while you're lying down for a method. heck, you could shift while you're doing your assignments as well.
there's a reason why i'm mentioning this. this is so that people understand that you do not have to "make time" for shifting. so that you realize that you don't have to NOT do your assignment, so you can utilize that time for a shifting meditation or whatever.
shifting may be of high importance to you but is it something you put a lot of conscious effort and time over? no. it's like drinking water, which is essential, but i don't really put too much effort into it, it's just something that i do, something that happened.
now, how do i really take shifting off this pedestal? think of shifting as a hobby. a niche one that too. like maybe, taxidermy! it's just a little something you do in your free time and is always something you can do at any point in time, given you have the resources. which in the case of shifting, you already do. all you need is your consciousness right?
by associating it with something else, you'll change the way you feel about shifting. with changing the way you feel about shifting, you can effectively take it off the pedestal.
and of course, do what you have to do. know that shifting is going to go anywhere. you can shift in any point in time. under any circumstances as well. here's where i preach about the LOA as usual. but really, it's all low effort once you understand the LOA.
love,
rin.
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captain-mj · 1 day
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I’m gonna need Roacj to come and sweep Simon off his feet and Soap to be heart broken and full of regret. He doesn’t deserve Ghost
Why not!! Previous part for my folks interested
Ghost had listened to Price for once and he hadn't touched Soap's messages. Eventually, they slowed down, but eight days after the incident and he still received one each morning and each night. They ran into each other a few times, but Ghost would simply walk right past him.
Price managed to get Ghost permission to use his flat, due to how close base was, for the next little while which was a huge relief for him.
It had gotten late at night and Ghost had taken another "special cigar" from Price and he checked the most recent message from Soap. Just the most recent one.
"Please, Si, talk to me. It won't happen again." From two hours ago.
Ghost thought it over and then texted back. "Soap, we're not going to work out. Easier for us both to cut our losses."
"That's all you have to say? We exchanged I love you's. I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life."
"And how many people this week have you given that line too, huh? Either zip it or get blocked."
When another message came through, he went to his most recent messages with Price. "I want to go on that date. With Bug or whatever his name is."
"Roach, but yeah. I can make it happen." Price answered a little too fast and Ghost decided he didn't want to know why he was still up at this hour. He blocked Soap for the time being and enjoyed the rest of his high until he managed to fall asleep.
By morning, he had received the information for a reservation at 7 pm at a restaurant he liked well enough. A little more formal than he'd choose for a first date, but he planned to use Price's card for it anyway. Ever since Graves started funding the man, he had more money than he really needed and Ghost was more than happy to help him with the problem.
He didn't unblock Soap to see how many new messages he sent. He simply left his phone on his dresser and went about his day until 6. Only then did he check his phone to see a message from a new number. "Hey, Ghost! This is Roach (or Bug lol). I wanted to text you before we went on our date."
Ghost winced when he saw the poor guy had sent that message had been sent hours ago. "Left my phone in my room."
It took a few minutes before he heard the little ding of his phone. "That's alright. I know you're a busy man. Are you planning on wearing your mask tonight?"
Then a selfie came and Ghost regretted not taking Price up on this blind date sooner. Roach had his mask on, but his eyes and hair were free. He was so cute. Ghost didn't usually use that word to describe men, but that's what Roach was.
Big brown eyes and the hint of freckles. Soft looking hair that curled and stuck up everywhere. "I wanted to make sure you knew what I looked like."
Ghost hesitated before sending a picture of himself, just a medical mask on so they were on semi equal footing.
"You're just as handsome as Laswell said you would be."
His heart did something weird. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. "Thanks. You're not bad yourself."
"You flatter me, Ghost. I do need to talk to you about something before we go tonight."
Ghost gritted his teeth. "Alright."
"I'm mute. I carn hear just fine and I'm willing to text or write things down."
"Do you know BSL?"
"The basics. I mostly use ASL."
"We'll use BSL until I'm better ASL then. I'll meet you tonight, I'm going to get dressed before I'm late. It would be a horrible first impression."
Roach responded with a thumbs up. Unknown to Ghost, Roach was glad for the reprieve because Ghost casually letting him know he'd just learn a language for him before they even went on a first date (as well as letting him know they had an easy way to communicate until he finished learning the language) had his own heart doing palpitations. And that was before he even thought of Ghost's picture again.
Handsome had been understating it. He had wanted to actually ask Ghost if he wanted a new dog because he could be a really good one. But Laswell and Price had let him on the fact that Ghost's last relationship hadn't ended very well and that he'd need to be eased into it a little. So he pulled himself back and gave a much more calm response.
Both of them met each other in the front of the restaurant while waiting for host to seat them. The sparks were immediate, Ghost finding himself having a hard time looking away from Roach's eyes.
Roach pulled out Ghost's seat which surprised him a little. He still sat down though and hummed his appreciation. "Also, I'll be paying. More accurately, Price will be paying."
Even with only half of his face showing and no voice, Roach was easily the most expressive person Ghost had ever seen. They found ASL and BSL had more common signs than they first thought, but occasionally they'd run into signs with different or even contradictory meanings that would make them bring out their phones to compare.
"Oh, do you want me to order for ya? I can't imagine it's that easy ordering." While Ghost was sure that the staff would try to be accommodating, if Roach didn't want to deal with it, he'd be happy to help.
Roach immediately looked relieved and nodded, showing Ghost what he wanted. He was leaning forward and Ghost could see the start of the scar at the base of his throat that led underneath the mask.
Roach was incredibly smart. Not that Soap wasn't, he was mad at him, but he didn't think he was stupid as some people joked. But Roach had such in depth knowledge about a long, long list of topics and he didn't shy away from learning more about any gaps.
Occasionally Roach would single for Ghost to pull his mask down. He almost managed to keep the waitstaff from seeing his face at all, though there were a few times Roach had visibly been too wrapped up in what he was saying to notice when one of them was coming. He was less shy about showing his face than Ghost, though he clearly didn't like it.
They spent so much time talking, about how different insects are classified and the differences between British and American branches and what it's like being mute in the military, especially since his muteness was caused by an injury from the military, that the waitress had to not so subtly interrupt to ask if there was two bills or one.
Ghost told her one and gave her Price's card, eyes never leaving Roach's. He didn't want the night to end. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"
Roach signed back. "Want to get milkshakes and walk around somewhere?"
Ghost thought that was a very bizarre thing to do. "Yeah. Why not."
So they left. They hired an uber and kept talking, switching to only sign language so the poor driver wouldn't hear them arguing over the superior breakfast food. Ghost didn't actually believe it was beans on toast, but he knew he drove any not from Britain crazy. Roach was insisting it was biscuits and gravy. Eventually, the bug brushed him off and said he'd make them for him in the morning.
"Oh? That convinced we'll go home together?"
Roach glanced at him. "If it's not moving too fast for you."
Ghost blinked at him, stopping and actually thinking about it. "Yeah. I'd like to take you home."
Roach smiled. "You owe me a milkshake first though."
Ghost did in fact buy him a milkshake, with his own card even, before they walked around a park. At one point, Roach motioned at Ghost's milkshake a few times and Ghost offered him a taste. Roach tried his chocolate malt and nodded appreciatively. He offered his banana milkshake for Ghost to try. They didn't break eye contact as he tried it.
"It's good."
Roach smiled at him and moved a little closer. He used just one of his hands, but he signed it real slow. "Want to see what they taste like together?"
Ghost was kissing him before he even finished.
They did, in fact, go back to Ghost's flat and got very acquainted with his bed specifically.
And Roach did make him biscuits and gravy in the morning. Ghost reluctantly admitted that it beat beans on toast. Then, he admitted he didn't actually like beans on toast.
Roach hit his shoulder rather hard and ate with a little faux anger until that got boring and he was back to talking. Well, in between bites of food.
When the doorbell rang, Ghost's heart sank. "Not many people have my address." He grabbed a gun.
Roach looked a little amused at the weapon but nodded and made a motion for his own. Ghost did indeed provide one to him before pullling on a mask and answering the door.
Johnny was there. He was only Johnny cause he was out of uniform. "Hey."
"Hi." Simon felt disillusioned. The past 12 or so hours had honestly been perfect. With Soap, he had always had to explain things. Push back. There was always an effort on both parts to make the other feel comfortable. And while Roach seemed more than willing to put in effort and Ghost definitely felt he would, it didn't feel necessary to. They just kinda... fit in a way Ghost was realizing that he never did with Soap.
It was a weird thought. When he found out about Soap's casual fucking of half the base, he prepared himself to spiral. And he had even started. But now that he had a very successful date, and the most mind blowing night of his life cause Roach knew how to do things with his tongue, he felt like he had very suddenly just moved on. He didn't even notice it had happened. During his whole date, Soap hadn't crossed his mind at all.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine." Ghost responded, cause it was. While the memory still hurt and he wasn't sure he could work with Soap any time soon, it took more energy at this point to keep thinking about it. Energy he didn't want to keep spending on MacTavish. "Listen, I'm busy."
"Going somewhere? I can walk with you. I would like to... talk..." Soap was looking past Ghost now and directly at Roach.
"Ah. This is Sergeant Sanderson. He's American, visiting in the area for a mission Laswell sent him on."
"And he's wearing your clothes?"
"We also slept together."
Soap's face went through a range of emotions. Jealousy, guilt, a strange tinge of relief that Ghost didn't want to unpack, then anger that didn't fit the situation in Ghost's opinion. He didn't respond. It felt like they just ran out of things to say. "Simon."
Roach used the butt of the gun, tapping it against the wall. His eyes narrowed at Soap with a strangely dangerous look.
"Ghost."
Another tap against the wall.
"Lieutenant Riley." Soap hissed through his teeth.
Roach seemed satisfied with that, grabbing Ghost's arm and leaning against his side. He tugged his sleeve to get his attention and jerked his head back to show he wanted to get back to eating with him.
"Sorry, bug. If you want to go sit down, I'll only be another minute."
Roach didn't look sure but nodded. He grabbed Ghost's hand and gave it a small kiss through the fabric of his mask. Ghost wasn't sure he even knew when he put it back on, but he looked just as lovely either way.
Only when Roach was clearly gone, did Soap speak back up. "Replace me that fast huh?"
"At least I made it clear we were through before fucking him."
"Look-"
"No." Ghost cut him off and shook his head. "I don't want to fight. Truly, I don't. We're done. I don't want this. I don't want you."
Soap frowned more and there was clearly hesitation. "Si."
"I never liked that nickname. My brother used it when we were little. I realized last night you never asked. First thing Roach did was ask if I had any family left. He's incredibly considerate. He's so nice to me. Last night, he did things while we were out that I couldn't remember anyone doing for me before. The man made me breakfast for fuck's sake."
"I could've made you breakfast." It sounded vaguely petulant. A last plea of some sorts that fell flat before it even left his tongue.
"Yeah. You could've."
Roach had finished his plate and looked a little upset. He signed at him. "I didn't like how he talked to you."
"I saw. Don't like people calling me Simon."
Roach shook his head. "You're a lieutenant. They should call you that."
"They? You not included in that Sergeant?"
"I get special privileges."
"Cause you're pretty?"
"Cause I'm yours."
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