#I'm going to post it anyway because im tired and I think it's pretty good??

[mushyroomyducks]

From the 4halo "interrogation" because I loved the flowers in his hair

#It's 2:22am :D #I stayed up just to finish this and idk whether it's that good I've been looking at it for too long #I'm going to post it anyway because im tired and I think it's pretty good?? #qsmp #badboyhalo #qsmp fanart #q!badboyhalo #4halo #qsmp 4halo #Lemonmadethis #do not repost without credit

[yzashaven]

2023 KINKTOBER︰10﹒01 / 10﹒02

꒰ —♡ B R E E D I N G ﹒ PART 1 ꒱

EVENT MASTERLIST !

FEATURING ! ayato, xiao, diluc, kuronushi x fem!reader

WARNINGS ! breeding obviously, shibari, some anal, cum overflow :0, overstimulation, praising, think that's all + VERY SHORT HELP

NOTE ! like only one of these were proofread LMAO anyway~ splitting this into 2 because i couldn't make the time to finish all 8 of the characters 😭 + THANK YOU FOR 700?!?!?! + sorry to those i couldn't tag :( and for posting this late omg

event taglist— @yukiitaooo @scara6 @peakalatus @kanaedd @returningluv @im-the-ruler-here @scarafixation @kateybuggi @hanni7 @asimpforpeople @ju1yyyzzz @saturnsapothecary @alexiassleeping @cheeze-noo @supercoolusernameomg @shining_dhei @uchihaeirin @black-rxse @3herri-berri @anon-eu @gojoswife201 @abeitriz @chlebek1 @mechanical-lily @breadybuu @dawning-bliss @poisonedmoonl1ght @scaraismybbgreal @nothingfuninthislife @hellithides @eunchaeluvr @doumastip @pandash @cuntz0ne @zomzomb1e @bitchylillyrose @apocalypticchimera @wolfiafan10 @zxdksimpo

—KAMISATO AYATO

he's a very family oriented man, you're well aware of that, so of course it's no surprise that breeding is one of the commissioner's top kinks. even just the mere thought of filling up your cute little cunt with his seed is enough to drive him insane.

"you're gonna give me an heir, yeah? right, my love?" ayato seductively whispered into your ear as you tiredly nod your head in approval. he has been pounding into you nonstop for the past 2 hours or so, filling you up with his cum over and over again, making sure that it'll reach your womb. "you feel so good~ this is your reward for being such a good girl for me, so take it. take it all~" his thrusts begin to quicken, urging yet another orgasm for him and yourself before grabbing your ankles to bring your legs over onto his shoulders; allowing him to push his dick even deeper than it was already reaching previously.

"fuck—i'm sorry for pushing your limits, sweetheart, but i won't waste my chance in finally getting to breed you real nice~"

—XIAO

him being a yaksha and practically spending his whole life fighting; xiao never really got to know or experience much when it comes to intimacy. but god, the moment you stepped into his life, it became the thing he couldn't live without.

"o-one more, please..." he groans out, thrusting deep into you at a slow pace, his tip kissing at your cervix ever so slightly. your whimpers and pleas falling onto deaf ears as his gaze was fixated on the way your thighs trembled under his touch as his hands kept your legs spread wide just for him, drunk on the sight of his cock disappearing within your warmth with each buck of his hips. an obvious squelching sound could be heard along with the mix of your fluids overflowing from the sides, "if i pull out, it'll all go to waste, won't it?" xiao mutters out, pulling back until only the head of his cum coated cock remained, just to slam back inside and have you scream his name for the nth time that evening.

"this won't be enough, baby... need to fill you up some more~"

—DILUC RAGNVINDR

trust me when i say that breeding is one of his top kinks, probably around the top 3, i'm sure of it :3 he just adores how pretty you look taking every single drop of his seed; the way you look so perfectly fucked out is enough to bring another feeling of euphoria to him.

"m-my love, so pretty~" diluc's eyes were focused on your trembling figure beneath him, cunt already completely full of his cum yet he's still pumping more and more inside for 'good measure' as per his words. "i know you're tired, i'm sorry—you feel too good for me to... pull out-ah~" the sensitive head of his cock kissed all the deepest parts of you with ease; giving you so much more pleasure, along with the way he was constantly pushing his cum back inside further.

"...so perfect for me, my good girl~"

—KURONUSHI

shibari. his specialty, his favorite. he decided to try a new position instead of the usual mating press you two did; having you situated on the bed with your ass up and face buried in the pillows while your wrists were bound by a red ribbon behind your back.

"that's it, keep moaning for me like that~" kuronushi coos, hips slamming against your body as his cock thrusted in and out of your ass at a steady rhythm, fingers rubbing roughly at your swollen clit, continuing to drive you over the edge. "fuck—your voice truly is the best instrument~ and your moans... the most majestic melody i've ever heard~" he says in between uneven breaths before finally cumming inside you, abruptly pulling out and pushing into your already filled to the brim cunt, a dark chuckle escaping his lips upon hearing you moan at the sudden entrance.

"just made sure to fill up both of your holes, love~"

#♡.･ signed by yza ✰°｡⋆ #♡.･ occasions ✰°｡⋆ #genshin smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #kuronushi smut #kuronushi x reader #ayato smut #ayato x reader #xiao smut #xiao x reader #diluc smut #diluc x reader

[woahjo]

The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else. 

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost. 

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment. 

The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire. 

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear. 

Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters. 

A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell. 

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse. 

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent. 

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight. 

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula." 

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these. 

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity. 

"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent. 

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands. 

Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed." 

He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs. 

"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him. 

"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you. 

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?" 

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit." 

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane. 

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid." 

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess." 

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now. 

"Got a name?" he asks. 

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?” 

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling. 

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?" 

You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat. 

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am." 

He nods his understanding. 

"Come with me." 

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both. 

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed." 

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost. 

He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?" 

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising. 

"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to." 

"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?" 

Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase. 

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it. 

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step. 

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees. 

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you. 

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation? 

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!" 

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room. 

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him. 

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned." 

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost. 

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while." 

"Well, I'm back," he says. 

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word. 

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?" 

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check." 

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.” 

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?" 

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?" 

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone." 

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell? 

"Sounds like a good deal," you say. 

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock. 

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki. 

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..." 

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him. 

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you. 

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.” 

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting. 

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't." 

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation. 

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?" 

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day." 

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen. 

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this." 

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it. 

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can." 

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months. 

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up. 

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit. 

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks. 

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words. 

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.” 

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together. 

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.” 

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” 

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away. 

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”  

You nod. 

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.” 

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric. 

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet. 

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks. 

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them. 

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant. 

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing. 

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge. 

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring. 

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark. 

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back. 

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit. 

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway. 

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment. 

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now. 

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner. 

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner. 

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?” 

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.” 

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.” 

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group. 

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows. 

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.” 

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.” 

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina. 

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.” 

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning. 

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues. 

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.” 

“Mhm,” Mina says. 

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.” 

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.” 

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy. 

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.” 

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri. 

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever. 

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.” 

You swallow thick and nod a little. 

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.” 

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree. 

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from. 

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink. 

“Nothing really,” Mina says. 

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly. 

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?” 

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask. 

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?” 

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides. 

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.” 

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.” 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude. 

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?” 

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond. 

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.” 

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.” 

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds. 

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.” 

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in. 

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us. 

— 

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation. 

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop. 

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it. 

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough. 

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago. 

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize. 

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.” 

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.” 

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.” 

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?” 

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.” 

You recognize Katsuki’s voice. 

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.” 

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman. 

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.” 

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays. 

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?” 

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto. 

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?” 

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding. 

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.” 

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg. 

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit. 

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.” 

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find. 

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts. 

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod. 

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look. 

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.” 

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen. 

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop. 

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.” 

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you. 

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.” 

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes. 

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary. 

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant. 

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.” 

You listen as you eat your crackers. 

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.” 

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat. 

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.” 

Mina laughs a little. 

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.” 

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile. 

“You’re really forthcoming with information.” 

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers. 

“Can you blame me?” 

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked. 

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.” 

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you. 

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop. 

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder. 

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down. 

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl. 

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it. 

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula. 

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper. 

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.” 

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely. 

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering. 

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners. 

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at. 

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now. 

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly. 

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask. 

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from. 

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back. 

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it. 

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it. 

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from. 

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it. 

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him. 

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up. 

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones. 

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward. 

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind. 

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks. 

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.” 

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion. 

“Got everything?” 

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it. 

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers. 

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread. 

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well. 

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out. 

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe. 

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way. 

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk. 

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation. 

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says. 

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?” 

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?” 

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again. 

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something. 

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?” 

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm. 

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world. 

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.” 

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way. 

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.” 

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb. 

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days. 

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any. 

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it. 

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be. 

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source. 

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet. 

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.” 

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice. 

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.” 

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.” 

The group grows quiet for a moment. 

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group. 

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”  

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.” 

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says. 

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?” 

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.  

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.” 

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?” 

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?” 

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.” 

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?” 

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.” 

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds. 

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control. 

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it. 

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect? 

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open. 

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house. 

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place. 

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal. 

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling. 

—

“Need some help?” You say. 

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck. 

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?” 

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him. 

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably. 

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?” 

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.” 

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work. 

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly. 

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch. 

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively. 

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.” 

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.” 

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?” 

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others. 

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.” 

You tilt your head. 

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?” 

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is. 

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.” 

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little. 

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-” 

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.” 

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side. 

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun. 

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable. 

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that. 

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character. 

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow. 

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task. 

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket. 

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.” 

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out. 

“You’re doing laundry.” 

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?” 

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.” 

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.” 

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face. 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit. 

���If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.” 

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive. 

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick. 

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering. 

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence. 

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace. 

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.” 

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid. 

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little. 

“Were you?” 

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.” 

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway. 

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh. 

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?” 

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?” 

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.” 

“She’s pretty,” you say. 

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.” 

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little. 

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant. 

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?” 

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused. 

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little. 

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry. 

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.” 

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food. 

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him. 

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into. 

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you. 

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both. 

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position. 

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet. 

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.” 

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope. 

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.” 

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes. 

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier. 

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house. 

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel. 

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better. 

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator. 

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?” 

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in. 

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader smut #mha smut #bakugou fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #apocalypse au #tw.violence #tw.blood #tw.loss of identity #tw.derealization #tw.depersonalization #tw.exhaustion #cal.writing #char.bakugou

[python333]

I love your writings sm. And I love the way you write platonic stuff with task force 141 😋

You can ignore this if ya want but I just can't get over reader angst. Honestly atp I starve for angst. Could you feed us another angst fic? Like platonic 141 with a reader where she maybe got pretty badly injured while being on a mission? :3

AND. don't forget to stay hydrated and eat well!! Take any breaks you need 😌.

(sorry if this doesn't make sense English is not my native language 🥲)

below zero — python333

— — — —

synopsis u get thrown into a freezer after refusing to give up intel to enemy soldiers, and u get thrown into a freezer, and ghost comes and saves u :3

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 5.2k

warnings hypothermia, disorientation, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hi anon thank u so much for all the compliments!!! before i say anything else, i wanna point out that i 1) only really wrote ghost into this and 2) literally read the request completely wrong and i think im actually just illiterate because how did i mess up this bad. ALSO hi its been a month since i posted on here i swear i'm still alive i'm just super busy with school!! updates are going to be extremely slow, so i apologize in advance. still, i hope u enjoy it anyways tho!! its all hurt/comfort + angst/fluff + protective/soft ghost :3

When you were thrown into the freezer, the first thing you noticed were the bodies. 

There’s ten that you can immediately see, and twelve once you look a little bit closer. All of them are suspended from the ceiling, each hanging from their ankle—with said ankle being held up by a meat hook. 

When the door had been closed shut with a loud, booming thump you hadn’t felt any immediate fear. But now, as you’re sitting in the corner of the freezer you’d been trapped in—the corner farthest away from any bodies—that fear is starting to set in.

Before this, only a few minutes ago, you were being interrogated. Your captors were asking for information on the details of any upcoming missions, objectives, target locations, anything that you had about the 141 that you could share with them, they wanted. 

Of course, you didn’t say anything. You remained silent throughout the entire thing, not talking once, even when at the end of the whole thing your interrogator slammed his hand down onto the table you were sat down in front of and yelled at you to say anything. 

When he and his team figured out that you wouldn’t give them any information, you remember he muttered something unintelligible under his breath and swiftly walked over to your end of the table. He had uncuffed your ankles from the legs of the chair you were sitting down on and uncuffed your wrists from the table, and before you could fight back, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and dragged you behind him. 

Then, he led you to the freezer you were trapped in now, and threw you in roughly before shutting the door behind you. You had hit and scratched at the door for a good minute after being thrown in, and after you figured that it was a waste of time trying to do so, you sighed and retired to the corner.

Now, as you’re huddled in the corner, you kind of regret not giving them the intel they needed. 

The freezer wasn’t too bad at first—you thought you’d last pretty long in there, and mentally called all the dead bodies hung from meat hooks in there pussies and simply walked around for a bit. The walking helped warm you up a bit, but soon it got tiring, and you retired to the corner farthest away from any dead bodies. 

You think the freezer is below zero degrees—no, has to be below zero, because now, just about five minutes after being thrown in, violent shivers have started to wrack your body and you swear you can’t feel your lips anymore. You haven’t been able to feel any sort of warmth in the past four minutes, all of it disappearing within the first. 

And God, the smell. The smell of frozen, rotting flesh really isn’t something you ever want to smell again. Thankfully, there’s no live flies in the freezer—all of them had died of the severe cold, creating small black circles under each hanging body where they died. 

You currently have your knees up to your chest with your hands trapped in between your thighs to try and keep them warm at least, with your forehead resting on the top of one of your knees. It’s working, kind of. The palms and backs of your hands feel just warm enough to not be considered cold, but the tips of your fingers are so cold they’re beginning to burn. 

You pull them back a bit to trap your fingertips in between your thighs, exposing the area where your wrist and hand meet to the cold, sighing as your fingertips warm up just a bit. Your thighs, thankfully, still have some heat trapped in between them, and you think your stomach is still somewhat warm. 

Around ten minutes later, you feel the heat trapped in your thighs start to dissipate. Fucking fantastic. You sigh and let your head tilt back, the back of it hitting the wall behind you, making you wince at the cold metal directly on your head. The cold seems to crawl through your hair and make it to your scalp, small pinpricks of the cold spreading throughout your scalp and the back of your neck. 

You’re reminded of just how cold it is then, of how this is quite literally a freezer, and of how said freezer has already claimed twelve lives. Or, at least, has housed twelve dead bodies and several unfortunate flies.

Just then, the fear finally starts to set in. 

At first, you weren’t all too worried about being saved—you figured you’d be found soon enough, since your team has a general idea of where you are. But the more you think about it, the more your brain emphasizes the general part of general idea. You start to think about how they don’t know any specifics. 

Sure, they know that you were captured, and that you were being held in some small part of Italy, and the people who captured you—but what did they know beyond that? Did they know your exact location? How long would it take them to figure it out? And how long would it take them to get here? 

Would you even be alive by the time they got here, if they ever did?

You notice your teeth starting to make an annoying chattering noise and you bite down to stop them. The violent shivers that wrack your body don’t help, the intense trembling only succeeding in making you more anxious. You start to become hyper aware of the cold that crawls onto your back from the freezing metal you’re leaning back on, and you quickly push yourself just a foot away from it so that it no longer bothers you. 

Your feet are starting to feel numb, you don’t think you’d be able to stand on them anymore if you tried, for you fear you’d just stumble and fall down. You look around the small freezer. There’s nothing that could help you get out—there’s only the bodies suspended from the ceiling and the dead flies that surround them. 

You’re glad none of the bodies are facing you—you don’t know what you would do if you had to sit in the corner with a bunch of dead bodies staring at you with their vacant, frozen-over eyes. Thinking about the eyes makes your own water, and you blink away the small tears that’ve gathered on your waterline. 

You can’t feel them, but you see the tears that were once in your eyes now clumping together on your eyelashes, making your brows furrow. With them starting to cling to your eyelashes comes blurriness for the top half of whatever you can see. You sigh, a white puff of condensation hanging in the air as evidence of your exhale, and move your hand out from in between your thighs to wipe away the tears from your lashes haphazardly. 

You don’t bother to put your hand back in between your thighs, instead just resting it on top of your knee. Despite it only having been around fifteen minutes since you were thrown into the freezer, you’re starting to feel more fatigued and your breath slows down significantly, as does your heartbeat. 

Another ten minutes of doing nothing but staring at the wall opposite of your own pass by, and disorientation is starting to set in. You feel oddly forgetful—like at times, you forget how you even got into the freezer, and have to wrack your brain to remember that you literally got thrown into it and are now trapped in here until someone rescues you. Assuming they do. Who was it that would even rescue you? 

You think long and hard for a few seconds, and can scrounge up nothing from your confused mind. You let out a frustrated huff and let your head tilt and fall forward so that your forehead is resting atop your knee, another shiver ripping through your frame. It almost feels like it’s getting colder in the fridge. 

Suddenly, you hear a loud banging noise—albeit, it sounded more muffled to your ears, but you could tell it was loud—and guns being fired. 

You can’t really tell when the gunfire dies down, but you can tell when the thumping of someone’s boots grows louder and closer to the door of the freezer. You try to stand up, not really knowing why since you’re in no condition to fight, having been in a freezer for about forty minutes, but you still attempt to. 

You find that standing is extremely difficult after practically being frozen alive for the past forty minutes, because as soon as you try to even push yourself off of the ground with your shaky hands, you discover that you aren’t even strong enough to push yourself up a single inch before having to stop. As well as that, you find that the ground is just as freezing as the walls and air of the freezer, because your hands now ached with frostbite. 

The action causes an unexpected wave of exhaustion to roll over you, and you pant to try and catch your breath, breathing white puffs of condensation out into the air. 

You hear a loud bang against the door, and jump at the sound, your head whipping towards the door. You hear another loud noise, and the confused fog that’s taken over your mind only grows thicker, your disorientation only growing stronger with it. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the feeling reminds you of a word, and you know what the word is, but fuck, why don’t you know it at the same time? Why can’t I remember anything? 

There’s another bang, and you hear muffled cursing before suddenly the door bursts open, a man wearing a skull mask stumbling in after it does so—he probably ran into it to open it, you think, watching the man get his balance back. He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, and the moment they do, you finally remember something. 

That’s Ghost. 

Somewhere in your confusion-clouded mind, you’re happy that you’ve finally remembered something. But right now, you can’t really think about anything—your mind is blank, and you can barely even process what you’re seeing. 

You’re so caught up in thinking about the fact that you aren’t really thinking, you’re just focusing a little more on whatever’s going on in your mind and not actually retaining any of it, that you don’t even notice Ghost rushing towards you and kneeling down right next to you. 

He pauses for a moment, but after a second he makes the decision to put one hand behind your back and snake one under your legs, the warm physical touch making you wince. Not that you didn’t like the warmth—you just didn’t like the sudden temperature change beneath your knees and across your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ghost grunts as he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you up into a sort of bridal carry. He nearly drops you because of how cold your skin is—for a moment he thinks your back and legs are wet, then he realizes that no, they aren’t wet, you’re just really fucking cold. 

He takes a moment to make sure you’re secure in his arms before tilting his head to the side, all the way down to his shoulder, and muttering something into his earpiece. Despite being so close to him, his voice only sounds muffled to you—in all honesty, just about everything is starting to sound more muffled to you. You can only tell he’s done talking because he lifts his head back up and readjusts his arms around you, before walking out the busted-open door. 

The walking quickly turns into running, which then turns into sprinting, making your surroundings go blurry and makes your vertigo worse—it almost feels like you’re falling. You’re grateful you haven’t eaten anything in the past few hours, because you fear that if you had, you would’ve thrown it all up by now. All you can see are blurred colors—the hallways, you vaguely remember, because I’m in a building. How’d I even get here? Why am I here? You’re pulled out of your confused thoughts when you’re set down on the ground somewhere, and forced into a lying position with your limbs all outstretched. When you slowly blink up at what you thought was the ceiling, you’re both surprised and not surprised when you see the blue-black night sky. 

Not sure of what’s going on, you try to get up, but Ghost quickly pushes you back down, muttering something under his breath. He pauses for a moment, his blurred figure stopping any and all movements, before he suddenly picks you back up, making you wince at the way your head spins at the sudden movement. You hear a quiet, muffled—but clearer than before—’sorry’ from Ghost before he’s running again. 

It’s a much shorter distance this time, and instead of immediately setting you down, you hear something click and suddenly you hear another muffled voice. They sound concerned, you mentally note, Or maybe confused. Maybe both, actually. No yeah, definitely both. Well, now just concerned. Or maybe that’s confused. 

Caught up in your confused thoughts, you don’t realize that you’re being set down on a few comfy seats. You aren’t pulled away from your own thoughts until you feel two warm hands cupping either side of your jaw, and hear Ghost’s oddly distressed voice becoming more clear by the second. You now acknowledge the weird ringing in your ears that almost drown out the sound of Ghost, and struggle to figure out what he’s saying through the annoying noise. 

“—something,” You catch the end of Ghost’s sentence, and blink up at him slowly. 

“Huh?” You elegantly ask, coughing and wincing at your hoarse voice, not knowing how it got so hoarse—or why it hurt so much to talk. Your throat almost felt like it was burning, but it also felt oddly numb, a sensation you couldn’t quite put a name on. 

“Oh my god,” Ghost sighs, his forehead falling onto your chest momentarily as he takes a few deep breaths. He brings his head back up from your chest and says, “I almost thought you were dead when I got in there. Jesus, you look dead. I need to— I need to get something, a blanket or— why the fuck don’t we carry any heat packs or anything in here? Swear to God, I’m gonna—” You don’t pay too much attention to Ghost’s panicked ranting and shift your head to the side to try and look at where you are, and you discover that you’re in a car. Oh. Cool. You spot the door on the passenger seat’s side still open and swinging a bit, as if it’d been opened quickly just a few moments earlier for someone to quickly get out. 

Ghost suddenly backs up and gets out of the car, though staying within a foot of it, looking around for a moment before heading to the back of the car. Your head clears up the tiniest bit, just enough for you to be able to assume that he’s heading to the back of the car to get to the trunk for whatever reason, and you simply lie there on the seat cushions. 

A few seconds later, Ghost comes back with a somewhat-fluffy jacket, and carefully gets into the car—half kneeling down so that he doesn’t need to lean on the seats to get to you. He tosses the coat over your chest, and it does absolutely nothing at first, at least not until Ghost gets a bit closer and tucks the coat tighter around you, treating it like a blanket. Then, it starts to warm you up just the tiniest bit. Beyond that, it does absolutely nothing. But props to Ghost for at least trying. 

He quickly backs out of the car and once he’s out he closes the door behind him, and you want to get up for a moment, just to go see what he’s doing, but you don’t have to. He gets into the car again, this time in the driver’s seat, and he turns on the ignition. Once the car rumbles to life, he immediately turns up the heat and leans over to the passenger seat’s side in order to close the door, and with a grunt he manages to do so. 

The newfound heat makes you shiver, and it almost feels like you’re in a microwave defrosting. Distracted by the sudden temperature change, you don’t pay attention to what Ghost is saying into his earpiece as he glances out the front window of the car and back at you. You simply tug the jacket tighter around your torso and relish in the warmth. 

“—ay. So we’ll just leave then, and you’ll be fine?” You pick up from Ghost’s conversation, perking up at the mention of leaving, “Copy that, Captain. I’ll get them back to base.”

‘Captain’—Oh, he’s talking to Price—says something that makes Ghost sigh exasperatedly and take his index finger off of his earpiece, instead settling both of his hands on the steering wheel of the car and stealing one last glance at you before setting his eyes on the gravel ahead of him and pushing down on the gas pedal.

— 

When you wake up, you’re significantly warmer than you were… however-long-it’s-been-ago. 

You look to your left and see nothing but a white wall and a heart rate monitor—which displays that your heart rate is 115—then to your right, where you see Ghost sitting in a plastic chair close to the bed you’re laying in, eyes closed with his head tilted to the side and resting on his own shoulder.

You don’t bother trying to wake him up, not knowing how long he’s been asleep or how much sleep he’s gotten, and instead simply turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling. 

After maybe five minutes of zoning out and staring up at the ceiling, you hear clothes rustling and look back over to your right, seeing Ghost start to stir in his sleep. Just a few seconds later, he stirs awake, slowly blinking his eyes open. 

You watch silently as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and he breathes in sharply through his nose before looking over at you and seeing you staring at him wordlessly. You both blink at each other for a long, awkward moment before he speaks. 

“… Did you, uh… how was your… rest?” Ghost asks, not sure what to say. What exactly do you say, after saving one of your teammates from potential death?

“Good,” You respond, your throat having an odd, small burning sensation when you talk. 

Ghost looks like he’s holding back a few words for a moment after you speak, and after one expectant look from you, he mumbles, “You should really say ‘well’ or ‘fine’ instead. It’d be more grammatically accurate and is more grammatically aligned with the verb ‘rest’.” 

“… Okay?” You blink, thrown off by the unexpected information, “I’ll, uh… keep that in mind, next time someone asks me how my rest was.” 

“You get asked that often?” 

“I only get asked that by you.” 

“Ah.” Ghost nods, looking off to the side for a moment. You’d think he was your dad and you’d just asked him how babies were made with how awkward he was, and you honestly expected the next words out of his mouth to be ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ before he hesitantly asks, “D’you feel better? After the whole being-trapped-in-a-freezer… experience?” 

“Experience?” You question, a light laugh evident in your voice, “Yeah, I feel better. I like being warm more than, y’know, being frozen alive. Laying down in a warm bed is nice.”

“I didn’t know how else to phrase it,” Ghost huffs out, leaning back in his seat. 

“So you’re gonna correct me on my grammar but you can’t think of a better word than ‘experience’?” 

“Don’t get smart with me, [c/n].” 

“I’m just saying,” You shrug lightly, wincing a little when your shoulders ache as you do. Ghost notices this and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t mention it. 

“Then stop trying to sass me.” 

“Sass you? Jesus, fuck, don’t talk to me like I’m some preteen who just found out that they can talk back to their parents.” 

“Isn’t that what you are, though?” 

“No, I’m— you know what? Fuck you. Get out. I hate you. You suck.” 

“That’s a colorful choice of words to say to the man who saved your life,” Ghost raises an eyebrow at you, “I’m still waiting for my ‘thank you’, by the way.” 

“Don’t care, you’re never getting it,” You say stubbornly, making Ghost sigh and stand up. You look up at him as he stands up and try to sit up in your bed, but wince again when you try to move your arms. Still, you attempt to push yourself up, and only relax your weak joints and lay back down when Ghost presses a gentle hand to your shoulder to get you to stop trying to sit up. 

“Don’t,” He warns softly—you didn’t know his voice could get that soft—as he pushes you back down, “Medics said you’re to keep laying down for a bit while you warm up. We’ve gotta wait until your BPM is below a hundred before letting you up.” 

“That’s stupid,” You huff out, though not fighting Ghost pushing you back down. 

“It’s not stupid,” Ghost lightly chastises you, “It’s doctor’s orders. Once your BPM is below a hundred, we’ll know you’re warmed up enough to start gettin’ up and walking around.” 

“… Still stupid,” You grumble, not commenting on the way Ghost’s hand lingers on your shoulder even after you’ve already laid back down. Ghost sighs and kneels down so that his shoulders are level with the railing of your bed. 

“You’re too stubborn.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“No I’m not!” Your light arguing only proves Ghost’s point further, and he knows this, the knowledge of it making him snicker quietly. 

“Uh huh. Sure, kid,” He begins to retract his hand from your shoulder, but upon seeing the disappointment that immediately seeps into your expression once he even barely begins to lift his hand from your shoulder, he immediately lets it rest right back onto your shoulder. 

You both sit in silence for another few moments before Ghost speaks up again, this time a bit quieter and in that same soft tone he’d used earlier, “I tried to get to you quicker. But we needed some time to get your exact location, and when we found it we were a hundred and sixty klicks away, and it was just—it took us… some time to find you.” 

“It’s fine. I understand,” You respond, about to shrug but stopping yourself, not wanting to feel that aching in your shoulders again, “I don’t even know how I let myself get captured, that— that’s probably on me.” 

“You didn’t let yourself get captured, you just did.” 

“Well…”

“Well, what?” 

“I don’t know, I just—” You take a deep breath before continuing slowly, “I didn’t let myself get captured, but I also didn’t do enough to fight against it, so I feel like technically—” 

“Fuck the technicalities about how you got captured, you got captured either way, and you got thrown into a freezer,” Ghost cuts you off, talking quickly, before sighing and continuing in a softer voice once again, “Please, just let me try to be somewhat comforting for once. You know I’m bad at this, and that I never do this. So just… don’t talk about what happened like that, if not for your own mental health’s sake, at least for my attempts at making you feel better.” 

You open your mouth to say something else but ultimately close your mouth and let out a deep sigh through your nose, not saying anything, letting Ghost continue to talk. 

“I, for whatever reason, feel… very oddly bad for you,” Ghost poorly explains, before pausing to think for a moment then rephrasing, “Not… not as in I pity you, but as in I feel bad for you in a way that I feel like I’m at fault for what you went through even though I know I’m not at fault. It’s like empathy but… worse. Not saying empathy is bad to begin with, but this is like if empathy was bad and it became worse and—” 

Ghost cuts himself off with silence and lets out a frustrated huff at his inability to put his feelings into words, and tries again, “I feel bad for you in a way that I don’t know what exactly you felt or how you felt in the moment that you were in that freezer but just the idea of you being in there without me for… I’m assuming an entire hour, if not longer, makes me feel like I failed. I don’t know what I failed at—”

Ghost quickly pauses before sighing and continuing, “Actually, no, I do. I feel like I failed at protecting you. Which is strange, because that’s technically not my job, but I felt—and still feel—obligated to protect you especially and that bothers me. Not bothers me in a sense that I don’t like you or the thought of… protecting you, but bothers me in the sense that I’m not supposed to feel like that. No amount of teasing, or borderline bullying, or anything should’ve ever made me feel obligated to think of you like— like— like…” Ghost trails off, leaving you wondering what he meant to say. He stays silent for a few moments, before you try to fill in for him. 

“Like… what, a kid?” You offer, watching him shake his head negatively. You think for another moment, before trying again, “… Like your kid?” 

Ghost nods affirmatively, hesitantly, and you want to scoff at the hesitation. 

“And what, that’s bad to you?” You ask, your words more venomous than you intended. Ghost sighs and nonverbally shakes his head negatively before responding to you.

“Not bad in the way you’re thinking,” He answers, before elaborating upon seeing your confused expression, “It’s bad not because you’re bad, it’s bad because I’m bad.” 

“… No you’re not?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“No, you’re really not,” You insist stubbornly. 

“Please don’t be stubborn with me on this,” His tone makes it sound like he’s almost begging you, which is… somehow beyond terrifying to think about.  

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest, you’re really not.” 

“But I am,” He sounds like he’s trying to make his tone sound like there’s no room for any further arguments, but he fails, and you continue to argue with him. 

“No you’re not!” The whole conversation feels like a parallel to the one you’d both been having just a few minutes earlier, except this time you’re not giving up as easily, “How are you bad?” 

“I’m—” Ghost pauses for a moment, not having expected that argument, and he weakly argues, “I just am!” 

“You’re not, and you fucking know it!” 

“Okay, well—” Ghost sighs and looks away from you, “You might not think so. That’s fine. But I know I am. If not for anything else, for you. I’d be… terrible as any sort of… I don’t know, role model to you.” 

“Jokes on you, you’re already a role model to me.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

“So am I,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “You aren’t a terrible role model. A little emo, sure, but not terrible.” 

“I’m emotionally and mentally unstable, and am terrible with empathy. I’m blunt, abrasive more than half the time, and I tell the shittiest jokes known to man. I can’t— I don’t show my face to anyone. I expect everyone to act the way I want them to. I’m almost always busy.” 

“At least you’re self-aware,” You brush off, “And, for the record, I don’t know what abrasive means and I can’t tell empathy from sympathy without using Google.” 

Ghost looks back at you in disbelief and stares for a moment before saying quietly, “Abrasive means harsh. And empathy is showing understanding for others while sympathy is pity.” 

“I also like your shitty jokes,” You add on, “I think they’re great. They make everyone else mad so I like them. And some of them are funny.” 

“You find them funny?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That’s…” Ghost blinks at you, eyes a little watery, before huffing out a small laugh, “That’s ridiculous, none of them are funny. I call them shitty for a reason.” 

“Some of them are pretty funny.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“The Mayflower one.” 

“… That one?” Ghost asks, tone humorous but still disbelieving, “Out of all the ones I’ve told, that one?” 

“Yes, that one,” You insist, before pausing and holding back a smile while tacking on, “Unless you wanna tell it again to try and change my mind?” 

Ghost thinks for a moment before telling the joke, “If April showers bring May flowers, what do Mayflowers bring?” 

You feign cluelessness for a moment, “What do they bring?” 

“Pilgrims.” The bluntness of the delivery makes you quietly snicker, much to Ghost’s surprise, the laugh not forced or anything. 

“It’s still good,” You sigh, small giggles still escaping your lips. 

“It’s really not,” Ghost sighs, finally retracting his hand from your shoulder to settle it on the railing of your bed and use it to help himself stand up. Once he fully stands up, he looks down at you, and one look at your face makes him want to whisk you out of bed and at least hug you, but he knows he can’t with your sore muscles and still-somewhat frozen skin. 

Instead, he opts for grabbing one of your hands gently and giving it a very emotionally charged squeeze, and holding it for another few moments before letting go. 

“I’m not forgetting that, by the way,” At Ghost’s confused eyes, you tack on, “You confirming earlier that you think of me as your kid.” 

“That—” Ghost stammers for a moment before saying, “That was barely a confirmation, that was just— that was nothing.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yes. Yeah. Yep.” 

“So if I told you that you saying that that was nothing is making me a little bit upset…” 

“… Then I would say, out of pity, that I did mean it and that it was a confirmation.” 

“Good to know,” You nod. 

“But that’s only a hypothetical.” 

“Right, yeah, of course.” 

You both stay silent for another moment, the silence now a little less awkward, before Ghost says, “I’m gonna, uh… head out, now.” 

“Alright,” You hum simply, watching as Ghost nods to you as a sort of ‘bye’ before heading towards the curtains in front of your bed. 

Before he can exit, you quickly and quietly say, “Thank you, for saving me.” 

He pauses, a little confused on why you chose now to thank him—and why you thanked him at all—until he quickly recalls earlier in the conversation when he’d mentioned expecting some words of gratitude. 

He smiles behind his mask, the smile evident in his voice as he replies to you, “No problem.”

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #task force 141 #tf141 #platonic task force 141 #platonic taskforce141 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost cod #mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost #platonic ghost #platonic cod #hurt/comfort #whump #fluff #hypothermia #*shows up after a month* hey guys #sorry writing slump fucking sucks #also school sucks #anyway its 4:30 am so im queueing this then immediately sleeping #shoutout to my discord friend zey who i talked to while writing this #hes great #love him

[nonsensical-pixels]

MY WEDDING TRAUMA: A SURELY-SIMS x ICE-CREAMFORBREAKFAST COLLABORATION, CONVERTED TO THE SIMS 2 [download - 👰🏽🤵🏽]

are you tired of brides in white dresses and toddlers with perfect pink flower baskets? is cereal packet gameplay just not doing it for you anymore? maybe you'd like your weddings to put the 'strange' in strangetown? search no more, the ingredients for the strangest wedding in sim nation are finally here!

so, since i caught that one virus, i've been playing around a bit more with ts2 cc creation and finally had the time to work on converting a big set again. but then... what to convert? the answer came to me in the links section of a random lookbook... in a sort of fever dream. a set that captures the recent theme on my blog, families, and yet completely destroys it at the same time: my wedding trauma.

everything here is remarkably versatile. i mean, i know for a fact that people aren't just going to use that jumpsuit for a wedding, elvis needs more freedom than that! there are 9 cas items and 6 buy items for a total of 17 items in this set!

the original ts4 collaboration is complete perfection; it has just the sort of trashy, nonsensical vibes that the ts2 wedding department is sorely lacking. my conversion of this isn't perfect, i'm still learning how to do clothing and there are some minor issues mentioned below the cut, but overall i think that it came out pretty good and i hope it invokes some chaos in your game. 💥

credits go to @ice-creamforbreakfast for most of the cas part of this collaboration, and to @surely-sims for the buy mode part!

keep reading for more info, rambles, and preview pics!

PART 1: BUY MODE (6 items by @surely-sims)

ITEMS INCLUDED ARE: 1 - Fancy Folding Chair - 1.7k polys 2 - Margarita Tower - 3.4k polys 3 - Pizza Party Banquet Table - 1.5k polys 4 - Tiki Mug - 1.7k polys 5 - Toasting Bucket - 2.3k polys 6 - Wedding Arch - 10.2k polys*

individual previews are also to be found in the download!

THINGS TO NOTE: - The wedding arch is quite high-poly compared to other objects (10k) but that is the max for the polycounts. - The collection file included in the 'Surely-Sims' folder should go in the Collections folder in Documents.

PART 2: CAS (8 items by @ice-creamforbreakfast and 1 by @surely-sims)

ITEMS INCLUDED ARE: 1 - Brandi Dress (YF-AF) - 3.9k polys 2 - Elvis Glasses (TU-EU) - 1.7k polys 3 - Elvis Jumpsuit (YM-AM) - 4.9k polys 4 - Goopy Jacket (TM-AM) - 2.3k polys 5 - Jess Hair (YF-EF) - 5.4k polys 6 - Kelly-Marie Hair (TF-EF) - 9.4k polys 7 - Malborough Dress (YF-AF) - 7.1k polys 8 - Newport Headpiece (YF-AF) 9 - Trashleen's Cigarette Bouquet (YF-EF) note: the Jess Hair is not part of the original set but is included because the Newport Headpiece is meant to pair with it.

individual previews are also to be found in the download!

THINGS TO NOTE: - The clothing may have some bone assignment issues (especially with straps) & mild gaps. - The 'Goopy Jacket' has a mild discoloration around the neckline. - All hairs are in @skittlessims Skittles Hair System - The 'Elvis Jumpsuit' is paired with 4t2 SP01 Pointed Stud. Converted by me :) - The 'Malborough Dress' is paired with Ice-CreamForBreakfast's Jessica Shoes.

PART 3: THANKS & RAMBLE

have one final pic of the quirky couple and their patchwork family (ex-wife and dog included) 💞

this set was such a rollercoaster to work on, but also so, so much fun! i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do 🥺

for anyone who's wondering--yeah i'm back for now, requests are still closed, wips depend on whether im in the mood... but from now on releases should be less queued and have a more 'personal touch' 😏

i'll get around to posting the discord-exclusives i released while i was gone... eventually. there's a few that i'm keeping for myself x

anyway... happy simming, hope you enjoy these conversions, and have a lovely day simming! if you use these feel free to @ me, i wanna see the chaos and the cool stuff these are used in 🥰

love,

~ Ky (nonsensical-pixels)

#s2cc #sims 2 cc #the sims 2 #sims 2 download #ts2 #the sims 2 cc #ts2 download #4t2 #4t2 conversion #4t2 buy #4t2 cas #long post

[leclerced]

Hi Cait!! How have you been? I’m back!! I’ve been sick for the past week and it’s been killing me. I had an event to go to today and was dying the entire time 😭. Anyways, I just read your frat!oscar imagines and I need more.

Like imagine a guy at party is consistently hitting on her and she’s like hell no. Even after she walks away he’s still being an asshole. Oscar sees this and interferes and they fuck and confess there feeling or some type of shit like that.

not sure if i like this bc im very tired and i got a migraine while writing but wanted to post it before i went to bed soo here u go baby i hope it is ok <3

they're not official but it's clear to everyone at the party that she's off limits because she's been with oscar the entire time, at this party and every party for the past few weeks. he's in the middle of a beer pong game when she empties her cup and sets out to get a new one, oscar tries asking her to wait so he can go with but she wants a sprite cocktail now.

the guy was blocking the drinks in the kitchen and insisted on making the drink for her. "hey pretty, what's your name? you here alone? what can i get you?"

she cowls at the questions and pulls her cup to her chest, "i'm with a friend, and i've got it."

he shakes his head and lurches forwards to snag the cup, "nonsense. what are you drinking?"

she grits her teeth before telling him. he walks like a turtle to the fridge, "so, you said you're with a friend but you look pretty alone. need some company?" he shoots her a wink as he scoops ice into her cup and she holds back a gag at the sight.

"i'm good. i'm just getting a drink, he's playing beer pong." he wrinkles his nose and grumbles, "beer is for losers, liquor is where it's at. what are you doing with a guy who plays beer pong?" he pours a ridiculous amount into her cup as she says it, then pours a small amount of sprite on top before thrusting it towards her. she ignores the urge to point out that he's literally at a frat party, he should expect drinking games, but she doesn't want to prolong the conversation. the liquid sloshes out of the cup as she takes it and she makes a plan to dump it outside when she goes back to oscar for him to make her a drink. "thanks." she drops the one word to end the conversation and turns to exit the kitchen, heading straight towards the backdoor.

unfortunately, he follows her. "i could show you a good time, sweetheart. what's your name? you didn't tell me." she ignores him again, but this clearly upsets him because the next thing she knows, a hand is on her wrist jerking her back. "hey! i'm talking to you. what's your name?" the cup of alcohol sloshes on the ground and she seeks it splash on her shoes.

oscar ends up leaving the game when she doesn't return within the time it takes to fetch drink, has one of his brothers take his place and they make him down three drinks to make up for what he'd drank. he barely makes it inside before he sees her pressed against a wall by some partier. at first, he sees her hands on his chest and feels his gut twist as he thinks she's about to pull him in for a kiss, but then he realizes she's trying to push him away and ducking her face away from his. he doesn't think twice before he pulls him away and slams him into the opposite wall, balling the guys polo into his fists to hold him there as he growls, "keep your fucking hands off my girl."

the man immediately pushes oscar back but oscar holds his ground and pushes him back into the wall as he argues, "hey man! i didn't know she was anyone's girl."

reader pipes up that she mentioned she was with someone and oscar snorts as he pulls the guy from the wall and pushes him towards the back door, "get the fuck out of my house, and don't fuckin come back, got it?" he turns back to the girl he was looking for and pulls her into his arms, "you're okay?"

she nods as she wraps her arms around him, "you called me your girl. that's new."

he shakes his head, "really not the focus right now, tell me you're okay."

she grins and pushes up on her tip toes, "i'm okay, now can we focus on you calling me your girl?"

he rolls his eyes and presses his lips to hers briefly before spinning her around and nudging her forward, "what am i gonna do with you?"

she giggles at his teasing and holds a hand behind her as she fires back, "i have a few ideas, mind if i show you?" oscar takes the hand and lets her lead him up to his bedroom before he fishes his keys out of his pockets to unlock the door. she doesn't get the full feelings confession but he's very possessive as soon as the door shuts and tells her she's his as much as she wants to hear it, relishes in the way she whimpers and asks him to say it again and again and then repeats it back to him.

feelings talk comes later when they are sober and he's ready to be a boyfriend. he has a lot on his plate with college and has this idea of the college experience and a girlfriend isn't a part of it. or he had his heart shattered before and he doesn't want reader to hurt him again.

#ask #notturlover #frat!oscar

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 20 - Dave York

Numb

Pairing: Dark!Dave York x afab!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, dddne, this is not the darkest thing I've written, but it is the darkest I've posted. Non-con piv, non-con knife play, reader gets cut, blood as lube, spit kink, spit as lube, degrading nicknames, restraints, Dave is MEAN, multiple slaps, literal abuse, stockholm syndrome vibes? Stuff im forgetting

Summary: Dave comes home after a rough day to find out that you didn't do the one thing he asked for.

A/N: Y'all, I want to like this one so bad, but I just read over it and I didn't think it was as good as I anticipated. 😭 Maybe it's just because I know I wrote it, or maybe I'm just tired out of my mind. Idk, I'll try to read it in the morning. Anyways, please keep in mind that this is a DARK FIC. If you don't like it, don't read it.

****

You’re sitting on the couch, idly watching TV when Dave gets home. You smile brightly, jumping up from the sofa to greet him at the door, resisting the urge to cross your fingers in hopes that he’s in a good mood. 

You had pampered yourself today, making yourself look soft and pretty, your hair shiny and perfectly in place. You had slipped on a dress that he had brought home a week or so ago as a reward. He’d been so happy and kind that week, and you’d felt so special with the way he paid so much attention to you. 

You hope that he’ll do the same again when he sees you like this, all dolled up just for him. Though it’s a reward enough just to know when you have his approval. 

“Hey, baby,” you say tentatively as you peak your head into the doorway. 

Dave turns around to look at you as he takes off his coat, his expression blank as he takes in your appearance. Your smile falters, though you try to keep it up. His eyes are dark, his jaw set with a particular hint of annoyance. He’s had a bad day. 

Ignoring the part of your brain that screams at you to go hide, you step toward him slowly. He doesn’t move as you approach, just continues to watch as you gently undo his tie and hang it up on the rack next to his coat. 

The air is thick with tension around the two of you as you look into each other’s eyes. Where your gaze is hesitant, exposing the fact that you have to put effort into not cowering in his presence, his is hard, revealing the fact that he gains something from your submission. 

You try so hard not to be afraid of him anymore, but you just can’t help it sometimes. He’s good to you when you’re good, only mean when he says you’re not. The only problem is that he seems to decide when you’re acting good or bad, even if you’re on your best behavior. 

Because of this, you’re in a constant state of reluctance and worried anticipation. You never know when he’s going to snap again. 

“D-Dave?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Do you want to talk–” 

“Would you shut the fuck up for just one second?” He’s quick to interrupt as he shoves past you and into the kitchen. You close your eyes, gulping down the sudden disappointment that bubbles in your throat. 

That’s okay, though. You’ll brush it off. You’re probably just over-reacting again. 

You sigh and spin on your heel to follow him into the kitchen. 

“Are you hungry? I can make you something if you wan–”

“Christ, woman! Do you have a damn off switch? If I want something, I’ll fucking tell you I want it.” 

You reel back at his harsh words, not expecting them quite this early. You open your mouth to comply, but the warning look he gives you makes you shut it and nod instead.

He moves to the sink, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands, when he stops abruptly in front of it. For a moment, you’re confused, but then you remember what you had forgotten to do today. Your eyes go wide and your stomach drops. 

“I ask you for one. fucking. thing,” Dave says, his back turned toward you. His voice makes you shudder, the tone much too low to mean anything good. He turns around now, fury in his eyes as he breaks under the last straw. 

“Useless goddamn bitch,” he slowly seethes, stalking toward you. Your breathing goes shallow, your body tingly as you watch him get closer, already knowing what's to come. 

You sink back, your ass hitting the floor as you scootch back until you hit the wall. You’re cowering, your body already shaking as you wrap your arms around your head and squeeze yourself into the tiniest ball possible. 

“Dave, please! I swear I didn’t mean to forget, IswearIswearIswear, please, I–”

You're cut off by your own scream as Dave yanks you up by your hair, your scalp stinging as strands rip from the force he uses to pull your face to his. You’re blubbering as he spits degrading remarks your way, far too panicked to hear everything he’s saying. 

You catch snippets here and there as you push against his chest, only serving to hurt your tender head more as he tightens his grip on your hair to keep you close. 

“Fucking dumb—can’t remember shit—Don’t even know why I keep you here—can’t even tell you to do the dishes–”

He just keeps going, every beration digging into your skin until you feel like you’re being coddled by razors. 

“D-Dave, Please–” you try to stop it, even though you know better. His hand comes down sharp across your cheek before you can even process it being raised. Your neck aches from the way it’s forced to the side, almost distracting you from the stinging pain coming from your reddening skin. 

You choke on a sob, your tears stopping momentarily from the shock. Through the ringing in your ears and the pain that spreads through your jaw, you register how your makeup has been messed up from your crying, and you almost want to laugh with how stupid of a thought that is. 

You don’t, of course, because Dave’s quickly pulling you back to reality with a firm hand on your chin, making you look into his eyes. Tears continue to run hot down your face as you let him move you, feeling too defeated at this point to try anything else. 

“You hear me, bitch?” He asks, giving your jaw a firm shake. You blink at him, forgetting at this point that you have the ability to speak at all. It’s not like he would hear you anyway. 

“Said I’m gonna get some fucking use out of you. Seems there’s only one thing a dumb whore like you is good for.” 

You just keep watching him, your expression fallen as you watch it happen. Again. What else can you do? It’s never helped to do anything else before. 

He snarls, clearly annoyed that you’re not giving him another reason to reprimand you. He stands to his full height, tossing you back to the floor as he does so. 

The back of your head knocks forcefully against the tile, and you feel your teeth rattle as the light above you starts to blur. You think faintly that you may want to move, but your body doesn’t want to comply. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. 

You settle for blankly watching Dave as he tugs his belt through the loops before unzipping himself. His eyes stay on you the entire time, and you think you whimper at some point because of the smirk on his face. 

You hate the way your tears run thinly into your hairline, settling there uncomfortably, but you can’t be bothered to wipe them away. You’re tired, you just want to disappear. Unfortunately, you know you can’t do that, so you settle for the next best thing—staying still and silent in hopes that you can block everything out, dissociate yourself somehow. 

Your body jolts as Dave kneels down in front of you, pulling your hips closer to him. You must have been watching the light again, lost in your hazy thoughts. A pathetic sob slips through your lips, and you taste blood as they open. You must have bit your bottom lip when you hit the floor—or maybe it was split from the slap. You don’t know. Don’t care at this point. You just want this to be over. 

Vaguely, you register that it hasn’t even started. 

“You just going to lay there?” Dave points out more than asks as he reaches for your panties. “You really are damn stupid. Must want this, fucking slut.” 

Your eyes close tightly as you feel your panties get ripped in half. 

He’s right, you are stupid. Only a stupid girl would let this happen. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

The word repeats like a chant in your head, your eyelids tightening and your lips quivering. Your body shakes and shakes, it’s all it can do through the headache you’re starting to get from the screaming in your mind. 

Another harsh crack makes you gasp, trying pitifully to take a breath as you take in the fact that he just slapped you again. You feel it less this time, though you don’t know why. 

“Look at me,” he spits once your eyes are opened again. Hesitantly, you look into his eyes, trying with all your might to keep them open. It’s like a nightmare, and the only way you can escape is for you to shut your eyes. 

The only difference is that this is real, that even if you closed them, you would still be able to feel the way he notches himself at your entrance, still feel his threatening stare, still feel every ache and pain that he inflicts on your body. 

He grunts as he starts to shove his cock into your unprepared cunt, and your mouth falls open to squeal at the sudden burn between your legs. No sound comes out, your tongue thick and dry as sandpaper. 

He doesn’t stop you this time when your eyes screw shut in pain, your body squirming beneath him as you try to get away. Your fingers twitch, as if just now regaining the ability to move. 

Dave chuckles at you before pressing a hand to your abdomen and spitting onto your pussy, letting his saliva run down to where his cock is half-way disappeared inside of you. He repeats this action three times before there’s enough lubrication for him to slide the rest of the way in. 

“Tight little hole. All mine to ruin.” 

Dave grabs your face again, pinching your cheeks until you look at him through blurry eyes. As soon as they’re open, you can watch him spit on your face, already soaked from your own fluids. 

You heave, trying to control your breathing as he starts to rock in and out of you, keeping a firm grasp on your face. You need to let it happen, the sooner he gets what he wants, the sooner this is over. It needs to be over. Let it be over. 

His pace grows quicker and more harsh, a sob leaving you each time he punches into you with his thick cock. It hurts so much, always does when you’re dry like this. 

Suddenly, your arms are pulled above your head, Dave’s cock still shoved inside of you as he ties your wrists with the remnants of your panties. 

“I have something for you, slut,” Dave tells you, a tear slipping down your cheek as you keep trying to imagine yourself far away. 

That quickly becomes hard to do, because there’s suddenly a gross feeling coming from above your cunt and to the left. The feeling of your skin being sliced open. 

As soon as you realize what’s happening, a scream you didn’t know you had erupts from somewhere deep inside you. It’s full of an agonizing pain as your senses hone in on the way his pocket knife digs deeply. 

You know what he’s doing, what he’s threatened before. 

You know that the next time you look in the mirror, you’ll be able to see Dave York’s initials carved in front of your hip, deep enough to leave an ugly, jagged scar. 

Dave laughs as you scream and try to simultaneously move away and keep your body still. You don’t know what would be worse right now. 

It’s a white hot pain that courses through you as he moves on to the next letter, his movement sloppy from the way he still shallowly thrusts into you. The wetness of your blood dribbles down until it reaches his cock, making the glide easier yet as he pushes it back into you. 

He laughs even after your screaming stops, the shock taking over you and halting all reactions but the silent sobs that wrack your entire body. He pulls the knife away after a moment, after he’s sure he’s dragged the edge deep enough to be permanent.  

Your gaze focuses on the kitchen light again, and you can hear someone calling raspily for help. It’s weak and wet sounding, and you don’t quite understand where it’s coming from because you swear you’re not trying to say anything. 

“God damn,” Dave grits out. “Will you ever shut your whore mouth?” 

You suppose you do, because the sound stops, and the kitchen is filled with nothing but your whimpers and Dave’s moans. You can feel him getting close, the way he stutters and pulses. 

“Gonna come in this tight little pussy,” he grits, grinding himself down.

You don’t care what he’s going to do. You’d let him do anything to ensure that this will stop, that it won’t go on forever. You just want it to stop. 

You don’t realize he’s coming until he’s almost done. His seed stings as it hits your burning walls. 

You’ve stopped crying. Your throat’s dry, your eyes sting, your cheeks ache, your cunt throbs, your hips are littered with tender bruises, yet your mind is numb. 

Dave only lingers for a moment before he lifts off of you. He chuckles to himself as he says something, but you don’t think you could hear what even if you tried. Your hands fall limply away from each other as he uses his bloody pocket knife to cut away your restraints.

Your eyes close as he walks away, and you don’t try to open them again.

**** Thank you for reading, please lmk if you would like to join the countdown taglist <3

FOTJC: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

WCC: @amyispxnk @melaninmommy @brittmb115 @mandoalorian @yorksgirl

Link to prompt list

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #dave york #dave york smut #pedro pascal characters #dave york x female reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #dark pedro pascal #dark dave york #dark fic #one shot #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #dddne #tw noncon #knifeplay

[fefairys]

I just read up to the breakup with Meenah and Vriska and fuck, i really dislike that whole situation. Got any thoughts you wanna ramble about regarding that?

OKAY I FINALLY GOT HERE IN MY REREAD.

god yes everything involving meenah and (vriska) and the vriska (vriska) confrontation is extremely fascinating to me. mostly because i resonate with a lot of it so hard it hurts. long ass post below. i got very personal lol what can i say. i vriska.

(vriska) goes into people-pleasing mode when she and meenah are alone. it actually reminds me of how she would sometimes act with kanaya. the vulnerability, mainly. but like. its a little different. with kanaya it was more like 'youre the only bitch around here i respect, but im still better than everyone else. i want you to like me but i dont NEED you to! (<-lie)' but with meenah its like 'you are the only person i have and so i have to be good for you so you dont leave me.'

she backs down super easily with meenah. sometimes she does argue for herself, but ultimately she always ends up deferring to meenah. she wants to agree with everything she says. wants her to like her:

^ she doesnt want to say the carnival looks fun until she's gotten meenah's approval. she has to be cool for meenah.

her suggestion gets shot down and she immediately sides with meenah. oh yeah i didnt want to do that anyway in fact i hate horses!

it's tricky, because of some of it seems like actual Character Development, and her getting over some shit. and i definitely think these thinks dont have to be mutually exclusive. she can be realizing things about herself and moving on from them while at the same time falling into habits that are equally unhealthy for a person.

she realizes she used to care way too much about stuff and tries to counter it by not caring at all. she realizes she used to push people around to much and counters it by becoming a pushover herself. this is sickeningly relatable to me.

the scene where meenah convinces her to get a tattoo is a good example of this.

she realizes that a long-held opinion she had is actually kind of bullshit, and that she cared way too much about it for no reason. good job, vriska!

but then she pretty much leaves the actual decision of it up to meenah! she asks meenah to tell her what to do instead of thinking for herself. she justifies it by agreeing that she loves pirate stuff anyway! shes trying to make up for a lifetime of bossing people around by asking someone else to boss her around. and she convinces herself that this is making her happy! and i mean it definitely is, in a way. it feels good to feel liked by someone. to have the approval of someone you look up to. it is making her happy. but is that... good for her? i dont know! it doesn't feel good to me.

this stuff is hitting me extremely close to home on this reread because i like JUST came upon the revolution that i kinda did this? not to this extreme polarity, but it still resonates.

i was (kind of am still, it's in my nature) a very bossy and controlling person, and i lost an entire circle of friends because they were rightfully tired of me telling them what to do and being so self-righteous all the time. so when trying to make new friends after that, i turned on people-pleaser mode. and i'm kind of still stuck there and trying to strike a balance between being a doormat people-pleaser and being a huge bitch that wants everyone to behave how *i* want them to. it is a hard balance to strike. its hard knowing when i should stand up and say something and when i should let something go, so most often i let things go. and OFTENTIMES i live to regret it. "i should have said something" is something i've been finding myself thinking A LOT in recent months...

and its tricky, because it feels good when people i respect say they approve of me. i feel happy that someone likes me. but sometimes that has come at the cost of sacrificing parts of myself. and it can feel good in the moment, to feel connected to someone like that, but then one day you wake up full of dread because you dont know who the fuck you are anymore. (vriska) didn't really ever get to that point, or, she never voiced it. vriska points out that shes become an entirely different person, but she does it in a way that uhhh fucking sucks lol! and is not helpful, because vriska's not exactly doing great, herself! she shows off her hypocrisy DELICIOUSLY in this scene.

she calls (vriska) selfish for.... being dead, essentially. and she justifies all her own selfish actions with it being "for the greater good," just as she always has. this is par for the course with vriska

^ i looooove this part right here where she sidesteps the fact that she did in fact plan to go fight jack but john punched her in the face to stop her. "different shit happened!" (i actually made the exact same decisions as you, but an outside force changed things and now i feel superior to you because i got a serendipitous opportunity that you didnt)

this whole conversation hits hard with me. it literally sounds similar to conversations ive had with myself! it's hard to not want to side with (vriska) i mean she does feel like the more reasonable one in this conversation and has had more time to think and reflect on herself, and vriska is being a fucking asshole about it, but like, i don't think either of them is exactly Right?

like, vriska has a bit of a point that (vriska) doesnt seem to notice that she's gone people-pleaser mode. but (vriska) thinks this is what happiness is. she despises her old self who was obsessed with inserting herself into everything and feeling the need to be The Best and prove herself as such, to catastrophic outcomes. so of course she wants to separate herself from that as much as possible and strive to become the opposite of it. someone who doesnt care about shit, and who lets other people make decisions for her instead of her making the decisions for everyone against their will. i think (vriska) was on the right track, but just couldn't really... Get There without the right support. and meenah was definitely not the right support.

but anyways like. vriska yelling at (vriska) at how disgusted she is with her is so sickeningly similar to me, looking back and realizing that i used to like.. stand up for myself more. if someone said some shit i didnt like i TOLD them i had a problem. i didn't let people push me around. and i think god, what happened to me? i became a weak loser that bends to peoples idea of what i should be instead of being myself. am i really happy?

but its not like i was better off before, either. vriska still isn't right. yeah i didnt let people boss me around, because i bossed THEM around. when i told people i had a problem with them i was MEAN about it. i said rude shit unnecessarily. i made everything about me and didn't care about what other people thought.

my past self and my "current" self (maybe like, my 'a few months ago self' i like to think im working through it but im still having trouble lol) are disgusted with each other. im disgusted that i used to straight up bully people all the time, and past me is disgusted that i seemed to have stopped having convictions, that i let other people decide who i should be, etc.

neither of them are really happy, but (vriska) sure seems a lot kinder, at least. she's made progress, but in a way that benefits other people more than it does herself.

also i love vriska saying "what happened to not letting shit get to you because you always knew you were better than the one slinging it" that is such utter bullshit. she is ALWAYS letting stuff get to her. all of her god damn actions are because she lets stuff get to her. everything she does is to prove herself. the cycle of revenge shit?? yeah totally didn't let it get to you. thats why you killed aradia and blinded terezi. because you were just so totally better than them and not letting it get to you. this stuff:

yeah. letting it roll off your back. lol

anyways back to meenah and (vriska)

meenah recognizes this vulnerability in (vriska) and it scares her. she does the whole "im abandoning you... for your own good..." thing, which... sucks! as you said, this whole situation just fucken sucks, man.

(vriska) basically admits that at this point, without meenah, she's lost. she let meenah mold her into what she wanted, and to lose her would be to lose herself.

but i mean i don't think there was another way this could've gone. (vriska) was essentially meenah's rebound after aranea (and vriska is her rebound after (vriska) lol) and it's just.. ALL bad. its just... everyone here has such deep personal issues that they cant help but let effect each other, yknow? meenah realizes that her issues are effecting (vriska) and thinks that removing herself from the situation is best. maybe it is? it turns out okay for (vriska) in the end, at least. as "okay" as she can possibly get, i guess.

i don't know. there's a lot here! it all just hurts and sucks. teens, man. how it is.

this is just my (very personal, frankly) interpretation of the events, idk. i think i said a lot here without actually saying anything all that substantial, as i feel like i tend to do. i just resonate with vriska really hard, what and you gave me an opportunity to ramble about it lol

#asks #enviousennui #sams reading homestuck again #vriska #(vriska) #meenah

[sunsetrubdowns]

Also. Hi. I remembered I can talk as much as I want to on here. Do you want to hear about this guy I kind of broke up with but kind of wasnt really dating to begin with and will probably have to break up with again for good measure. This actually turned into an insanely long post because it's an insane situation so I'm putting it under a cut because I love you and your scrolling experience and it's probably incoherent anyways

So. Well you may or may not be aware but I was couch surfing for like 3 weeks in September and a friend of mine who I met through work helped me out a lot with moving my stuff out of my apartment and into storage and helping me get my shit together. And in the weeks leading up to me moving out/while I was homeless we spent a lot of time together (like. Pretty much every day LOL) because I needed to be constantly distracted and he apparently had all the free time in the world. Cool!

Now it's important to give the context that he had asked me out back in like June and I said no because not only did I think we had very little chemistry and he was very needy but ALSO I was going through one of the worst depressive periods in my life. Really just was not the vibe at the time. Also my read on the situation was 100% correct like I was right about everything lol.

So you know obviously I'm aware that he has a little crush on me this whole time but I'm in a truly delusional headspace where I'm like well this is not so bad :) I'm having fun hanging out with him so whatever happens, happens :). And what happens is that WHILE I am still homeless we end up having a little feelings talk where I'm like well this is nice but I've kind of got a lot going on right now and I need to settle my life situation out before I'm comfortable getting into anything official or serious. And he's like yeah I totally understand that. But then maybe a week later after I secure and move into my place he IMMEDIATELY. And I mean like immediately. Starts calling me his girlfriend. Not to me but to other people. Like going around to my coworkers and people at work to be like btw we're together now :). Which made me kind of uncomfortable but I just brushed it off because I am a huuuuuge pushover and I was like, sure I guess we're together. Even though I'm very private about my personal life and it took me like a good month to refer to him as my boyfriend out loud and I didn't even MENTION him to my best friends (hi besties) for a couple weeks after that. Because I was like damn I don't even know what to say. Also he never even attempted to do anything more than hold my hand a few times so we were still just hanging out the way we had been to begin with.

And THEN he started coming to the bowling alley where I work every single night and just like.... hanging around for hours and hours until we closed to drive me home (6 blocks away) and to talk to me while I'm working and on my breaks. And when he drove me home after work every SINGLE night he would park and walk me to my door and unless I was very clearly like yeahhh I'm exhausted Goodnight Bye :) he would often invite himself into my apartment just to hang around until I was like. Okay I have to go to bed because it's after 1am please leave. And it got to the point where I felt like I never had any time to myself and my social battery was constantly at 0 and I was also spending way more money than was within my budget because he was dragging me out to eat and do things constantly and to go to Disneyland and shit and also at the place where I work every single day and not leaving no matter how clearly Im like hey sorry I'm just. soooo tired right now and work is so busy etc. There were only THREE days in October that I had totally to myself. I could barely even find time to spend with my roommate I had just moved in with and he also was not really seeming to spend time with any of his own friends when he'd had an incredibly active social life like, just a month ago.

It was starting to really freak me out that I felt like he was trying to replace not only his previous long term girlfriend who broke up with him earlier this year but also his entire social circle. With lil old me. And I felt like he was trying to force a level of familiarity with me that simply was not there like... man you don't even KNOW me like that don't talk to me like you know me. Don't talk to me like you know me when you're also trying so hard all the time to like, impress me and prove something to me.

It got to the point by mid October that I was like desperate for time to myself to decompress and process things and most of my mental energy was going to trying to find ways to avoid him and scripting a breakup speech in my head. And instead of trying to talk to ME he would go into my workplace and try to ask my work friends. While they were working. For advice on what to do when I seemed distant or unhappy. And even though they really only ever told him to just communicate with me he decided to wait until the day before Halloween to be like "I realized that I was maybe doing to much by going to hang around your workplace every day and also it's been a month and a half but I want to officially ask you to be my girlfriend now :)" and was somehow genuinely shocked when I said no. And basically outlined everything I've said here to be like I need to be left alone or I'm going to kill myself a little bit so please leave me alone.

But it seems like what he took out of the conversation was "I need to take some naps and then I'll feel better and then we can go back to normal :)" because he just kept being like "how do you feel how are you doing you look better are you feeling rested" and continuing to go to my coworkers and my roommate at work and asking about me and show up at the bowling alley frequently and text me continually as I just brushed him off over and over and eventually stopped replying to his messages. Until finally last week I was working on a day I normally don't work and he came in and I, again, kind of brushed him off when he came to just like do small talk with me. So he went to my roommate who was also working to be like "oh I think I'm going to talk to them today we need to talk but I don't know if they just want to be left alone or not..." while she (blessed angel that she is) just refused to give him any real information. But then he just kept like, trying to chitchat with me while I was working so I started brushing him off again and he ended up going to my roommate AGAIN to vent about me. And then left and texted her all this stuff about how he doesn't know if I like him anymore but he's just going to leave me alone and try to get over me etc and how he's been so stressed over stuff with his parents etc etc and framing it as if HE is breaking things off with ME. But since then has continued to go to her to ask about me and talk about how he's trying to get over me and heartbreak and whatever and etc. But has not expressed anything at all to me personally in any capacity since I told him I needed space.

Meanwhile I've gone on multiple dates with someone I genuinely really like and who has slept over at my apartment multiple times LOL. And there are so many little details of weird shit that I've had to cut for time here but like genuinely what the hell man

Anyways have I mentioned that this man is 34 years old. Because he's 34 years old. And if you've read all this you are so cordially invited to share your thoughts and/or guess his chart placements in the replies. Funny as fuck situation that I'm in

#🍀 #and now Ive made a tumblr post about it to get it all out. god bless america

[tonberry-yoda]

Im not sure if your requests are open still but if they are, can i have a Megumi Fushiguro! Aged up fluff, (not sure if your comfortable). Of preferably a scene were he is holding his child for the first time.

If not then a simple first kiss is ok!

My requests are definitely still open!! I really love this request and I did both a first kiss and holding his child (both flashbacks). Thank you so much for requesting!! This was so fun to write and super cute!!!! <3

Home Life - Megumi Fushiguro

Paring - aged up! Megumi Fushiguro x reader

Warnings - none! just dripping with fluff!

Word Count - 668

Notes - omg, my first jujutsu kaisen writing!!! thank you again for requesting! i hope this is good, i really like it, so i hope you do to! and have a lovely day @thatfanfictionwriter <333

And don’t forget, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! So if you want to request any writing, please don’t hesitate to ask, but please read my pinned post before requesting! Please enjoy!! Don’t forget to stay hydrated! <3

You turned over in your sleep, hearing the house phone ringing in the living room. “Megumi,” your voice was tired and barely audible. “Megumi, love, can you go get that?” Other than the sound of your voice, there was rain pouring outside and the faint sound of the fan that was spinning in your room. Megumi stretched, his shirt moving up to reveal his abs. His face scrunched at the sound of the phone, knowing that he would have to get up from his current very comfortable state. He looked over at you and smiled, petting your hair. You fell back asleep pretty quickly. Megumi gave you a quick peck on the cheek and ran over to the phone in the living room, hoping and praying that it hadn’t woken Ayla up.

“Hello?” Megumi’s voice was deep and tired as he rubbed his eye, waiting for a response on the other line. Just a spam call. He quickly hung up and grabbed himself a glass of water. The kitchen almost looked eerie at night. But strangely comfortable at the same time.

2:30. Because of course it was. Megumi couldn't really sleep anyway. Though, he kind of had the four year old to blame for that. He loved the kid, but sometimes those things could keep you up for hours. But he didn't mind the hours. He loved that child with all his heart and soul. While he was on the topic of thinking about her, he walked to her room to check if the phone had woken her up.

Megumi smiled as he walked in, finding Ayla fast asleep, her face slammed to her pillow. He kneeled down and petted her hair, smiling. She looked just like you. Except, Megumi was prideful to say that she had his eyelashes. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and walked back to where you were, still fast asleep. You looked so much like that child it baffled him.

Megumi can't believe it's been four years already. He remembers just yesterday when he held that child in his arms, the little scrunched look she had on her face as she fell asleep slowly in his arms. He definitely remembers crying a lot. He vowed to make the best home life for that child, since he didn't have the best. He wanted to be the father he never had. He looked into her dark, but bright blue eyes. Just like his. Her bright hair matched yours. It was like something out of a dream. He loved that baby. More than anything. Well, maybe not you. “Who was it?” You somehow got out of your deep trance of sleep and turned over to Megumi, holding his hand. “Just a spam call.” “That’s stupid.” Megumi giggled, playing with your fingers. “Did you check on Ayla?!” Your tone became quickly worried. “Yes, I did. She’s fast asleep.” You sighed, relaxing on the bed. “I can't believe it's been four years.” You turned to Megumi, who had misty eyes. “Megumi-” “I'm so proud of you.” “I'm so proud of you.” You cupped his face, scooting closer and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. “God, I remember when we had our first kiss at that godforsaken school and here we are, married with a four year old to call ours.” “Oh god,” you cringed with a slight giggle. “Don't mention that kiss.” “If it weren't for that awful first kiss, we wouldn't be here, so I think you should be proud of it.” “Proud of accidentally knocking you off of that bench and nearly knocking your tooth out?” “Yup.” Megumi pulled you closer so you were hoisted on his lap and he laid a small kiss on your cheek before giving you a couple of pecks on the lips. He wouldn't give up that first kiss for the world. That’s what started everything. His entire life was in his home and he wanted to protect it until the day he died.

#megumi fushiguro #megumi #fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro jujutsu kaisen #megumi jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #x reader #request #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #my writing #<33333 #:)

[docilepillow]

MARCH 2024 MEDIA DIARY 2

I ran out of embed space on the first post i had slotted in for this!!! So i'm making two posts!!!!!!! They belong together!!!! Okay!!!!!!! PIZZA TOWER < this game is soggy goop >

Even though I cleared a good portion of this game nigh a year ago now, i still feel compelled to put it on my media diary now, as i've only just got around to finishing the game properly! I believe the point i dropped off the game before was at Pig City, which, i think , is kinda understandable given how big that level is, but, was probably a real bummer for the whole of my friend group who were super into the game when it was new and i probably missed out on talking about it alot with them... POOP!!!! just because this game is popular enough to actually warrant talking about it with my friends later, instead of saying stuff like how i enjoyed the silly cartoony art stlye and the games general charm, im just going to post a level tier list i made the second i beat the game at like near midnight kinda hazy-minded without thinking on it too hard without thinking too deeply in a way thatll be completely inflamitory bc im mostly satisfied with the experience i had and dont really feel the urge to P rank anything --

The stats are saying my total hours round up to 6 hours 50 and pepinno is pointing at me Aughh

My , , Errr, " CRITISISM " of this game is that the funny pizza man is a little, erm, STICKY? Kinda gross. a little weird. Partially my fault. I'm sowwy. I'm not very good at this game but i absolutely respect everyone's opinion on it . Go watch my friend @shoppncart's speedrun, by the way, it's cool :

Speedy! THE MARIO MOVIE < the bario boooby geheheheheheheh >

this is probably a tired opinion but since i was subjected to this movie for the fifth time in a voice call my take is thaat this is probably more enjoyablel then the safeass illumination film. like. yea. that films probably objectively better but. id rather watch something thats an actual adaptation. like this movie. where basically nothing mario happens outside names . Aw. i honestly think this movie has intrigue to it genuinely maybe im saying this bc its one of the movies ive actually watched repeatedly before, like roger rabbit, but i think the history behind this movie and the old anamocity turned-endearment are what make it worth watching. that and its a little goopy You Guys Wanna See Some MM2 Proggys? not a new piece of media technically but ive been playing a fuckton of MM2 recently still as of the end of the month and its absolutely dominating my time as of late, and i kinda wanna show off a small amount of the progress ive made on it, as much as the world map, at least --

It's a media diary. it exists to document MY gaming life. Deal. anyway in regards to it i'm almost finished with the world 4 castle, which is crazy, because before i hadn't even finished world 2, but now i got all of this creative energy in me... If i finish this soon enough, i'd be able to upload it on NSO, so keep your tumpler eyes peeled, mutrals :J I personally like it because theres a theme of aescending on the world map. The space theme in this looks the best, i think.. THE ALCHEMY OF US - HOW HUMANS AND MATTER TRANSFORMED ONE ANOTHER < what the fuck ????? a book ??????? >

yea thats right im reading books this ones actually pretty good apparently a 2020 bestseller though im not in the habit of reading those often so i'll just have to take their word for it on that aspect. i think lifes all about trying new things so around halfway through the month i picked up this cool book i found at my library and got a library card. After reading through it all, i think anecdotally that this book is a very neat read. theres a few sentences that're a little offputting to my young mind but overall the book is filled with alot of cool insight i reccomend checking out if youre the boooky type of person! i think its very good and im glad i picked it out :) i donnu how many of these will be going onto my media diary in the future or anything , but maybe i will if i end up reading more! I'll have to make it up to a friendd for waiting till now to put up something i read here first before that thing she likes. oops.

Volp. OUTSIDE of the traditional media format again, also, are things i largely started on this month but don't think i'll be making all too much more progress in, or if i'm unsure i'll finish what i was doing all in one month- CASTLEVANIA THE ADVENTURE- REBIRTH

POINT OF DROP OFF - STAGE 4 END BOSS REASON BEING - UMMM SORRY I GOT DISTRACTED AND DIED TOO MUCH

castlevania rebirth is a really really cool game. its really cool and im not typing this as fresh as everything else because it was something i picked up for one big sitting earlier in the month. i probably couldve finished it at any point during the week, but simply was too distracted and wanted to do other stuff. It's very cool though, i love the vector sprite art, and there ARE silly stock sound effects everywhere, which is always a big positive for me . I mostly just like how snug the wii classic controller is , and this is a cool game to play it with considering its one of the only non virtual console or old game collection style games available for wii in this exact style ( Not counting the good handful of games that choose to use the wiimote on its side instead. )

over all ill probably sit down and finish this someday soon i just gotta like find time for it whenever next my wii u is plugged in ( it fights for an hdmi slot with my switch and ps4 all the time...! ), and ill probably end up trying to play punch out wii at the same time, given one doesnt dominate my attention over the other. From my understanding they're both short, though, so it shouldnt be too big a deal or obstacle no matter how long i put this off. RANDOM TERRARIA PLAYTHROUGH terraria playthru 1million

ii just really want to see the new terraria update Waaaah... i stopped having fun because i self imposed myself to not use setbonus armor sets at the part of the game where that stops being acceptable anymore so im stopping i think i did get to make another terraria pet though that makes me happy POINT OF DROP OFF - the mechanical bosses

also the most recent thing is

i got too tense and needed to excuse myself after like an hour 30 i cant take too much tension in movies i was really uncomfortable and had to leave to take a breather bc the main character gets put in a really really shitty situation and it was getting hard to watch for my autistic ass

thats enough i think thanks for coming see you next month lol

#Youtube

[prestonmonterey]

heheh it's that long or short anon message of what i think about you!!!!!!!!!!!

hmmmm okay so i do not know how close we are

i don't usually consider people my friend unless they consider me their friend first, out of like politeness, but i wanna be friends!!! we might already be friends and i don't know i think this is because of autism maybe or maybe anxiety idk idk

but anyways i think you are really interesting i do not want to overstep or be creepy or weird so its not at all like that but you are very interesting to me!!!! the version of you I my head is like there's two of them. theres.. preston.. adamandi and then the other version of you in my head you have black hair thats sort of like beatrix's if it was straight? and you're also tall to me

the way your brain works about certain things (ex: whenever we talk about the universe and whatnot :3) makes me stim, uuhm i think you're really cool and i like asking you questions and i like talking to you

we're literally vincent and preston from adamandi!!!! literally us!!!! therefore we don't like eachother /j /j

in my head it's like.. silly joking i don't actually dislike you not at all you're like the coolest ever and we barely really know eachother

I WANNA HEAR ABOUR YOUR TTS THOUGHTS TOO i love reading your posts about it heheh

if you were an animal i think you'd be some sort of horse or a pony. or maybe a bird or a lizard

if you were a planet in our solar system you'd be mercury, since it's the closest to the sun and the smallest planet (in our solar system, again)

aaand if you were a color you'd be blue.... if you were a star you'd be a red dwarf star... and you're like the random, decomposed animal bones you find in the woods on accident to me

i would love 2 know how your brain works but also im like that with everyone i wanna just crawl inside their minds and pull out the bad and the good i think i am autistic

if you were a pattern you'd be stripes. not zebra stripes or anything just plain block stripes! no specific colors. if you were a year you'd be 1835

i like associating people with things if you can't tell /silly (i ran out of explanations so I'm just telling you what you are to me)

if you were a rock you'd be limestone

if you were a household appliance you'd be that one fork in the kitchen that nobody uses to actually eat with, but the design on the handle is pretty !!!! not in a mean way that sounds rlly mean sorry

if you were a flower you'd be a daffodil; symbolizing forgiveness, unrequited love, rebirth, and eternal life. i think. i'm not headcanoning you to have unrequited love im just saying the meanings i remember off the top of my head. also it's yellow!

uummmmm yeah you reblogged this yesterday i think and i said i would so. here u go its not really that long but im also procrastinating sleep so. tired!

yayayay :D this is so sweet im actually giggling and kicking my feet rn /gen /p

i also wanna be friends!! youre v cool :3

i also totally get the like 2 versions thing i have the same thing for my online friends :D heehee im kinda tall for my age i think? like 5'5'' i really really wish i had curly hair :((( (my dad had kinda curly hair but asian genes prevailed so i have pretty thick, mostly straight hair) and i have an undercut :\ (not sure how i feel about my haircut rn. it looks kinda awful bc i have a scar on the back of my head where hair doesnt grow. bc scar tissue)

hmm for me rn you just look like vincent. but like. maybe a bit shorter idk

i also love hearing about your thoughts theyre so cool!!!

i think if you were an animal youd be maybe a mouse or raccoon?

if you were a planet i think saturn, not sure why

if you were a color i think youd be a warm, dark orange, like pumpkin pie or autumn leaves. idk you kinda remind me of fall i think

if you were an object youd be an old compass that someone found in their attic that was like passed down from their great grandparent or something

if you were a pattern you'd be honeycomb or tartan. colors would be sunflower yellow, brown and moss green

if you were a year youd be 2000 i think. last time all humans were on earth. not sure why but that fact reminds me of you

if you were a rock youd be jasper

if you were silverware youd be a teaspoon with a really long handle, if you were a general household thingy youd be those door handle/lever things with a spiraly end

idk anything about flower meanings TwT but i think youd be a black eyed susan or forget me not

:DDD

#marble asks #im assuming youre vincentauraliuslin? idk who else it would be- #kinda silly if it wasnt #ty for the ask :3

[shaampoo]

im probably posting too much about my OC's but its all i can think about rn lol, anyways, Mitchell Elliot, Hypnos!

"Could you guys keep it down? I'm trying to sleep here"

"Dude, it's 4pm, you should be awake anyways"

"Not according to my tired body,"

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

Meet Hypnos / Mitchell Elliot!

I named him Hypnos, after the god of sleep! Since his powers involve being able to calm people down and making them sleep, downside of this is that he's always tired (he needs to down a ton of coffee just to feel normal lol)

Since hes tired all the time, hes usually just at the hero base, he works at the infirmary (med place? dunno what its called), he helps by calming people down, or putting them to sleep when needed (ex. they're in immense pain, maybe surgery if it works like that, etc.). He rarely goes to battle, only going if it needs to end with no one getting hurt, like if a citizen was being mind controlled, someone's powers going haywire, a villain super close to a redemption, Jinx being a little fuck, or maybe a lot of people are panicking and they need to chill.

Yeaaahh, his costume is like pajama's, to be fair, he doesn't go on battle much, so he's fine. Also, he pissed off the tailor cause he kept falling asleep.

Hes about 20 years old (18 when he joined), uses he/they, and he's also albino! So he has white hair and light skin, he's also easily sunburned, and pretty sensitive to light, so he usually has sunglasses, and uses sunscreen and wears long sleeve shirts, and long pants

He also has pretty bad eyesight, so he usually has glasses (he isn't wearing them here since he just woke up), he doesn't wear contact lenses since he knows he can fall asleep at any time, and it isn't advisable to do that!

Mitchell was an accident child, so yeah, his parents were business owners, and they didn't have time for him, so he was usually left at home, or with a babysitter, Mitchell also didn't do well at elementary school, since he sleeps a lot, high school was a lot more accommodating since usually, high school is when their powers show up, so teachers there are trained to be more accommodating, (they also have a lot of teachers there and trainers, so students can get help almost 24/7)

Also, the backstory for Mitchell getting into the heroes is that one time, Mitchell's powers were flaring up, and everyone around him fell asleep, and the heroes got there, solved the issue, and saw Mitchells potential, and Mitchell joined them (which is pretty good, since most likely, Mitchell probably wont be able to get a job since he's always tired or falling asleep,)

Mitchells hair is pretty messy and fluffy, since he doesn't get much time to take care of himself

His plush bunny is named Pluff, he would love to have a real pet bunny, but he knows he wont be able to take care of it, he also gave Adrian the teddy bear in Adrians room!

hes Aro/Ace, his only love is the bed /j, he is Aro/ace tho.

Have trouble sleeping? Go to Hypnos! Have trouble calming down / need some comfort? Go to Hypnos!

Mitchell's room is really fluffy, with fluffy carpet, fluffy bed, fluffy plushies, etc.etc.

Mitchell can see the future a bit, kinda like, he can see the future in his dreams, but his dreams are a bit foggy,

He keeps in touch with his parents, he doesn't resent them or anything, nor does he feel anything to them anyway,

He isnt really a sidekick, since he usually works at the infirmary of the hero base, but if does go out, he's just partnered up with some other hero on the mission, a strong hero at best, since he's pretty vulnerable

Mitchell can sometimes come off as mean, he's just too tired to lie

For some reason, my thoughts want him to swear, i don't know why, like, the quote i was gonna make for him was like "Can yall shut the fuck up, I'm trying to sleep here" like, maybe calm down asdkjhk

Dream catcher because yes dreams, (it was a gift to him from one of his fellow heroes)

#Bleh bio is pretty short #but thats all anyways #OC #OC art #Shae's OC #Mitchell Elliot (OC)

[sol-the-otter]

tw. death, addiction

i dont normally make personal posts or anything but i kinda just needed a place to put all of my thoughts and current feelings.

i dont really know where or how to talk about this?

how do you approach your friends and say 'hey i dont know how i feel right now because i just found out that someone i care about just died.' but like. man im just not sure how i feel rn because i just found out that someone i care about just died. he was a good friend, but like. the kind of good friend that you worked with every day 8 hours a day 5 days a week so you knew everything about each other, but didnt actually hang out outside of work.

tho he did help me fix my motorcycle several times. and was supposed to again. and we were supposed to go riding at some point before i leave mass.

he also was one of the only ones at that job who ever got my pronouns right. he was definitely like. Cis Straight Man all the way but very much the epitome of "he's a little confused but he's got the spirit" he was an amazing boss. and he was the most lively and energetic person i've ever met. even if he was Real Weird about it.

he struggled with addiction heavily... last i knew he was straight sober... but they're pretty sure it was a overdose. which is how my mom died over a decade ago. which is entirely why i have some issues with like. heavy drinking and other such things.

but like. the world keeps turning, right? he was there one minute, and now he's not but like. thats just how it is?

i have a weird relationship with death and im uh. attempting to come to terms with this. like. i'm ok. im not .... sad(?) though i do think i might be in the future? like when i go to visit him at the butcher shop and he's just not there? ever again? fuck see, its weird, right? but like i'm *leaving* mass in 2 months. the chances of me ever seeing him again was minimal anyway. gods. processing.

but like if 2023 could fucking. stop for just a minute? give everyone a break? please? we're all tired ya'll.

#sol speaks #like im ok. #im just #processing. #i got the call about an hour ago from the owner of the store we worked at. #i always thought he'd go doing 190 on his bike down the road... not like this #we have literally like. cried together in the store over shit. #look its just really weird ok #delete later? maybe? who knows #this fucking year man

[kittycathat]

Shuffle on repeat trend, but not

except its my AURORA only playlist, which is pretty much my on repeat playlist atp

except not tagging people / wasn't tagged because i dont have friends /hj

except im doing more than 10 because its tumblr, i get to ramble

open under cut bc its a long post, lots of images lol

1.

"I know I'm just a girl, but can I change lives?" literally big inspo right here,, i love this song sm

2.

such a catchy song,, but its not a bad thing bc i love it (plays in my head on repeat while running. partially against my will. but its ok)

3.

recently discovered this song is about being queer so i love it even more ahaha also the music video is fire

4.

i like this song but not as much as the others yk? but its still rlly cool and spooky. i have no idea what the lyrics are or waht they mean and want to look them up but also i think its fun to interpret stuff ur own way

5.

recent addition, I don't know this song very well yet tbh. but its rlly pretty <33

6.

i love the live versions of this on yt,, would highly recommend! also have no idea the lyrics/meaning for this one but thats. ok

7.

"Im tired of the rules and your corrections" "if i'm not pure, i guess that i'm too much" "the television lies and now my mind hurts" bro this song has so many lyrics that are just gems

8.

<333 IM AROMANTIC BUT THIS SONG IS GONNA MAKE ME ALLO I SWEAR /j

9.

"are you awake or are you sleeping?" i have listened to this song while falling asleep. so i guess i was both?

10.

"you are the victim, the victim of my love" this song is fire <33 and the music video?? its so cool asjdhflaskd

11.

"it fills my heart up and it breaks me at the very same time" IS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL LISTENING TO THIS SONG <333 its so pretty im dying (also its crazy its been 3+ weeks since it came out?? bc like how did time go that fast)

12.

just added this song to my playlist i dont know it well at all tbh

13.

same with this, saw it while watching a concert recording so i just. threw it into my playlist.

14.

"father, dont blame us for trying to live" very cool religious references very very cool song

15.

Pretty good song, a lil bit overused (imo) but thats ok.

16.

"let love conquer your mind" as a person who believes in kindness myself, i love this aaa

17.

<3333 the live recordings of this song are soo pretty! pls go look it up on yt right now akldsjfhal the "cinematic dream" and "simulated dream" lyrics itch my brain so good aa

18.

"And i was running far away, would I run off the world some day?" this song is RIGHTFULLY aurora's most popular song. like come on ofc everyone likes it /gen

19.

has helped me multiple times getting through math class, from being stuck in my head. ily aurora for writing this lol (also the music video <33)

20.

"do you miss the sadness when it's gone?" i used to think this song was ehh but it's grown on me sm lol

anyways tysm for reading my rambling have a good day

#aurora #aurora aksnes #music #lgbtqia #warriors and weirdos

[temporarymoods]

mwah

scatch what i said on that last post. idk her. im CHILLINGGGGG!!!

MarMon today: yes I celebrated. you gotta. duh. Patriot's Day-- a Mass thing!? Hilarious.

We went to the race and yelled and screamed and cheered on at various points. Walked a bunch. Got sunburnt in that shallow way, but my nose is pink. It was pretty emotional! So proud of everyone. Kept thinking that this is kind of one of the best things humanity can do. Anyway-- B)

Got sambas, lmfao?! Trying to look like a boy. Followed by some really good pasta. and then trying to look like a girl. i went to a frat! for the first time! i got champagne on my sambas. christened. the person who clocked me as queer at the party said "christened" after i had minutes prior. yeah. a good thing

- - i know the gender thing of it is ridiculous but for some reason my soft complicated body craves that sexual weirdness between men and women and particularly these young men and women in that..disgusting atmosphere. a disgusting atmosphere. really hungry for that generalization.. it's true. im really attracted to men

other than that^ being tough,

i went DANCINGGG!!!!!1!1!11!!11!!

and I LOVED IT SO MUCH!!!!111!1

What a GREAT night!!! i can't put into words how amazing i feel even though that is why i came here...shucks. has the moment past? did i spend too much time on the queue?

My foot is sore as I type this. I came home so inspired and read up on country swing vs other kinds (I knew jazz swing was the thing, and swing dancin aint line dancin !) then i listened to a lot of good music:

Slow Dancing - Aly & AJ * total classic for me lmao. damn they have the best spotify top 5

Let's Get Married - Bill Elliot Swing Orchestra * when i didn't yet understand that i had to look up **country** swing music. now i know ;) god i cant wait to go again

-- what is it?! i think its that i really love to dance, to move my body, to try and get it right, to improve? to be good? to have fun in a choreographed way. to conform. the do the correct thing. idk

here's what i think its really about: i think i like smootheness. and i like the click of a phenomenon you can't pull a word for. and short counts. and intention. and shape. mostly shape. beat, sure, too. i like beat. i like rising to it, and not tiring. i dont know how i get so obsessed. i need to go back. that was exactly what ive been looking for for months, and what i thought i found but only got in part in the club, which i go to for the dancing, the loud music, the blindingness. but i dont contribute there. my ears are filled but the sound can only vibrate me a little. im not, swung, literally. and i cant provide energy to the space like you can witcha boots awn. so yeah, i think thats really it. dancing. i fucking love dancing. ive always fucking loved dancing. for real! really! i never got that good, yeah. but i fucking loved it thats for sure. i always wanted someone to actually teach me shit. they didnt do that enough in theatre. maybe they did. maybe i just wasnt that talented. not now though. dead. fucking. ass. just input my entire work calendar that i have access to because this shits getting real my life is mine and theres fan fucking tastic things to be doing with it.

alright...i could continue...i'll pick up the rest in my dairy ;* not gonna get too personal, phew. uhm. eh hem.

That Don't Impress Me Much - Shania Twain

Tequila - Dan + Shay

End of Beginning - Djo * lmao i got on this because i saw some interview w him online as im jamminggugghh i got sucked in. then all this happened:

Change - Djo * so much better than the one blowin up btw

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) - Eurythmics, etc * i looked up more songs like Change :| hahaha. then all this happened:

Lifetime - Yves Tumor

Pop Song - Perfume Genius

Here Comes the Rain Again - Eurythmics, etc

Here Comes Your Man - Pixies

Eye in the Wall - Perfume Genius

Boys - Amen Dunes * at this point my original mission is fucked. the intention's gone. i'm so far from where i started: country lovin

at the same time the joint i rolled before we went out and shared on the way home is getting its way through my system for sure. its approaching 2am, woah! full day tomorrow but not nearly as inspired at this one. this one's literally how you're supposed to live . well maybe beer not getting stolen at the bar mmmm. mhm. yeah i'll tack that on as well.

i didnt, dont, want to let go of tonight skrrreorgihveouhv!!!! uuuummm! yeah i should keep thinking about it. : ) : ) hehehehehe

Man! I Feel Like a Woman! - Shania Twain

<3 , so much ;)

Kate

#AAAAHAHAHAHA #YKTR #name of the blog bitch #cuntcuntcuntcunt