#it feels stupid but yeah. i suck at being a friend or a human | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojonanami · 2 months

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❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞

❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞

✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader

✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika

✧ wc: 4,916

Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said.

‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it.

Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside.

Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat:

Don’t do this, girl.

Another message.

What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience

What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record.

Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with.

You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong.

All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies.

You needed better friends.

So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy.

You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera.

Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it.

“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid?

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,”

The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears.

“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them.

Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends.

But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling.

You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out.

“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again.

You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back.

He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach.

Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you.

Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out.��

“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine.

“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut.

He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you.

“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?”

You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“

“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,”

His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?”

Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin.

You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,”

“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“

Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin.

He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure.

“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands.

“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,”

“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,”

You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“

“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,”

“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards.

“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that.

Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need.

“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer.

“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,”

He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands?

“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder.

Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,”

His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in.

~~~

“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you.

“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt.

“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips.

Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock.

His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt.

“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,”

You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it.

His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs.

His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth.

“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face.

“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it.

“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down.

But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another.

“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment.

But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?”

And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”

“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,”

And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there.

Or rather, when you get there.

~~~

“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature.

And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long.

“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”

You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb.

“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,”

And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,”

Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,”

It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom.

The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh.

“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go.

And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had.

Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt.

“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”

And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again.

“Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do.

He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss.

And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips.

He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark.

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms.

No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now.

The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.”

✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.

✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy

#sab [mlist]#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fanfiction #ryomen sukuna fanfiction

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joonipertree · 2 months

Text

Sano Manjiro, the most frustrating man to have a crush on

You learnt that Mikey punched a guy who asked you out. Mikey refuses to explain why. Both of you are dumbasses.

Tags: fluff, stupid shit, getting together, friends to lovers, fem bodied reader, smut at the end, it's him just eating you out sjsns, slight Dom/sub undertones because I can't help myself

Mikey was a dumbass.

In every sense of the word, he was a short fucking dumbass with a deep melodic voice and great hair. The biggest dumbass in the world. You wanted to punch him in the face and kiss him at the same time. Genuinely, you couldn’t stand that man. In no way could you imagine him ever being a good boyfriend. He’d suck at it-----

“Oi, Sano Manjiro.”

The man in question turned, face dead and eyebrow twitching.

“What?”

“Did you beat up the guy?

“I beat up a lot of guys.”

“The guy who asked me out.”

Mikey sat back with his palms on the ground and Toman jacket secured on his back. His hair had gotten long, a bit too long for his liking and he still hadn’t decided how to cut it. You’d already taken the liberty over the last few weeks to tie them in pigtails and braid them to your heart’s content. He’d just walk around like that without batting an eye.

“Yeah, he went out with one hit. You could do better.”

“Do you know who you are? The fuck. That could have killed him.”

“He isn’t in the hospital or anything.”

You turned around, not being able to take a look at your friend anymore than you needed to. Everyone around you stared with either pity or annoyance. Sanzu, Emma and Ken-chin were utterly done with Mikey’s dumbassery and Chifuyu was done with yours. Baji and Kazutora were done with both of you. They just always choose the stupid people as friends.

“You weren’t gonna say ‘yes’ were you?”

And you weren’t. The boy had very bravely confessed his feelings for you (unlike some people) and before you could even tell him your answer, he’d told you to think about it at least. You’d appreciated it and left at that, already planning on saying no.

“Maybe I was, what’s it to you?”

“Oh my god,” Emma muttered out in agony.

"Maybe you should nurse him back to health then."

"Yeah I was already planning on it."

No you were not.

You left with an emphasis on your steps, back straight and eyes hard because you were stubborn. You didn't care if Mikey won at being the most stubborn person in the block, you would beat him at his own game.

♡

"You know he likes you. He has for years. He knows you like him. Just fuck already." Chifuyu moaned out, having gotten over the shoujo vibes very quickly after seeing the slow burn drag out.

"I dunno what you're talking about."

You wanted to deny it. Not deny that you were in love with Mikey but deny he was in love with you. Because admitting it meant hoping for something to happen and false hope got you hurt. People got close, they saw you in your humanity and ran away. The only people you trusted not to leave were your friends, Mikey included.

"Oh come on. I have given you a powerpoint presentation and a whole binder worth of evidence that Mikey likes you. I nearly got wiped out by Draken for taking one too many pictures."

You snorted. Chifuyu being a romantic buffoon with an overeager imagination made it harder for you to accept it. But you did acknowledge, not with the binder full of pictures and 'receipts', that Mikey had a soft spot for you.

You got close at 17, Mikey being an extroverted loud mouth and you being a shy but curious introvert. He took you on bike rides, talked to you while making eye contact, held your hand and pulled you next to him and you fed him bites of your food and let him sleep on your lap.

But you wanted to argue that….Mikey was just friendly like that.

It had been a few years before you noticed that Mikey rarely made eye contact with people while talking but always asked for your attention. You both were hopeless and were just waiting for the other one to confess. It was getting painful.

Chifuyu's eyes shifting to the side made you alert because he wasn't good at acting. And when he got up and ran, you knew who came inside.

"Hi, Captain! Bye, Captain!"

Mikey sat in front of you, dark bottomless eyes staring into your soul. You looked back at him, still pissed that he punched a perfectly nice guy. He then eyed your sundae and you immediately pulled it closer to you. He needed to learn that actions had consequences and that you weren't weak for him.

With a pout, Mikey placed his chin on his arms, splayed out on the table. It made you aware how broad he was, fingers nimble and boney and angular.

Pretty. Always so pretty.

"How's your boyfriend doing?"

Your teeth clicked and with a roll of your eyes, you established that Mikey needed to get pushed off a cliff somewhere.

"So you aren't gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Mikey drawled out, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

"Why you punched an innocent dude."

"He pissed me off."

"Why?"

"Did you say yes?"

"Answer me first."

"I did."

You glared, taking a petty bite of your ice cream in retaliation. Mikey glared back harder, only changing when he looked out the corner of his eyes. You were about to turn your head before he spoke up again.

"It was an accident."

Your snort was loud and unattractive, hiding your face to try and compose yourself. When you looked up,Mikey's face had softened.

"I don't believe you."

"It's the truth. Answer my question."

You debated your options. Because maybe saying that 'yeah I want to date him' would be going too far considering it would be a lie. But admitting that you didn't meant even more probing questions. Like why you were annoyed at Mikey for punching someone you didn't wanna date.

"Why do you care?" You retaliated like a dumbass.

"You're pissing me off."

"Good."

There was another pause. Mikey's hand moving to steal your bowl. You swerve it away from him with no chance of winning with his reflexes and the limited space. So your hand went to grab his wrist.

Your heart raced at immediate contact. You became all too aware of him. Aware of his delicate wrist, the muscle, the bone that jutted out, the blue veins against pale skin. You became aware of his reddened and bruised knuckles, his calluses and ripped cuticles. They were hands of a delinquent, that liked to grip things too tight and didn't mind rough surfaces and reveled in strenuous activity. They were big too, too big against your own hand and too rough for your soft skin.

And they were warm, soaking into you to leave a lasting impression.

Mikey let go of the bowl in favor of holding your arm, gentle and all encompassing. His thumb rubbed against your skin, causing goosebumps to form and a shiver to run down your spine.

"I was fighting with Takemitchy. The dude got caught in the crossfire. My hand landed on his face by accident. I can show you Mitchy as proof. He still looks run down. Even I took a few hits."

You saw. Saw the scratches on his face and the redness of his jaw. It made you want to chide him for not bandaging himself. But he always liked it when you did it. Your eyes couldn't meet his, staring at your fingers wrapped around his wrist and his thumb rubbing your skin.

"You need to stop fighting in public settings."

"It wasn't that bad. A tire or two got thrown around but that's about it."

"Where did you--- not gonna ask."

Mikey giggled, soft and gravelly. You were reminded that the years changed his voice in a way that was still his. There was a pause and you realised the question eating away at you wouldn't go away until you asked it. The secret you kept wouldn't help being hidden away. You were tired and just wanted him.

"You know……I talked to the guy today. Went to meet him."

Mikey's eyes instantly hardened, looking away with a click of his tongue.

"Ah, did he tell you I knocked his brains out? You shouldn't date a liar."

"No," you tried to keep your voice casual, "he told me that it hurt but you weren't even looking at him when it happened. He just got too close."

"Then why did you ask---"

"He apologised though, said he didn't know I had a boyfriend."

Mikey’s lips tugged upwards, turning his head to the side so he could catch his composure. And you were ready to slap the shit out of him.

“Huh, I don’t know what gave him that impression. We must look good together.”

“I feel like you saying ‘that’s for asking my girl out’ after you hit him might’ve done the trick.”

Mikey held his hands up in surrender, knees knocking against yours almost to tease.

"I didn't hit him, I just repurposed the accident. Didn't want it to go to waste."

"Manjiro."

"What?"

"I'm not yours."

"Since when?"

"Since always!!"

His eyebrows furrowed, leaning back with a huge frown like you'd just told him his house burnt down.

"What the fuck?"

"You can't just make me yours without asking me first, asshat."

"Everyone knows you're mine."

"I dont."

Mikey took your hand, lips on the back of it as if it was a normal part of his day. But your breath hitched and you froze. Because oh---

"I found you first."

Your palms slammed against the table.

"If you wanna kiss me so bad then do it on my mouth, you coward---"

And within the next second, Manjiro’s mouth crashed into yours. It nearly knocked you back, if it wasn’t for his hand at the back of your head, curling into your hair. You whimpered against him, his lips tugging into a satisfied smirk.

Chifuyu had yelled out, “Fucking finally!!”

The sound of your lips parting away from each other was enough to make you want to lean back in. Your lips weren’t willing to move even an inch away from him. He tasted good. Like vanilla. And he had trouble keeping himself away from you as well, leaving chaste kisses on the corners of your mouth, fingers keeping your chin lifted up.

A throat was cleared, your cheeks instantly burned with the realisation of where you were. Mikey glared at the waiter who just let him know that it was time to leave. And with fingers interlocked, Mikey pulled you away from the diner, sticking out his tongue to Ken-chin who sighed in relief and leaned against Emma.

You got on his bike without question, heart racing because oh god--

The door to his room slammed open and he barely paid attention to anything with his arm around you. You giggled as he lifted you up and swirled you inside with a flourish. Once the door was shut, his laughter was loud and warm as his lips crashed into you, hungry for more. And you let him lead you, combing your hand through his hair causing him to shiver.

Mikey hugged you close, gentle in his touch and you let him swallow you whole and envelop you. When his tongue prodded against your lip, you parted them easily as if he didn’t even have to ask. And oh, he felt good.

But Mikey will spend the rest of your lives telling you that you were the best feeling in the world.

“Mine.” Manjiro murmured out, sucking on your lower lip so harshly that your whole body did a visceral shudder.

You were breathing hard when you parted, eyes hazy but daring as you looked your best friend in the eye.

“You still haven’t asked me, asshat.”

Manjiro growled, eyes narrowed and twitching. Your head and body threw itself back as you burst out laughing, feeling free because you knew Mikey’s arm would never let you fall. That led your neck to be exposed to the littering kisses Manjiro gave out of vengeance.

You squealed as it tickled and felt your knees give out against the bed beneath you. He’d backed you up, without you noticing, like a predator cornering its prey for a meal well earned.

You felt yourself sink into the soft mattress, hand reached out to tug his shirt down towards you. Manjiro just stared at you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you didn’t understand and a grin so wide you could see all his teeth.

“Mine, in every timeline.” Mikey whispered.

And your breath hitched, speaking out without a second thought.

“Yours, in every universe.”

Manjiro’s eyes watered and he finally enveloped you, body a welcomed weight as he kissed you in slow languid bliss.

“Good baby,” he whispered and you whined out.

You pawed at him, liking the praise a little too much. Manjiro’s kisses left a wet hot trail as he went from your chin to your cheek. A wet sound heard every time his lips disconnected from you. You let him have his way, feeling his hand pat the side of your head.

You wanted to kiss him back but every time you tried, he clicked his tongue in disapproval and you just laid there as he poured his love into you. You had begun to tear up because Manjiro's love was overwhelming and it was for you.

Your eyes closed as his lips met your eyelids, tasting the salty tears and pulling back to inspect your face. You mewled at the lost contact, opening your eyes and pouting.

Oh, how dare he

He hushed you, hand patting your head again, lips continuing their venture on your face.

Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. And both of you became aware of the effect the intimacy had on you.

Manjiro pressed into you, hips solid and confident. And you felt his bulge against your pussy, only his pants and your underwear in the way. it was enough to drive you insane.

You yearned and yearned and begged with pretty fluttery eyes that had him breathless.

“Yeah? You wan’ me, honey?”

And despite the embarrassment, you nodded with the biggest pout you could muster. And Manjiro melted just at that, ready to burn the world for you if you asked him to. In another timeline, he probably had.

“Haven’t even been dating for a minute and you're already so needy.”

He didn’t even let you blubber out a complaint before your underwear was exposed to him. And you craved him so badly that your legs made space for only Manjiro. He appreciated it, boney fingers squeezing your hips before imprinting the memory of the wet patch into his mind.

Oh you were so sweet. A type of pliable that was only given to those you trusted.

“Not allowed to hide anything, okay?”

And with that, his nose traced the outline of your pussy, tongue peaking out for a taste that just wasn’t enough for you. Your thighs squished against his cheeks and he groaned, pressing his full mouth onto you. Your hips jutted upwards, a cry weak and wobbly escaping your lips. And with effort, you spoke.

“Stop teasing, jerk.”

The warmth was too much, you could feel him right there but the cotton was in the way. Despite your protest, he lapped you up out of greed. And your hands clutched onto his hair.

“If there’s nothing between us, I won’t be sane.” You heard him say and it just made you needier.

“Don’ want you to be. Please.”

And with that, his hand ripped your panties out of the way. Manjiro took a second to stare in awe at your pretty pussy. It was so wet, begging him to eat it out, practically drooling. Many thoughts went through his head.

How it would feel to be inside you, how warm it would be, if he could last long in the tightness? If he'd ever be able to survive without the taste of your pussy after this moment? If he gave your cunt a smack, would you like it?

Manjiro decided that keeping you waiting was the worst thing he could possibly do.

Mikey was a lot more hungry than he thought he was. Your pussy was engulfed in his mouth.

The direct contact was enough to make him moan. Your own got stuck in your throat, not realising how overwhelming it would be. When his tongue prodded inside, you let him guide your legs against your chest so that he could have more access. And then it plunged inside and you let out a warbled moan that felt too loud in your own ears. With a hand covering your mouth, you tried to suppress the little sounds tumbling out of you.

Manjiro’s middle finger tapped against the plush of your thigh and he pulled away with effort to say:

“No hiding. Be good.”

You cried out, flexing your fingers in his hair as he went back to the task at hand. And you let yourself voice out the feeling, soft “ah, ah, ah”s filling the air and causing you to tear up in embarrassment.

“Wan’ to be-be good for you.”

“Mhmmm,” He answered with the vibration of his hum shooting through your pussy and into your back that arched almost painfully.

The orgasm came out of nowhere, crashing into you the second Manjiro’s mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked.

You didn’t even care how loud you were being, brain wiping out everything it had as your body arched and twitched. Manjiro only stopped lapping your cum when you flinched away, kissing your inner thigh before moving to you for a kiss.

You let him inside your mouth easily, whimpering and pawing at his shoulder as you held him close. You shook in his embrace, muttering out weak and tiny ‘thank you’s that had him chuckling at you.

“Did your Manjiro make you feel good, bubba?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, kissing the corner of his lips in appreciation.

#mikey x reader #tokyorev headcanons #mikey headcanon #mikey x you #tokyo manji gang #tokyo rev fluff #mikey imagines #tokyo rev x you #mikey sano x reader #mikey x reader smut #mikey smut #mikey fluff #manjiro x reader #manjiro sano x reader #sano manjiro x reader #tokrev smut #tokrev x reader

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lizzieisright · 3 months

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Trust exercises

Abby, your friend, helps you with some of your therapy homework (just fluff, no smut)

-/-/-/-/-/-

It doesn't happen often, but sometimes before your scheduled meetings (since two adults need to schedule hangouts) you go to therapy, which means you come to Abby's place after therapy.

Sometimes you're happy, sometimes you're sad, sometimes you don't come at all, and Abby understands.

When she first met you, she thought you were the most kind, sunny human being - you were so nice to her, and Abby couldn't help but try to spend more time with you. You gladly let her and soon you two were practically inseparable - Abby trusted you, shared her worries and fears, even the stupid ones, and you supported her through it all. You were soft and kind to her, and you told her the stories of your past which made her cry. This is why Abby didn't notice that you didn't share anything from your present, not anything deeper than a complaint about work.

Abby knew you were in therapy - who wasn't in this economy? - and she thought you were so nice because you were healing. But during one of your shared evenings in Abby's apartment you both got drunk, very drunk, and you spilled something.

"Do you know why I'm in therapy?"

"Because your childhood sucked and your parents can eat shit for that?"

"Well, yeah." You laugh. "I have like, major trust issues."

"You?" Abby stared at you, even though she saw two of you by now. "Really?"

"Yeah." You nodded and even if Abby was super drunk, she noticed how your voice was strained.

"Fuck." Abby sighed, not really having a better response in this state of mind. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"So I can regret it later? No."

It stuck with Abby later, and she couldn't let it slide, so she talked to you about it. You were very reluctant about sharing what are your triggers, but the fact that you told her some things was already groundbreaking. (I won't ever ask for any help and I hate when people baby me, you told her, and it meant that when she bought you coffee you got literally offended - which led to another "you need to tell me if I hurt you because it's unfair" conversation, which led back to "If I could trust you, I would")

So Abby started getting more gentle with you - it rarely worked, but you always reassured her she wasn't the problem, which broke her heart even more.

But slowly, even through you shot her some weird looks when she took care of you in any way, you started to accept it. You started talking to her little by little, and Abby was happy - even if it was "holy fuck I cried me eyes out last night, kill me please" message. You shared some of your feelings, and Abby couldn't help the protectiveness she felt about you. You were so nice and kind to everyone and you were so lonely and broken inside it made Abby angry at anyone who made you feel like this. So she tried to give you everything she was able to.

One day you came from therapy, eyes red and puffy, your face empty and you just asked if Abby could cuddle you. Abby felt like she won life this day - won a glimpse of your trust.

So today you came after therapy as well, grumpy as fuck, which looked cute on you - Abby couldn't help her adoring gaze when she looked at you, even if you gave her a weird look now and then. It wasn't agressive, but Abby knew you struggled to accept she loved you for who you are, even though that was something you desperately needed.

"I have fucking homework." You told her and Abby laughed: you hated when your therapist gave you homework, since it was embarassing and you wanted to throw up.

"What is it?" Abby asked as she heated some food for you: which was also a struggle for you, accepting her care, but you were trying your best. These small things were just a trial before bigger things, and you promised to at least handle this for now.

"Fuckin' trust exercises." You sighed and rolled your eyes, but Abby saw through you: you wanted to do it, wanted to see there was someone you could trust. "You know this shit when you fall back and someone catches you? Disgusting."

Abby laughed and placed the plate in front of you, nodding when you said thank you.

"It's scary."

"It fuckin' is. And I don't want to do it." You grumped and Abby waited. "I mean I do, but I'll hate every second of it. Anyway, the point of this is, will you do it with me?"

Abby saw how it physically disgusted you to say it, and she knew it was your reaction to being vulnerable, so she just smiled: you hated being vulnerable, but she couldn't express how much it meant to her that you chose her to be vulnerable with.

"Of course."

"You don't have to, obviously-" Here you go again, Abby thought.

"I want to. I don't go to gym for nothing, I won't let you fall." Abby flexed her biceps and you got flustered.

You both knew you liked each other, and you flirted all the time, but Abby didn't rush you: you couldn't handle her heating the food for you, you were not ready to be in a relationship by any means. So Abby was waiting for you, calm and sure one day she will get to kiss you and you will accept her love.

"Thank you."

"And don't you fucking dare to do something nice for me in return, I'll kill you."

"...Fine."

You look so uncomfortable with the whole idea, but Abby knows you'll push through anyway - you are a masochist like that. So you stand in the middle of her living room, Abby is relaxed and just waits for you to go through your conflicting emotions.

"I'll catch you, I promise."

"I know that. It's not what worries me." You tell her as you fidget with your fingers. "It's so fucking scary."

"Well, you're not here alone. I'll hold you after."

You struggle again with accepting this, but you don't reject her - every time when this happens Abby feels proud and happy: you are trying to trust her.

"Okay, can we like. Start with smaller distance? I don't think I'll be able to do the whole metre."

"Of course."

You stand awkwardly with your back to Abby, barely twenty centimeters away from her - if Abby leans down, she will be able to put her head on your shoulder. So this is not even the fall exercise, you're going to lean on her.

"Holy fuck." You curse. "Okay."

You're so tense and anxious even like this, and Abby stretches her arms by your sides, letting you see she is supporting you. So you slowly lean back until you feel your back touch Abby's front. She is solid and warm, and she hugs you, holds you, and it's almost too much, and you want to cry. Abby is safe and Abby loves you and really, it's too much.

"I've got you." Abby tells somewhere in your hair and you break. You sob quietly and move away: it's unbearable. "Too much?"

You nod, not ready to talk and embarrass yourself.

"Do you want me to be quiet?"

You shake your hand yes and no, and Abby understands.

"Okay. Want to try again?"

You nod again and go a little further: if Abby doesn't catch you, you will fall, but not painfully. Again, her arms are stretched out and you take a deep breath before letting yourself fall back - the air gets stuck in your lungs from a millisecondary fear, but then you feel solid warm Abby who chuckles into your ear, but keeps quiet, even though she wants to tell you how proud of you she is - and you feel saved. It's strange, but the relief you feel is visceral and you want to cling to Abby's arms around you.

"Okay." You sigh, the anxiety leaves your body as adrenalin gets replaced with dopamin. "Okay, I get it."

"m?"

"Like. I'm so scared when I fall, but because you catch me, I instantly feel safe. What kind of pavlovian shit is this?"

"Are you suggesting we train you into trusting me by doing this every day?"

"It might work. I wanna do it again."

And then you get giddy and giggle when Abby catches you for the seventh time, the dopamin doing its job. Abby is happy to help, especially since she gets to hold you and be there for you and lets you see you are safe with her. It's a long way down the road, but eventually you'll get there, and you will trust her.

Abby can't wait.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #written on a knee #can you tell i have issues #and that I didn't do this therapy homework and most likely won't ever do it

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andreabandrea · 11 days

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i think all the time about how hard it is to be a kid even in the best case scenarios. like yeah as a kid you have very few responsibilities and youre innocent etc but i think the thing is that adults (at least in the USA) largely do not consider you to be a human.

i remember when i was a kid, my parents were nice to me and supportive and so on-- i didnt have a bad childhood. but there were times where my dad would just take things from me, or interrupt me on the computer/tv, not because i had exceeded screen time or anything but just because "im the dad and im more important so i can do what i want". i remember how powerless i felt when adults would shout at me, especially if it was over something i didnt understand and/or hadnt been taught.

i remember adults laughing in my face sometimes when i was crying or upset, and i think about this when i see those 'toddler/kid freakout' tiktok videos mocking a child's reaction, even if it is for something "stupid" like they dropped their candy or whatever.

even the most well-meaning adults will often write off your pain and negative emotions as 'overreactions', and this goes triple if youre neurodivergent. i had pneumonia as a child and my doctor thought i was just being dramatic.

your input on things is largely seen as worthless. if your parents want to travel the country in a van, but you want to go to school and have friends and have your own bedroom, they'll just pack you up and take you in that van because you're the child and you're their property. i think about this when i see those 'van life' families, and i think about this as i'm reading the Wavewalker book about the girl who was forced to live on her parents' boat with little to no schooling for 10 years.

if your parents spank you and hit you, largely thats seen as their "choice" as parents, no matter how many studies tell them it traumatizes children. and youre dependent on the adults around you and if those adults suck, or if youre in a bad situation, you have very little to no ability to change that and you just have to endure.

and thats what drives me insane about desantis is that we see more and more rhetoric like "the rights of parents" and "protecting children" but these kids are being told that they do not have rights. its as if people truly believe parents deserve to know everything, even if the child doesnt feel safe telling them. people think parents deserve to control their kids' every choice and every move. but when it comes to protecting kids from gun violence and protecting gay/trans kids and especially kids of color, republicans could not give less of a shit. hell, even the grand majority of democrats barely care.

yes, i get it. parenting is unimaginably hard. the nuclear family is unsustainable especially in today's double-income-not-even-making-rent economy. the world is fucked up. sometimes kids are shitty and it might hurt you as an adult. but kids are not evil, and kids are not adults who are acting with fully developed brains and social skills and empathy and so on and its important to keep that in mind.

on the chance that anyone wants to reply with "well i hate kids :/" look. you dont have to be a parent. but at least be kind to children in your life. let the kid in the park ramble to you about skibidi toilet or fucking whatever. you do owe people kindness, especially children

#bandrea blabbers

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cyberels · 5 months

Text

IT WILL COME BACK

PLEASE GOD LISTEN TO IT WILL COME BACK BY HOZIER IT MAKES THE FIC BETTER GOD BLESS

(my requests are on btw plsss send fic ideas pleaseee)

PART TWO HERE CUZ MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ADD IT my bad

summary: ellie hates one night stands, while you couldn’t care less. she barely manages to catch your name before you’re pulled away from her. she makes it her goal to find you again.

warnings: NSFW, MDNI!!!, drinking, language

(i am a whore for subby!ellie so that’s all i wrote in this fic, it’s all e!receiving)

wc: 2.4k

a/n: okay i so lied about the other fic it’s not done yet so take this one instead lol it’s my first time writing smut in years so… please be patient if it’s not good i will improve eventually 🙏 (i didn’t proofread this, sorry if it sucks LOL)

my masterlist

divider credit to benkeibear :)

The music's overwhelming, and you're certain your hearing's screwed, if it wasn’t already. The lights flash, illuminating the room and all the people in it. You'd been told this was just a small get together, so why are there so many people here? who goes all out for a fucking get together?

you stick to the corner of the room, sipping your drink occasionally while you pretend to scroll through your phone to look casual. originally, your plan was to stay home and study for finals, but you agreed to go because your friend had promised she'd be with you the whole time.

“come onnnnn, don’t be lame. just fuck someone and have a good time, you’ve been studying for like yearsssss.” your friend pleaded. somehow she was already drunk.

“i’m not really in the mood for a hookup—“

“liar, your ass was swiping through tinder not even 30 minutes ago.” she grins at you, “look, let’s just go to the party, yeah? have a good time and shit, get fucked up… maybe get fucked, you feel me?”

“you’re stupid and i hate you.”

“you love me.”

…unfortunately for you, your friend's plan to stick with you only lasted about 15 minutes before she saw her old fling and disappeared up the stairs with them, so you're on your own now. great.

screw it. might as well have some fun, too. you push yourself off the wall, discarding your empty cup on some random shelf, and immediately going to grab another drink to replace it. you look around, maybe a hookup wouldn’t be so bad?

you never believed in divine timing, but you lock eyes with a girl that’s sitting on the couch across from you right when you decide to find someone to fuck. you can’t bring yourself to look away; you’re too dumbfounded that there’s a girl here that’s literally the human embodiment of your type.

the girl smiles back at you, also not breaking eye contact. she beckoned for you to sit down on the couch next to her.

ellie was never the type for one night stands, if she was gonna fuck someone, she’d want them back for more later. but there was just something about the way your outfit hugged your body that made her not care at the moment.

ellies previous situationship had gotten a girlfriend without warning, so needless to say she was in the market for someone else to take her spot. when she saw you and the way you were looking at her like she was the only girl at this stupid party, she figured you were just as desperate for sex as she was right now.

you carry your shot of don julio back as you flop onto the seat across from the girl. you quickly take the shot, being unable to stop the cringe on your face as the alcohol burns your throat. real smooth, she’s definitely gonna wanna fuck you now—

“can’t handle your tequila?” she teased, leaning closer to you so she was able to be heard over the music.

“shut up, i can’t help that it tastes like fucking nail polish remover.”

ellie laughs at your response, and you swear you’ve never heard something so fucking cute before in your life. you try to play it cool, but the way she’s looking at you is making you practically drool. you tense as you unintentionally conjure up a mental image of her hands up your shirt, her lips on your skin, her fingers in your—

“at least it gets the job done.”

you blink a few times, her voice ripping you from your fantasy, “yeah, it does. ‘specially don julio, that shits like a hundred bucks a bottle.”

“and it’s worth every fucking penny, dude.”

you hadn’t expected to be fantasizing about some random girl fucking you, but… here you were. maybe it’s the tequila, or the few drinks you had beforehand, but you decided you absolutely needed this girl despite only speaking two goddamn sentences to her.

your eyes fall to the hallway, moving towards an empty bedroom door, and then back to the girl. you never were a fan of small talk, anyways.

ellie’s breath catches when she follows your gaze to the bedroom. she had been hoping for a distraction from the party, and she was just as eager for you as you were for her.

“wanna go talk in there?” you smiled, nodding towards the room. “it’s quieter.”

the girl grins back, not bothering to answer, just getting up and grabbing your hand, leading you into the bedroom.

usually you’d try to learn her name first, or at least learn more about her, but not tonight, not with her. you needed her as quickly as possible.

you barely let her lock the door before you push her roughly onto the bed, a mischievous smile spreading across your face as you move your body to straddle hers. “you sure you wanna do this?”

“yeah, i’m sure.”

“perfect. gonna be good and let me take control?”

ellie's eyes widened. she’s not normally the submissive type, but… tonight was a different game, and you were hot, so she simply nodded in response as you moved to press kisses into her neck.

you shake your head, pulling away from her for a moment, “nuh uh, not a good enough answer. use your words.”

“mmh— i’ll be good, i’ll let you take care of me.” ellie chokes out, heat pooling between her legs already, and all she wants is to grab your hand and shove it down her pants.

“perfect, good girl.” you coo, rolling your hips and dragging your crotch over hers, your jeans colliding with her sweatpants. your movements are slow and deliberate, you know exactly what you’re doing.

you brush your lips over hers, but you don’t kiss her, instead you move to the side of her face, leaving a trail of kisses across her jawline.

ellie whimpers, “teasin’ me.”

you laugh in response, “maybe i am, pretty girl. you’re gonna have to prove you deserve it before i give you more.”

the noises she made in response go directly to your clit, and if you weren’t having so much fun teasing the girl, you’d be touching yourself right about now.

the other girl grabbed the hem of your shirt, forcing your lips against hers. you moan into the kiss, tangling your hands in her hair and pulling slightly.

ellies so enamored that she doesn’t even realize your knee slipped between her thighs, and she instinctively pulls away as you press your knee further into her, “fuck, ah— s’good, baby.”

you grin, moving your knee up and down slowly, “you like that?”

“yeah, i fucking— shit, baby, fuck—“

you barely give ellie the opportunity to speak before you replace your knee with your hand.

you trail your kisses down to the hem of her pants, smiling up at her, “this alright?”

“fuck yeah it is.”

you giggle, continuing to move your hand slowly against the other girls clothed slit as you place more kisses onto her thigh.

after a moment, you pull back and tug on her pants, “need these off of you.”

you know you sound desperate, but you don’t care.

ellies cunt aches at the absence of your touch, so she quickly obliges, leaving just her boxers on, “take yours off too, babe, please. wanna see you.”

you want to deny her and play your game a little longer, but there's something about the way she’s looking at you, eyes watery and half-lidded, that makes it impossible to say no, “only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

soon enough, both of you were left in just your underwear and bra, and you thank god you wore a cute set tonight. the only regret you have is not bringing your strap, because god do you want to get this girl pregnant.

“so fucking hot.” you say, moving back so you could see her whole body. you move your hand to trace along her tattoo, and you smile at her, “you’re so fucking pretty.”

ellie whimpers again, and she moves your hand back to her throbbing clit, “more.”

“m’not done admiring you.” you say, “you can wait a little while longer.”

you lean closer to her again, pushing her bra back slightly and sucking on the skin, leaving small red marks across her chest.

at this point, ellie is certain she cannot wait any longer, her legs squeezing together to try and get some friction. “mmh, can’t wait baby, need you now. please— fuck, oh my god— please, baby.”

you push her legs back open, giggling, “you’re so cute when you’re needy. stop moving, m’gonna take care of you eventually.”

your move so your head is in between the other girls thighs, and you place gentle kisses on the girls legs, leaving more red marks every now and again.

“fuck, please touch me, you’re killing me— you can’t do this to me. fuck.”

you grin, you hand hovering over the girls crotch now, just barely touching her, “you’re such a little slut for me, aren’t you? you don’t even know my name and you’re still begging me for more.”

ellie presses your hand down further into herself, she’s getting tired of waiting, “god, babe— please, i need it. please baby, i’m bein’ good, please.”

you bite your lip to stifle a moan, “so fucking hot when you beg.”

your hand moves to her clit, and you rub small circles into her. you’re moving painfully slow, but you can’t let her win just yet, you like hearing her whimper. “so wet already, pretty girl. you’re turning into my bitch, huh?”

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t wet too, and the sounds of ellies moans aren’t helping your case, but ellie doesn’t need to know that right now.

ellie goes to say something in response, but you don’t give her the chance, you speed up your movements, and she whines pathetically into the pillow she has pressed up against her face.

“not— not fair.” she whimpers, “fuck, faster— m’ gonna—“

“not yet.” you say, stopping what you were doing and tugging off her boxers. you’re certain you know the answer, but you ask again, “this alright?”

“mhm.” ellie replies, biting her lip, she can’t bring herself to say anything more. she wants this so bad.

you discard her boxers on the floor, and then bring your head in between her thighs again, “want you to cum in my mouth.”

ellie nods eagerly, and once again moves to press your face into her cunt. she forgets she’s in public for a second, unable to hold back her moans. she’s lucky the music's loud, because god she felt like she was going crazy with how good it felt.

you lick a stripe into her already sopping wet slit, and after a minute, you get to work. the second you stop teasing her, it only takes a few seconds for her to cum all over your face.

the noises she makes as she finishes make it hard for you to focus on anything else, your own clit begging for her touch, but before you do anything else, there’s a bang on the door.

you can’t hear exactly what the person outside is saying, but you’re able to hear one word, cops.

well, fuck, at least the other girl got to finish. you’d definitely be taking care of yourself once you got home.

“shit, i’m sorry.“ the girl starts, grabbing your clothes and throwing them towards you before putting hers on, “usually i wouldn’t just—“

“it’s fine.” you insist, “i’m just glad i got to make you feel good.”

ellie could die, right there on the spot. you look so fucking hot, and right now she was yearning to return the favor and make you feel good, too. “what’s your name?”

you smile and tell her, and then start to ask for hers, but you’re interrupted by the banging starting again. you grab her hand once you both are clothed, and run out of the house.

it didn’t take long before your friend spotted you, pulling you away from the girl and into the uber she called.

“dude, who the fuck would call the cops? it wasn’t that loud of a party— uh, dude, your shirts on backwards.”

“my wh—“ you look down, and sure enough, it is on backwards. that's…. embarrassing. “oh, well, um—“

“—no way! you— with who?! i thought you said you weren’t in the mood for that? you’re such a liar!”

“i don’t know her name.” you admit, brushing your hands through your hair, “wish i did. the cops got called before i could… y’know.”

you didn’t want to say anything further, deciding to spare the poor uber driver of knowing the details of your sex life.

“maybe you’ll find her again, it’s not that big of a town.”

“maybe. but it’s no big deal if i don’t. i don’t normally keep track of my hookups.”

“yeah, but usually you get to finish, too.” she counters.

“it’s whatever, i don’t mind.” you shrugged, and it was the truth. you had toys at home that would satisfy you enough, you’d just use them.

and that’s exactly what you did when you got home.

you turned on the shower and cleaned yourself up when you were done. usually your hookups don’t stick with you like this, but this girl was just so damn hot, and the way she begged— god. you figure you should probably think of something else, because you’re gonna make a mess of yourself again if you keep going like this.

when you hopped into bed, you still couldn’t get the image of her out of your head. this… wasn’t normal for you.

you even fucking dreamt of her that night, and you cursed at yourself once you woke up, because now you were aching for her touch once more.

stupid, you think, i’m so stupid. can’t get attached, don’t even know her name.

luckily enough for you, you don’t have to worry about that much longer. when you open your phone, there’s a dm waiting for you.

…how the fuck?

#max writes ☆#ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #the last of us #wlw smut #wlw #tlou #Spotify

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deathmetalangel · 1 year

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Hii! I’m literally carving smuts in these days, and I just finished Wednesday!!

I was thinking about a bsf to lovers, where reader and tyler have to hide from his dad because the reader is an outcast and they have to hide and sexual tension, or maybe the reader goes to the cafe during tyler’s night shift!!

Btw, have a good day xx

-anon 🍃

DO I MAKE YOU NERVOUS? (TYLER GALPIN X GN!READER)

warnings: sexual tension, age gaps (they're a ghost so), oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex, no implied afab or amab genitals for reader, creampie, l word, tyler almost transforming, mentions of death

tyler galpin has many secrets, his biggest isn’t the monster in his closet, it’s how stupid his closest ghost friend makes him

two requests in once since two people asked for tyler galpin smut teehee

A normie and an outcast? Who would've thought the two could even be friends. Especially between a lifeless ghost and and the son of the town Sheriff who was wary of the Nevermore students. Y/n was easily Nevermore's longest resident, but throughout their years at the academy they had never enjoyed their time quite like they did now.

That was thanks to Tyler Galpin. The 'human' boy had somehow charmed the young spirit. For a soul forced to damnation the current life they lived was surprisingly enjoyable. Even now, when they had to hide in Tyler's room whenever his dad barged in to speak with him about some random chore or another trivial topic.

Y/n waits until the coast is clear to appearate again. "Sorry about him, my dads just been on edge. With everything happening in town and all you know." Tyler apologizes for the constant intrusions.

"It's nothing really. I think of it as a way of practicing my spectral abilities more. So, thanks for the practice." Y/n smiles at the awkward boy. Of course they already knew his secrets, not that he was aware though. "So what movie were you going to show me?"

"Oh! Yeah, lemme grab it." Tyler rushes to his closet to find the dvd. Who still uses dvds? "I wanted you to watch American Psycho since you haven't seen it, which is still weird to me but whatever." Y/n watches him start up the movie while they float towards his bed and take a seat.

Tyler smiles and sits down next to y/n. While their eyes were fixated on the movie he kept glancing back at them, he was so desperate for their approval. Would they like the movie? Or think it was dumb? Think he was dumb? What if they hated him? His body tenses up when their hand lands next to his thigh.

It wasn't the temperature of their skin, it was how close they were to touching him. He glances back again, his eyes studying every feature on their face. It was almost impossible for him not too. Y/n seemed to notice the attention on them when they look back and see Tyler staring 'inconspicuously'. "You seen the movie too many times?"

Tyler's face turns red from being caught. "Uh, no I actually really like the movie. I just wanted to see if you were enjoying it." His lie was apparent, but y/n really didn't mind.

"Yeah I am. It's pretty good, although Im pretty impartial to 90s movies since, you know, that's when I died. The Craft was a good one." They smile at how nervous Tyler was getting. So, they slyly move their hand on top of his thigh. "What, you don't like that movie?"

He clears this throat awkwardly. "No no. I like that movie, a lot actually. It's really good."

"Are you just not feeling movies? We can do something else if you want, just say the word." He was freaking out at the implication. Were they just being a tease, or was y/n really implying something else.

Y/n smiles and slowly presses their body towards Tyler, like they were waiting for an answer. "We can do whatever you want to do, I have my xbox or-" His breath hitches when both of their hands are placed on his upper thighs. "Just pick," He mumbles trying and hoping that his blood doesn't all rush to his eager dick.

"That's all you want to do? Or I can suck your-" Tyler quickly covers their mouth when he hears loud footsteps coming upstairs. His heart was practically beating out of his chest until they faded away meaning his dad went back downstairs. "Oh yeah, I gotta be as quiet as a mouse." It was obvious y/n enjoyed teasing him.

Especially when they glanced down at the hard on that was prominently shown through his jeans. "What's the magic word Ty?"

"Please." He whispers partially out of breath from the tension he was experiencing. Y/n smiles while they promptly undo his belt and loosen his jeans. His dick was straining in his boxers, a sight to behold.

His breath catches in his throat when their hand begins to make contact with his aching cock. "You're quite a big boy aren't you?" He can't even respond when their chilled fingers rub against his tip that was exuding precum. "Ty, do I make you nervous?" He looks down at the ghost whose face was positioned right next to his dick.

"Very much so."

They just giggle. "Good." Y/n licks a stripe up against his shaft making him throw his head back. Their hand was fixed at the base of his dick while they gently kissed his tip. "I wanna know how you taste," He can feel himself being eveloped by their mouth. Tyler bites back the breathy moans that want to leave his lips. Their other hand gently grabs ahold of his balls making him almost audibly moan.

It was getting hard for him to hold back. Especially when he felt his dick start to reach into their throat. "Fuck..." He bites his tongue to no avail. Y/n let’s him go and smiles at his mewling beneath them.

“Shhh. We gotta be quiet. Besides, we haven’t even got to the best part.” His eyes widened when they pushed him back onto his mattress. “Plus, I wouldn’t be the one getting caught with my dick out.” They giggle before dropping their bottoms and sliding their legs out of their underwear.

Climbing up on the bed y/n was basically straddling Tyler. They slip two finger into their mouth before rubbing them around and into their opening. “You ready?” They could see just how eager he was. It was funny, Tyler was acting like a freshman that hadn’t even got their dick touched.

Y/n moves slow when they line themselves up, their heart almost beating in sync with his. Tyler grabs at his sheets when he feels his dick start to enter them. Curses string from his mouth while he tries to keep quiet. When he feels himself bottom out. “You feel so fucking good.”

“So I’ve been told.” Y/n begins to rock their hips steadily, while Tyler is desperate to pick up the pace. He bucks upwards when he feels their walls clench around him. They had his dick in a vice grip and he couldn’t he happier.

Y/n lays flat on Tyler’s chest burying their head into the crook of his neck. Their breath fans his face while they continue to move sensually. It was almost like something snapped in Tyler, y/n had expected it, but not this soon.

He can feel his resolve slipping when he grabs onto y/n’s hips. A quick yelp leaves them at the sudden touch. Tyler starts to rock their hips more, each thrust of his concerningly hardening cock sending their mind into overdrive. “Fuck Tyler, don’t stop. Please.” They grabbed onto his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.

Y/n was seeing stars with the way Tyler was thrusting. Both of their bodies were on fire and the upcoming highs. And they can’t help but gasp feeling the growing claws start to scrape across their semi-translucent skin. They had never felt more alive. Well, they did before they died but yeah.

Tyler doesn’t quit, he keeps on bucking his hips and bringing their hips down to match his unrelenting pace. Desperate to reach his peak and bring them with him. Y/n wanted to scream at the pleasure that was building. Like a damn about to bust, they bite down on their lip trying to contain their excitement. “Tyler I’m gonna cum, please faster, faster.”

Like a good little Hyde his pace seemed almost superhuman now. Tyler fought back his near transformation when the tension in his body snapped. He slammed their hips down again causing the euphoria to take over like a tsunami.

Y/n covers their mouth while they cum around his throbbing dick. They squeeze him for all he’s worth before y/n completely goes limp in his arms. “Fuck,” They mumble almost incoherently at the orgasm. Tyler pants when he pulls out, cum spilling from their aching hole. They shiver at the loss.

Tyler rolls over and lays y/n down gently, any hint of his previous self washed away with his euphoric state. “Shit, I should’ve been more gentle. Just lay down. I’ll take care of you.” Y/n yawns softly before nodding. Curling into his warmth while he took care of the rest.

The most warmth they’d felt in a while, and it was about to be the best sleep in a while as well. Their post nut haze can’t even get them to here the words that leave his mouth next. “I think I love you.”

#deathmetalangel #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x you #wednesday #wednesday tyler #wednesday smut #wednesday imagine

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parentsday · 17 days

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Hiii! Since you asked about headcanons/analysis stuff:

There's a common interpretation on the fandom about Max's treatment of David in the early episodes coming, at least partially, from trust issues regarding adults/authority figures. And I've seen push back against it, too. People who say it's just because David is annoyingly positive. Nothing else.

And sure, I can see that. But Nikki also acts in a cheerful manner and mostly enjoys camp, and Max doesn't treat her with the level of rudeness he treated David in season one. This could be due to her being his little partner in crime, but idk. I always interpreted it as him thinking that David is some fake nice adult who will just let him down if he allows it.

And, while I was thinking about this, I realized how this interpretation of Max's behaviour towards David adds another heartbreaking layer to Parents day.

Max's perception of David started changing after Order of the sparrow, specifically after the "Somebody fucking has to" moment. For just a moment, the annoying, overly positive persona drops, and Max is able to see a nuanced human being. And it's clear that he starts understanding David a little more, because in Cult camp (literally the next episode), he allows himself to be brainwashed and trusts that David will save the camp (btw, we as a fandom don’t talk about this aspect of this episode enough).

So yeah, his perception of David changes for the better.

But then, parents day happens.

And David spends most of the episode being an absolute jerk, even if he doesn't realize it.

He pushes SO HARD to try and make the day perfect, basically ignores Max when he states that his parents aren't coming, gets way too serious about playing the role of Max's dad for the day, forces Max into the activities and then, at the end of a day that was already shitty for Max, he yells at him.

I think the context of Max's opinion on David finnaly becoming more positive makes this episode so much sadder.

Because it ceases to be just about Max's neglectful parents.

Now it's also about the closest thing he has to a trustworthy adult making him uncomfortable, ignoring his feelings and then yelling at him and telling him that he "has a bad attitude" and "brings everyone else down instead of trying just a little bit to have fun".

(Which are things he must have heard from adults before, if he behaves the way he does at camp in school and other places)

Remember in Friends like these when he said "Life's just one dissapointment after another. I can't belive I let myself forget it"? I think he might have had the same train of thought here: "I can't believe I let myself forget David is an asshole that only cares about impressing Campbell and making this stupid camp look good". Or: "I can't believe I let myself forget that every single adult thinks I'm a bad kid and a lost cause."

And I know it gets fixed quickly, with David apologizing shortly after, but still. I think the idea of Max being dissapointed at David in Parents day, even if it was just for some moments, is so good.

I also think this is the episode that comfirms to Max that David is genuinely a good person trying his best. He spent the entire day having to think about the fact that his parents suck, and then there's David, who is kind, apologizes for upsetting him and takes him to eat pizza and have a little heartfelt talk.

When was the last time his parents apologized to him, or cared about what he wanted/needed, or talked to him so gently?

The contrast between his parents and David is so big, and I think that's what makes Max finnaly go "Yeah, this guy isn't actually that bad."

(Sorry for rambling, omg.)

hi first of all thank u for an ask and such insightful one at it too !! this was an incredibly pleasant read and a lot of the stuff you say i personally find very good analysis of the show and agree with, however i do have some stuff to say abt it soo here we go ^-^ (this will be a long one so sorry about this in advance)

as i said in some previous reply, max is an incredibly peculiar guy when it comes to the way this show treats his trauma and the way he himself behaves as a result of it, and that’s by design! a lot of the thing he says and does in the first two seasons when it comes to david are there for reasons of narrative set up, and are later masterfully recontextualized by parents day later, leaving very little room for interpretation when it comes to how and why he operates. im gonna go out on a limb and say that i don’t think it’s a stretch to assume that most of his actions towards david in the early show stem from the childish born-from-trauma need for attention and also from his need for societal reinforcement of his own ego’s right to exist. when it comes to the first one i see most people agree (bc it’s a basic child psychology fact), but turn their noses in reference to the second one.

contrary to popular belief, max being in need of constant affirmation that he, as a person with little self value, deserves to exist next to other people is something that we see examples of constantly and is not a terrible part of his character that needs to be ignored. max is a neglect victim who from our knowledge is given very little attention by his parents, as a result of it he is a pessimistic asshole kid whose ego suffers from the very thing that made it this way. its in his strained relationship with nikki and neil, its in him arguing with david to put himself in the position of an adult, its him putting himself above others when it’s not needed and its in him putting his own egos safety first when time comes to accept that things are moving forward (two final episodes from both s3 and s4 are good examples of this). its not an inherently positive trait, but it is one okay for him to have by the virtue of being a young abused child with no support system, and denying it will leave him devoid of this characterization. in freudian (ugh) terms, we cannot separate his character’s superego from his id in a way that won’t harm the way he was intentionally written. Id, ego and superego are all influenced by our relationship with our parents, the amount of nurturing of a child's emotional and psychological needs parents does will result in the child’s psychological state forming a certain way, max as a character who is heavily reliant of his lackluster relationship with his parents is not devoid of this and it affects his relationship with david too. and the reason i’m saying all of this is exactly due to this.

david, when put in most simple terms, is a character who’s an adult figure present and mature enough in max’s current social position that it allows him to treat max as a child, something max is not used to. not used to to such an extent that it puts a strain on his ego in the process. david feeds his need for any form of attention, positive or not, just as much as he clips away at max’s need to be seen as socially important and in a position of an adult. it’s arguable if both of these are good or not but the main thing they are in relation to is obvious: max feels that being an adult who meets both of his psychological needs in ways that are unfamiliar to him makes david an untrustworthy person, thats exactly where you interpretation comes in clutch.

max and his behavior towards david cannot be separated from david being an adult, that is made clear with the way he treats nikki as an equal just because she is a person his age, despite her sharing a lot of david’s traits. going through the episodes you mentioned, order of the sparrow episode lets max see david perspective for the very first time. max is allowed to peek into the reason why david acts the way he does, however it alone doesn’t make him see david in a good light, if anything it makes him appear genuine in his actions. it also lets max have something for david that he didn’t have before: trust. it ends up being used in cult camp as a confirmation of it being something david can live up to (you are absolutely right, we really don’t talk abt this episode and it’s narrative weight enough). all of this has been adding onto the way max himself perceives david, parents day, however, lets both of them internalize the sentiment of mutual understanding towards each other together. parents day does this by lampshading max and david parallelism, making this whole episode consist of max seeing his parents in david just as much as david sees himself in max through the whole show and putting them in each others shoes by the end of it. the episode ends with david choosing max as a priority, he is still acting selfishly (once again david is an asshole) but choosing to do so towards max because the situation allows him to understand max the way s1 finale let max understand him. and with the final turning point in their dynamic, max understands that both his ego and need for attention can exist without them being reinforced by an adult treating him like he is an adult too. max was chosen as a priority for the very first time and that alone made him feel of more value than the treatment he initially yearned for would have. above all else parents day makes max see david as someone he can look up to as a person in emotional way, not only in a life or death situations, the shot of david from his perspective in the end making sure that we don’t miss it.

most of this is not me disagreeing with you, on the opposite i think a lot of the arguments you make are nice and are mindful interaction with the media. gold star for enjoying meta analysis to both of us i guess ⭐️. my main problem is, however, the fact that using all of this to basically say ‘maxs parents suck so he has a distain for david because of it’ is a heavy oversimplification that you somehow go against in your initial statement too and that i, personally, just don’t enjoy. this alone does not make your interpretation wrong though, if anything just reinforces your general idea into a more concrete argument rather than a collection of bits and pieces of evidence pointing to it. hope all of this made sense

tldr; man idk no summing up this one as to not take away from the overall statement im making with this. read the post 🫶

#camp camp meta analysis #camp camp #this is looooong sorry op im a yapper at heart #this ask made me pace around in a break room like a crazy person hope u are happy 😒 <- slash positive #i didn’t talk a lot abt the post parents day stuff u mentioned simply bc idk what to add onto it u hit that one on the head lol #allowed myself to dadvid out here a little hope u don’t mind #also im so fucking sorry i mentioned freud again this man is the shit sometimes send the flood #max cc #david cc #dadvid #in a way

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catgirlforeskin · 2 months

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Actually, I want to talk about this more.

I think that people really overpay how bad politically "online" and 4chan and such are. Not because 4chan is good (it is very bigoted), but in my experience while imageboards are very loosely moderated*, and it allows them to spread some graphic shit, they are not interdimensional aliens. Sure, I didn't see photos of bestiality anywhere else, but I saw and see all the same prejudices in "normie" groups, in comments under movie torrents, in news media, I hear them on the streets and from my relatives. And it doesn't just happen, it's like the norm (not so much in official news, thank fuck, but mainstream TV is still guilty).

After Trump all imageboards into more or less interconnected system of fascist propaganda, sure, but the foundation wasn't that different, in my opinion. Society just sucks because of capitalism and due to the fact that most of pre-capitalist heritage is even worse.

Something similar is true for Reddit. It does suck, but also everyone uses it, even worldwide. The fact that it is like that is not because of redditors, but because this is the face of (mostly white American) middle class society.

This may sound too anti-communist of me, but I feel so angry when people say "actually bigotry is just a thing that online loners do, most people are actually nice". No! People are not nice, people are the ones who do all of this bigotry! It is not 4chan that makes people use racial slurs, it is not twitter that brainwashes women into being housewives, it is not Reddit that covers up rapists, it is not TikTok that makes people crave fascist dict6. It is your neighbors, your friends, you! And me, and all of us here. It's not "human nature", but it's our reality. Society is very flawed, and since society is not a deity but only a network of people, all of us are flawed, all of us are monsters even. Attributing every societal ill to "terminally online neckbeards" is just placing all of your crimes on convenient scapegoats.

This is not defense of 4channers or redditors, they suck, but it's so stupid to pretend that they are just not children of your society, not even that different from you

100% agree, yeah, I hate the tendency for people to project societal ills onto an Other so they don’t have to think about their own complicity in it. We see it in Stranger Danger and the creation of The Predator as opposed to the reality of most abuse coming from people you know and have structural power over you (parents, bosses, etc).

We see it all the time in the transmisogynist harassment campaigns on here, where we’ll see trans women get called “literal rapists” for doing cnc play with their girlfriends when we (at least used to) understand that Rape Culture is a thing and it’s omnipresent in society, or trans women promote “literal incest” for calling their girlfriends big sis or whatever when the most popular porn category everywhere for the last decade has been incest crap.

There’s easily a hundred other things I could list but the point is obvious, I mean shit it applies with the law too, there’s so many things that are part of the dominant culture and everyone has a hand in, but punishment is only inflicted on the subaltern

#asks

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 11 months

Note

6 angst pls!!!!!

OK, so there 5 more asks of this same combo so I'm just gonna count them all as this one:)

Being on Harry's management team was mostly wonderful and a very positive experience so far. He was so kind, honest, direct, hard-working, receptive, and trusting. This conglomeration of traits made him a dream to work with. He hardly ever gave you any trouble, but he was human so of course, he made mistakes and bad judgement calls, but he was never one to come up with some elaborate scheme to distract from those things. He'd fix the issue with whoever had been involved and move on, he didn't feel a need to defend himself to the press or the public when they had nothing to do with his private problems. No twitter-storms for him and that made the management team's job pretty easy.

But just because Harry was a mellow and level-headed guy it didn't make him exempt from the old rumor mill. People just found any excuse to be nasty. And like any normal person, Harry had things going on in his personal life that sometimes just made him more sensitive or susceptible to feeling low. Like now... someone he had been seeing exclusively for a few months apparently hadn't granted him the same courtesy. A friend of his in London saw her kissing someone else and well...he didn't take it too well and out of frustration, he drunkenly kissed the next willing person and well...that backfired on him. And now the person he'd been seeing was telling everyone that he had cheated on her. Harry was really angry with that.

He knew that he couldn't control other people, but he just wished that the people he let into his life would just take a moment to think. Thankfully no one was really believing that he had been seeing this clout-chasing chick, but it still hurt his feelings. He had let her in to his life. He had slept with her, he had taken her on dates, he had told her things about himself...he felt betrayed and for some reason this particular time it was just taking a lot longer for him to bounce back.

In session, his writing was reflecting his evident frustration and he was being quite petty. This was personal and he hated that he was stooping to that level. He felt immature and incapable of handling what he was feeling and it was ridiculous.

"This is so fucking stupid..." he groaned into his hands. You'd watched this chaos unfold for long enough, so you decided to step in.

"Guys, I think it's a good time to take a little break. Get some lunch...take a walk..." she said to the others in the room.

"Yeah, good call." Harry mumbled and people started getting up to leave and as Harry stood from his seat and started walking out behind Mitch you called out to him.

"Not you, Harry!" you called after him and he patted Mitch on the back and said a couple things to him before Mitch gave him a thumbs up and headed off. Harry came back over to his previous seat as you stood at the control panel, just looking around. You were the newest addition to him team, hired on just shy of a year ago. You'd mostly been handling contracts though and he'd been touring and releasing films so you hadn't really had a lot of face-time with him. And he didn't know you as well as he knew the rest of his team, they'd been friends even before they managed him. So you got that you were new and that he was a bit unsure around you, but you just wanted to make sure he was OK.

"Look, I know that we've basically wasted the morning and that we're gonna need to pay for another day-"

"Harry, I don't care about that, I'll book another day out if you want it, no problem." you assured him, "I just wanted to make sure that you're OK." you said and his expression changed to a more relaxed one.

"Oh." he said and you offered him a slight and sympathetic smile.

"Yeah. I know it's been rough and I know that we don't know each other that well, but if you're not feeling this kind of work right now you don't have to do this." you explained and he smiled a bit.

"I know I've sucked today, but to the point where my own manager would rather I not do a writing session?" he asked and you chuckled.

"Can I be candid with you?" you asked and he nodded firmly, "I really like your music. And I'm not just saying that, it's heavily featured on a few of my playlists," you explained and he smiled, "And while I realize that some of the best work can come from painful or angry places, you're currently giving... Taylor Swift circa 2008-2009." you said and he literally burst out laughing and you chuckled softly at his reaction.

"Some might argue that those were her golden years." he said after he settled down.

"I'm not saying it's bad, but what I mean to say is she was a teenager then and it...shows. And not that you can't behave like a teenager as an adult... everyone's journey is different!" you defended and he chuckled, "But I know that's not you. And I just feel like you're just really frustrated with everything you're going through and it's not coming out right because you're kind of trying to force yourself to push through your hurt with this process." you said and he bit his lip sadly for a moment before he sighed.

"Look I'm just...feeling really hopeless right now. And you're absolutely right, that's not me." he shook his head as he looked in your eyes. "I feel so foreign to my own mind....like, when did it even know how to think that way?" he said and you nodded, "I mean...I can't accept to believe that things will never work out. That I'll never get a chance at a normal relationship again. That everyone in my life has an ulterior motive...but I'm starting to, Y/N." he said with so much hurt in his eyes, they were glossy from the tears forming and you just reached out and he grabbed your hand.

You didn't have any words to say to him. You had no idea what it felt like to be him. Anyone would think he'd have it easy, but it was harder than it was easier most of the time. You just wanted him to know that you heard him and that you were there with him, that's it. Your thumb ran over his knuckles in a comforting gesture and suddenly his tears startled to fall and he inhaled sharply as he tried to hold back his sob and you frowned when he just decided to let it out. You stood immediately and hugged him against your chest. His head was resting right over your heart and you just held his head with one hand and lightly scratched his back with the other. After a few minutes he'd calmed but made no move to get out of your hold. You understood, sometimes you just needed to be held.

"I'm sorry, I didn't plan to lay all that on you." he said quietly and smiled.

"It' don't mind it. It's why I'm here." you said and he let go of you and leaned back as he looked at you looking a bit perplexed.

"What you're here for?" he asked with some hurt in his voice and then you shook your head.

"Oh, not like as part of my job, Harry!" you explained quickly, "I mean like here here. Like on planet earth. As a human being I'm here to share experiences and relate with other human beings. To learn to care for each other and help each other..." you said and he nodded and then smiled slightly.

"Right...I was about to say, after everything I've just told you?" he chuckled lightly now and you did too as you place a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, sorry for the misunderstanding." you shook your head in a little embarrassment, "So did that help? Just...letting it out?" you asked him and he nodded.

"Yeah, I feel a bit better." he said.

"A bit is more than nothing." you said with a smile, taking the win and he nodded. "So, would you like to keep trying here or would you like to call it a day?" you asked him and he sighed and looked into your eyes.

"I think we should call it a day." he concluded.

"OK, I'll let the guys know." you said with a small smile and headed out to the food lounge. After you told them the new you chit-chatted for a bit before saying goodbye. You hummed happily as you considered the possibilities for the rest of your day... grab your things, pick up a nice bottle of wine, call your nail lady and to see if she could squeeze you in for a pedi? As you came back into the studio you that Harry had his things packed on the floor beside him while he sat on the arm of the couch. He glanced up when he heard you come in and you smiled, "Hey H, sorry if I kept you waiting, I got to talking. Did you need something else from me?" you asked.

"I'm gonna ask you something and it's gonna sound awful, but I promise I mean it in the most not awful way-"

"Harry, just ask." you interrupted him with a chuckle and he nodded.

"Right. Ummm...w-would you like to spend the night at mine?" he asked you and you looked at him skeptically.

"Like....for....?"

"Not sex!" he said right away and then shook his head, "Not because you're a person I wouldn't want to have sex with. Like I would if I had to. Like...last people on earth type of thing. But well, that sounds like I'd do it with you just because I had no other choice. Which I mean, I would still probably have sex with you given a choice, you know?" he finished his ramble and you just decided to not even go there.

"OK...so not for sex. So then for what?" you asked him.

"Just to be with someone. We could play board games or watch movies or tv...ummm, I'm pretty sure I've got everything I'd need to make banana bread... we could do that. Or just talk and listen to music? We can do whatever I just don't want to be alone." he admitted softly.

"Harry...I really want to, but I also work for you and I... just don't want to blur the boundaries too much." you explained.

"You literally just told me this is why you're here." he appealed to her, "I'm friends with Jeff and Tommy...why couldn't I be friends with you?" he asked and you smiled at him.

"You're not exactly asking a crazy question..." you said and he smiled lightly at you. "Fine. But I'm gonna go home and pack a bag. When I arrive I hope to smell some banana bread in the oven." you said and he smiled.

"Deal." he said and you nodded. He reached for your bag on the coffee table and handed it over and you smiled and thanked him as you walked down the hall. "Gonna go say good bye to the lads."

"Yeah, you go ahead." you assured him and he made his way down the other hall, "H!" you called after him and he glanced back, "You're gonna be OK. I promise." you said and he smiled before you waved and headed back to your car.

READ MORE PICTURE PROMPT BLURBS HERE!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry x you #harry styles x you #harry styles reader insert #harry reader insert #picture prompts 2 #0nlythrowharrybeaux

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littlerosette · 2 months

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Going through 2010s fan fiction is a minefield because half the time I’ll see authors notes where it’s very “ yeah I’m here for Peeta being an angel and Katniss is terrible”. And I’m here like you can’t write their dynamic correctly if you don’t see that Peeta is a little shit and that Katniss literally worships him in her mind and from when she realized he didn’t want to kill her to the hijacking, she was really nice to him and enjoyed being friends with him. She’s just stupid about emotions

My fun fact from rereading the books is that by counting length of time Peeta is the one who acts more moody towards her than she does to him. She’ll get snippy once in a while but he’s the one who initiates being cold and not talking to each other after the games and also the one who goes full Career after the Quell.

people are wayyyyyyy meaner to katniss than they rightly should be because of their sympathy for peeta. for one, i find that the outrage has to be based— in some part— to some level of misogyny because we expect women to treat men better than they treat women, and when they don’t, they’re crucified. think of how people treat skyler white or carmela soprano in comparison to their literal murdering, drug dealing, sociopathic husbands. a woman’s worse crime is to be uncomfortably human, with all of its implied anger and frustrations.

katniss is an uncomfortably human character. she’s moody and fiery and nasty and occasionally selfish. she’s also capable of great kindness and compassion. there were several points when i was reading where i wanted to be mad at her (like when peeta got hijacked) before i reminded myself that. yeah. what peeta is going through sucks. he also just strangled her so maybe she’s entitled to her anger😭 i feel like a lot of our perception of her is tied up in her self-loathing. it’s easier to see katniss as the “meaner” one because she sees herself as the “mean” one. mind you, this was a girl who took time out of her day to teach bonnie and twill how to hunt and gave them all her food because she was worried they wouldn’t survive. katniss is a wonderful person.

i wouldn’t say that peeta is moodier than her. i think peeta was entitled to his frustration after the first games to a certain extent. keep in mind he’s a teenage boy, so it’s inevitable that he’s gonna act like a sadsack after learning katniss’s feelings for him aren’t as clear cut as he wants them to be. but i do think he’s emotionally perceptive enough to have picked up that she was falling for him in the games, which is why he’s so shocked to learn that it was an act. katniss, though, is too emotionally stunted to realize that she was falling for him too which is why everything goes to shit between them for a while. to be fair to peeta, he was the first one to apologize and seek to repair the friendship. he was able to understand that he put an unfair burden on her when she was just trying to keep them both alive.

don’t take this to mean that i think he’s perfect!! peeta is a people-pleaser to the extreme, so i think a Lot of his easy going nature in the first two books has to do with that. peeta in mj (though hijacked) is probably him with his worst flaws bared. he’s violent and insecure and jealous and mean, and for once, he and katniss can see each other more honestly. he obviously would have never hurt her if he wasn’t hijacked, but i do think everything we see of him (minus the attempted killing of katniss) was him, just his ugliest bits.

all in all, people are too mean to katniss. people are too dismissive of peeta’s issues. and they are perfect for each other.

#asks #everlark

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famousfilmsfan · 5 months

Text

Petty Bryan.

Remember when Freddy stole Bryans room key saying ‘Finders keepers’ well

Bryan: *has his violin* Hey Freddy

Freddy: Bryan why do you have my violin?

Bryan: Well you said finders keepers and I found this so i’m keeping it

Freddy: But it’s mine

Bryan: So are those keys, give those back and i’ll give this back

Freddy: No.

Bryan: Okay. *begins to play it badly*

Freddy: Agh! Stop!

Bryan: No.

Bonnie: You’re seeing another therapist?!

Bryan: yeah? Have a problem? I thought you wanted me to see one

Bonnie: Well uh..

Bryan: Are you upset because you wanted control over that? To listen in and gossip about me behind my back?

Bonnie; Well, a little

Bryan; And you wanted Linda because she agreed with your ludicrous decision to act like I can't make my own choices?

Bonnie: I-

Bryan: No no, This is a hard choice, trust my own thoughts and feelings. Or Bonnies crack judgements and human hating micro aggressions. Hard choice.

Bonnie: Well who are you seeing?

Bryan: I’m not telling, because you’ll call them, bribe them or fire them while pretending to be me. Like you’ve done several times

Lefty: Hey Bryan why don't we ever meet your human friends?

Bryan:….You have met them. I don't bring them around because they hate you guys

Freddy: What?! Why?

Bryan: You called them Crazy, weird, ugly, cliche, and boring.

Lefty; that's no reason to hate us

Bryan: You also slashed their tires and pepper sprayed one of them

Lefty: he deserved it

Bryan: He said Hi to you then you just did it

Lefty: He said Hi and not hello!

Bryan: So I can't spend My own money. But Helpy can spend stupid amounts of it and you turn a blind eye.

Bonnie: Because you buy stupid stuff and she buys smart stuff

Bryan: We get the same things most of the time.

Bonnie; I can tell the difference between what you buy and her, you buy totally different stuff

Bryan: Oh really? *holds two photos* One of these is a picture of my stuff in storage the other is Helpys stuff. Which is which?

Bonnie:….*points to the left one* .that one is Yours?

Bryan: Wrong! They’re both Helpys.

Bonnie: Dang. Should've known that.

Bonnie: What is going on here?

Bryan: Well I wanted to tell you two things, one this is a new Bonnie

New Bonnie: Hi.

Bryan: And you’re being-

Bonnie: Scrapped?! You horrible fleshbag I hope you die!

Bryan: Transferred to another location Jesus Christ.

Bonnie: Oh.

Bryan: see this is why, you’re toxic, very racist, and your performance to customers is terrible. I mean even when I move to the costume store you’re terrible

Bonnie: What? No I wasnt.

Bryan: You can't imply a customer is doing their husband dressed like SpringBonnie

Bonnie: He was!

Bryan: Of course he was, but you can't say it. Now you’re going to a location in New Jersey.

Bonnie: Why New Jersey?

Bryan: Because New Jersey sucks and I don't like you.

Bonnie:…I can see the logic in that.

#thefamousfilms #fnaf 6 #mcfnafverse #headcanons

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qcomicsy · 1 year

Text

Yo THIS is what I'm talking about new interpretations of Deadpool treating him like a fucking bugs bunny character. Deadpool doesn't just bounce back as if nothing happens, he doesn't "not feel the pain ad lacerations" and he sure as fuck doesn't just stand back watching people fuck with him.

And even more that that? He's not fucking stupid.

Listen I have my problems with the Deadpool (2008) run but this shit compared with the rest he had this last ten years of writing is fucking exasperating.

It doesn't matter how hot or famous, or heroic the person is. Wade does not like being like lied to and he doesn't fucking tolerate being toyed either. Specially after all the shit he's been through.

So tell me, why the fuck, now characters can just walk all over him and the only thing he does is make a bad reference? I'm so sick of this, so, so sick. He's a fucking human being.

Flesh and bone and feelings. And it's so fucking disrespectful after all those years of characterization and shit he's been through, writer's decided to fucking disregard all that that just to make their shitty jokes, that' aren't even funny.

Not only is a from a horrible taste, it doesn't make any goddamn sense. He's a mercenary and a good one, like scarily good. And it's so weird to me how out of nowhere people's just decided he's not dangerous anymore and instead of just being chill around him, this just took as an advantage to treat him like shit. And this is even more maddening when you realize (bad writing or not) he's fucking trying to be better.

I like this part of the run of 2008. Because it's just make sense, of course! The X-Men hates Deadpool. He was literally a guy who was paid to kill them who knows how many times, he's annoying, bitchy and has no respect for any of them, not even mentioning the weird relationship he has with Scott's son and how crossed them more times than the dignity of the whole team should bare. Deadpool had it coming the hate he got from the X-men, hell, and this was them being patient.

Now, even with them hating Wade, the X-Men was being extremely careful. That's the fucking mercenary Deadpool, you don't just give him shit and act like nothing happened. They're annoyed, angry, and hostile and yet not out of the line.

And even so

And I'm not saying I want him to be violent (even though he is still violent but now is just for 'hahaha isn't he craaaazyyy??? 🤪🤪' jokes). Wade has been at war with his violent tendencies since ever and I'm happy too see him kinda overcoming that over the years.

But fucking hell the last issues are fucking pushing it.

I mean what is this?

Look at this shit:

And then he just????

???????

Yeah Sure guys yall just fucking opened my guts up, but now let's just patch up and talk like palls because apparently my nervous system doesn't fucking work.

LOOK AT THIS FUCKIN BULLSHIT

"Hey Jessica" Bitch where's your backbone?

That's Jessica Jones they're not even friends!

This is how Wade reacted to Domino, his actual friend trying to fuck him over.

Like what the fuck happened to him? It's like they don't even consider him fucking human, he dies but doesn't deal with the after match, he has his guts exploded but whatever what is pain? He's going to shook of with a silly joke 🤪, he has no friends, he doesn't get offended, he doesn't get angry, he just there to suck the heroes dick and act like a lost puppy.

I'm fucking done man.

TDLR: Marvel took my man's balls and I want them back

#Deadpool #q rants #q talks comics #I'm legit upset about that holy shit akskksdk #I forgot how pissed off I was about it until I got back into reading him #long post

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h-harleybaby · 1 year

Note

vampire cartman obsessed with randomly marking his gf through out the day 🤭🤭

Omg yesssss

I’m taking this as a sign to give Vamp Cartman hcs because I wanna so bad 👉👈

For the purpose of writing she’s gonna be human because why not

Btw it’s probably gonna be in a different color than normal BECAUSE TUMBLR IS BEING WEIRD AND I CAN’T SEE SHIT

NSFW CONTENT (because I suck and my brain stopped working)

Vampire!Cartman x reader

• You have marks ALL over you because your stupid vampire bf can’t keep his lips to himself. Your friends are super confused too, they keep asking why you have lil dots all over your thighs when you wear shorts. I mean they know why you have bite marks but why’s there dots?? You know why and it’s so embarrassing

• Cartman found it really cute that when he first starting biting you and stuff you would cry or your eyes would water

• IT WAS LIKE, THE CUTEST THING TO HIM! He loved it when you did that (Cough he’s into dacryphilla cough) so ofc when you ya know, stopped doing that he got kinda sad

• I mean you were getting used to the feeling, and it was hot-

• But anyways, he got kinda pissed about it and started biting you harder just to see you cry a bit. He felt kinda bad but meh, you would’ve stopped him if you didn’t like it. He gave up at some point but he did sulk for a while

• I mean Cartman eventually got over it, he can make you cry in different way anyways. And that's good enough for him

• Never letting go of this, you have to pry it out of my cold dead corpse hands. HE LICKS YOUR TEARS AND HE LIVES FOR THE CUTE FACE YOU MAKE WHEN YOU CRY. EVEN IF YOU THINK YOU LOOK UGLY HE SECRELY THINKS ITS CUTE AND HE'LL LITERALLY NEVER TELL YOU

• Now you're gonna question me on this- YOU'RE GONNA QUESTION ME AND THE PERSON WHO GAVE ME THE IDEA, BUT HE LIKES TO EAT YOU OUT ON YOUR PERIOD

• I MEAN BLOOD- AND YOU??? HELL YEAH HE'S GONNA LOVE IT

• Might be a smidge grossed out at first but then he's like "welllllllll-"

• Anyways, he loves teasing you and biting your chest and your thighs. It's like, the best thing ever for him

• Because he's a vampire I guess he's technically undead so- no babies for y'all. WHICH IS KINDA GOOD THAT MEANS HE GETS TO CUM IN YOU ALL HE WANTS AND NO RISK

• Tbh, your blood is the sweetest to him and that's kinda what attracted him to you. Pretty lady and good tasting blood?? Hell yeah

• If you get high a lot expect him too also, bro can just t a s t e the weed in your blood. Dude gets high off your blood and that's just his favorite way to now

• When he gets high off your blood he gets so impossibly horny and he's so desperate. He's willing to sub when he gets like that because just wants you so so bad

• Please for the love of god overstim him he's gonna cry under you and it's so pathetic and adorable ahhhhh

• He probably has vampire strength and man handles you on accident all the time, and YOU FUCKING LOVE IT (kicking my feet while thinking about being man handled because I have problems)

• For a vampire, he really likes biting. And when I say that I don't mean he bites you (I mean yeah but I'm not talking about that rn) he loves being bit it's so weird but he melts when you do

• He's definitely the type just bite you anywhere and everywhere if he's ya know, not gonna be killed for being a vampire

• He probably bites your shoulder all the time because he likes when it's out of nowhere and you make that cute noise you make when you get surprised

#h harleybaby needs help #south park x reader #harley’s anons <33 #south park x reader headcanons #south park x y/n #cartman x reader #eric cartman x reader #mom come get harley she’s rambling #eric cartman x y/n #harley thirsts #harley’s requests!

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dingbatnix · 10 months

Text

Deity

Rest (part 2)

I was vibin hard with some DreamXD is actually Dream, so this kinda just spawned :D

It was supposed to be shorter, but somehow it just...exploded into a very long word monster.

Anyway, have some sketchy reference art for Dream and Karl’s god forms. (pending till when I feel like it ;D)

Oh yeah thanks to @local-squishmallow for proofreading! : )

Word Count: 8,164

Warnings: Alludations to Fatal Vore, Fearplay, Ect. Pretty mild on the violence this time, actually :D

Also, y’know, my autocorrect says that ‘alludations’ isn’t a word. But it also says ‘vore’ isn’t a word, so screw grammar, I make my own words and rules >:}

Dream was trapped in an incredibly boring gathering. Again. For what seemed to be the millionth time for this century, and it was starting to get on his nerves. Dream hated gatherings. Now, don’t get him wrong, he was a people person, and he actually liked catching up with old friends and meeting the newly-formed gods and goddesses, but in a gathering like this, everything was too formal. He didn’t want to be stuck in a stiff, fancy environment with little to no humor and no fun. He couldn’t even crack a joke without breaking some social rule or something equally stupid.

Now, as both the God of the End and the Overworld, he was one of the most powerful gods to exist (below the Gods of Prime, of course.) As such, it was his duty to keep the peace between the others by hosting such events, but Prime, if it wasn't the most dry, soul-sucking kind of event he'd ever had to participate in. He couldn’t even chat with any of his friends because he was stuck at the head of the room in a gilded seat in case anybody needed to speak to him, or if any of the new godlings needed to meet him. It was so boring.

If he could, he’d ditch the gathering and go hang out with the two mortals he had recently befriended, but for one, the Gods of Prime would chew him out for ‘abandoning his ever-so-important post’ at such an big event, and two, if they found out he was in contact with mortals, the humans would be killed, and he would be stripped of his powers and position for interacting with them.

He stretched his secondary pair of wings out absently, iridescent white feathers glittering beautifully in the amber light of the magicked sconces. A few appreciative humms purred through the room, but he didn't much care for what the others thought of his wings. He would love to be flying right now, or even sprinting through the trees in the overworld, but no, he had to stay here and look important. He held down an irritated scoff and leaned back in his fancy, slightly uncomfortable, seat.

One of the other gods, (and Dream knew their name, he definitely did, absolutely) sidled up to his side and snapped their fingers, a small, fancy cage appearing in the air next to them. Dream perked up a little at the sight, knowing what it meant. Usually, whenever this particular god approached someone (they were a courier of sorts, for between the worlds), it meant that the mortals of the overworld or netherworld had sacrificed an animal or another mortal in that god's name.

Dream’s currently nonexistent mouth watered. Sacrifices and offerings, particularly human sacrifices and offerings, were delicious. There wasn’t another taste quite like it, at least, not that anybody had found. Dream greeted the other god warmly and leaned forward in his seat.

"You've been given two mortal sacrifices, End." They murmured, letting the small enclosure drift into two of Dream’s awaiting hands. He quietly thanked the god, who nodded and moved away, then looked down through the bars to inspect the two mortals that he had been offered. Being the God of the Overworld and the End did have its benefits, he supposed.

And there, smack dab in the center of the cage, cowering down against one another, were the two human mortals Dream had befriended. His stomach dropped, and if he didn’t have such an excellent grasp over his appearance, his body would have fizzled out in shock.

They were terrified, that much he could tell from how they were pressed up against each other, tiny eyes darting from the large, gilded gathering hall around them to the mingling mass of inhumanely-shaped gods to Dream himself. The dual-colored eyes of the older mortal, George, the one Dream often gave pretty gifts and anything else he asked for, eyed him suspiciously. The one with dark hair and fiery bright irises, Sapnap, who Dream enjoyed fighting and competing with, glared at everything, a dark, angry scowl plastered over his fanged lips. Their hands were twined together, and they had their backs pressed against one another in a horribly defensive position.

The probability that they knew why they were there was very, very unlikely, as the language of the gods, the one they had all been speaking, was indecipherable to mortals. The most they probably knew was that they had been left at an altar, and were then brought to someplace that was too bright, stuffed in a cage, and given to some random giant creature.

The two wouldn't recognize Dream, of course, not when he was in his true body. The size, for one, would make it impossible for him to be the Dream they knew. The true forms of the gods were always massive in comparison to humans and mortal creatures. It was a difference that Dream had never truly thought about until just now, when he was presently aware of how tiny his two human friends were compared to himself. His fingers were longer than they were tall.

Then the white mask over his face, one with an 'XD' marked delicately onto the surface. It was a small shorthand for who he was, as the End and Overworld god, though the distinction was hardly needed. Anyone who could feel his aura would know who he was. The mask was similar to the one he wore in his human body, but there was no way they would know it was him. That, plus the dual halos that orbited over his head to form a spherical 'X.'

The four arms his body hosted, two to each of his shoulders, separated him further from the supposed ‘mortal’ they knew, and the six great white wings that sprouted out from his shoulder blades, an eye of ender floating near the wrist of each, threw that distinction even further.

Dream had always taken his human form when he visited them out in the overworld, unwilling to reveal his godly status to them lest they grow afraid and leave him, and to shield his own actions from the Gods of Prime. He didn’t want word of his mortal interaction to get back to them, lest he be cast out and his two friends killed.

It was customary to consume human sacrifices when you received them, but Dream didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to kill his two human friends! He valued them too much, he was too close to them. He liked hanging out with them and joking with them, and he liked doing the little chase game the three of them had devised, the one they dubbed ‘Manhunts.’

Dream fluffed up the primary pair of his wings, expertly hiding his discomfort, and frowned. He didn’t want to lose that relationship. Not even to have the ambrosiac treat of a mortal.

There was, of course, a way he could safely consume them, but…but that would be terrifying for them. As a God who had the ability to shapeshift, he could do whatever he wanted with his current body. That meant he could form a safe little pocket within himself, to store them for an indefinite amount of time. The best way to get them there, though, would be to act as though he was actually going to eat them, and he didn’t want to be the cause of such fear and panic that they would surely experience.

He decided to leave the cage floating by his side, planning to discreetly release George and Sapnap back to the overworld once the gathering was over, and hoping that nobody would look too closely at the occupied cage, but not too long after he had received the ‘offerings,’ one of the other gods approached him.

The God of Time neared, eyeing the cage curiously. At least, Dream figured he was looking at the cage. Time wore a blindfold around his eyes, a cool lilac-grey that changed color depending on his emotions, that had a dark lemniscate, the symbol for infinity, stitched into the soft-looking fabric.

Dream muttered a small greeting to Time, who returned it absently. He seemed more focused on the two mortals in the cage than anything else, which worried Dream to no end. What was he wanting…?

“Are you going to…?” Time finally asked, gesturing towards the cage in an obvious question. The two tiny mortals flinched away from his hand. Dream thought fast, knowing it would seem suspicious if he outright refused to eat them.

"I'm not in the mood," He grumbled, leaning against his high-backed seat. "The last sacrifice I had gave me indigestion for days." The other god gave him a small, absent nod, fingers tangling in the multitude of chains, trinkets, and time-keeping instruments strung around his neck and shoulders.

"If you don't want them, I'll take them," the God of Time offered, hidden eyes nearly glued to the two humans as he fidgeted with his bangles and watches.

Dream immediately bristled. Oh hell no! Did he want George and Sapnap for himself? Did he want to eat them for keeps?! Dream knew that Time rarely got sacrifices, as most of the mortals didn’t see him as an actual deity. Dream could sympathize for the other god, but like hell would he give his two fragile human friends to someone else to kill.

A few of the eyes that floated about his wings swiveled to glare at Time, and Dream let a low rumble emanate from his chest. It was too quiet for anyone but himself and Time to hear, which was what Dream wanted. He didn’t need to create a spectacle over this, especially not when George and Sapnap were at risk.

"No. They weren't sacrificed to you, now were they?" Dream grouched, maybe a bit too sharply.

The God of Time averted his gaze and raised his long arms in surrender, splaying his hands out apologetically. One of the many ribbons of golden sand that flowed around his body flickered and twisted strangely under Dream's harsh gaze before stabilizing itself.

“What are you going to do with them, then?” He queried, an odd tone bleeding into his voice. He bit at his lip, seemingly nervous, and shifted his footing.

“I don’t know, feed them to the dragon or something?” Dream flared his secondary wings up in a facsimile of a shrug, feigning indifference. He wouldn’t actually feed them to the ender dragon, but it would be a good excuse for why they had suddenly disappeared, and it would back up his unwillingness to eat them.

“That’s such a waste, though!” Time exclaimed, blindfold shifting colors from lilac to a pale fuchsia. “I’ll gladly take them off your hands, End. You wouldn’t have to make the trip to see the dragon if you gave them to me.” The other god pressed, inching closer to the floating container.

Dream hooked a clawed finger through the cage bars and pulled it away from Time, slightly concerned that the other god would snatch it and bolt. He raised his tertiary wings defensively, leaning forward and staring Time down.

“What if I like visiting the dragon? She always enjoys it when I bring her gifts, and she loves the attention. What is with you, Time? You're not usually like this.” Dream snapped defensively, primary wings fluffing up to twice their size.

Time’s shoulders shrunk in, but he pressed on, strangely persistent. Dream was more than a little annoyed and concerned, now. “Please, End? I hardly ever get offerings! None of the mortals really believe in me,” he pushed, seemingly more desperate. Dream brought one of his tertiary wings between them, and, more importantly, between the other god and the two mortals, growing slightly uncomfortable at the God of Time’s intensity.

He realized that Time probably wouldn’t give up on pestering him for the two mortals anytime soon. With a small internal sigh, he came to the conclusion that he would have to take care of the problem in the best way he could think of; ‘eating’ Sapnap and George. Maybe then Time would get off his back about it.

“Actually,” Dream said slowly, tugging the cage in front of him and further away from the other god. “I think I will eat them. I suddenly have an appetite.” The color of Time’s blindfold drained to a pale greenish-yellow, and his fingers tightened in his pendant chains. He tried to protest, but Dream ignored him in favor of focusing on his two mortal friends.

He'd have to do Sapnap first, and get him over with. The fireborn-mortal would fight the most, and probably be the most difficult to get down.

Dream let a jagged black maw form and split the lower half of his mask, testing it a few times by opening and closing his jaw. He didn’t form any teeth, as he didn’t want to accidentally bite either of his fragile friends, but he did shape a soft, pliant tongue, to make the landing into his mouth not as harsh, and allowed saliva to pool over and underneath it so that he could slicken them up and make the journey down easier on all of them. For the faux stomach, he simply opened up a small pocket of flesh between his lungs, just below his heart, and attached it to his esophagus via a small opening near the top of this new space. He supplied air through small connections to his lungs, knowing that his two mortal friends couldn't last as long as he could without breathing.

Fake stomach prepared, he braced the cage with two of his hands and reached into it with a third hand, intent on grabbing the dark-haired human. The bars yielded to his touch, automatically bending around his wrist as he stuck his hand through them.

He moved quickly, surrounding Sapnap in his fist before the tiny mortal could scramble away, pulling him from George’s desperately grabbing hands, and lifting him from the solid metal floor, then up through the bars, out of the cage.

Dream did his best to ignore both of their cries of fear, as well as Time's strangled gasp, as he lightly tossed Sapnap into his newly-formed mouth and closed it. The tiny mortal cursed, shoving at the roof of Dream’s mouth and kicking violently at his tongue. He held his wince and squashed the human against the roof of his mouth, soaking his clothes in saliva. He then pushed Sapnap to the entrance of his throat and swallowed, ignoring the clawed fingers that drew blood and the furious shriek Sapnap let loose.

The sound of tiny screaming drew a few curious glances from the other gods, but they soon looked away. The consuming of mortal sacrifices was normal for them all, so the screeching humans were nothing interesting to watch.

As Sapnap slid down to the safe stomach, Dream turned his gaze down to his brunette friend. George had actual tears in his eyes, and his breath was coming in such short, harsh pants that it was a small miracle that he hadn’t passed out already. Dream felt a pang of regret ring through his chest, but he pushed it down. He had already made his decision. It would look incredibly suspicious if he backed out now.

Holding back another sigh, he stuck his hand back through the cage bars and moved to grab the little mortal. George pressed against the bars of the cage, chest heaving, then tried to lunge underneath Dream's clawed hand as it approached. Instinctively, Dream slapped his hand down on top of the human, slamming him to the floor of the cage and trapping him underneath his palm. Dream winced at George's strangled cry of pain, and resolved to apologize for that later. As well as for everything else. Profusely.

Carefully, he scooped the struggling man up and pressed him between his fingers and palm, negating his struggling. “Fuck off, you monster!” George screeched as Dream brought him out of the cage. The spoken English was a jarring difference from the language spoken in the godly realm, and usually Dream enjoyed hearing it. Now, though? It hurt.

Gently, he shoved the now definitely crying, cursing mortal into his mouth and closed it. Dream ignored the saltine taste of the human’s tears as he ran his tongue over George’s body, and when he finally swallowed, it was a relief to no longer have to endure the flavor of his fear and anguish.

They both tasted amazing, aside from the fact that it was his two closest friends he was eating. Of course, mortals always were like the sweetest ambrosia, and usually Dream really would enjoy it. Not now though. Not this time, not when it was George and Sapnap. He held back a shudder and straightened his shoulders. Now he just needed to wait for the end of the gathering, so that he could explain everything and let them go.

Through everything, Time's gaze never left him. He couldn’t see the other god’s eyes, but something about his aura felt desperate, felt heart-broken. Dream forced himself to brush it off. If Time wanted human sacrifices that bad, he could work harder to make himself known to the mortals. These two, he could not have.

Dream could hear them crying from inside of him, and though the sound never left his body, it haunted him. It tore at his heart, and he wanted to reassure them so badly, but he couldn’t. If any of the other gods knew that he was friends with mortals…

Something sharp spiked into his flesh from the inside, but the wound healed almost immediately. Dream held his winces, and eventually, the two mortals gave up and stopped stabbing at his guts.

Eventually, Time wandered away, a sickening green wash coloring his blindfold. Dream didn’t watch him for too long after he left. He was more focused on the no-longer struggling contents of his gut. They were scared, that was for certain, but maybe it had been long enough that they had realized they weren’t going to die?

Death shot him a knowing look near the end of the gathering. Dream held back a wince. Of course she'd know that he didn't actually eat the two mortals...their lives were her domain, after all.

He raised his primary set of wings at her, daring her to say anything, but she only quirked her lips in a serene smile and turned away. Uncertainly, Dream folded his wings back down and settled back into his chair. Death wasn’t one to call someone out on something, and she was actually quite nice. Maybe she wouldn’t report him to the Prime Gods? He hoped not. He’d have to talk to her when he next got the chance, as soon as he could. He didn’t want to risk anything, even if she didn’t plan to turn him in for breaking one of the Gods of Prime’s laws.

After the gathering, Dream swept from the hall, regally declining any sort of accompaniment from all of his godly friends. He couldn't run through the halls of the citadel without arousing confusion and concern, but he damn sure wished he could. His two mortal friends had spent too much time already being scared for their lives, and he wanted to reassure them as soon as he could.

Before he could enter his chambers, the God of Time intercepted him, stepping out from behind one of the thick, decorative sconces that bordered the door. Dream stopped, reflexively puffing up his feathers and crossing all of his arms. What did Time want now…?

Usually, he and Time were on pretty good terms. They weren't close enough to know each other’s chosen names, but they got along very well. He liked Time, but right now, his behavior was starting to freak Dream out.

"The mortals, you didn't kill them, did you?" Time blurted before Dream could say anything. Dream froze for half a second before forcing himself to look composed. How did he know…? Should he be worried? He didn’t think Time would turn him over to the Gods of Prime over such a small thing as refusing to give him his sacrifices, but…

Dream looked over Time. The other god’s shoulders were pushed out bravely, but his hands were shaking. His multitude of necklaces and pendants jingled with the movement, and his blindfold was still that same sickening shade of greenish-yellow as before. The golden streams of sand that drifted around his body, usually quite smooth and tranquil, seemed more scattered, frantic, even, and were swirling much faster than usual. His face was pale, and he couldn’t seem to stop chewing at his bottom lip.

Dream cocked his head and flared out his secondary wings. "What would make you say that?" His mind was racing, already coming up with possible excuses to toss out at the slightest hint of suspicion. If that didn’t work, he was already mapping out ways to subdue Time, maybe knock him unconscious, and after that…well, the God of Memory still owed him that favor…

"I asked Death, if–if I could have their souls back from her. She said that she didn't have them. So that means you still have them.” The other god blurted, shoulders hitching down just the slightest bit. “That means that they’re still alive…" Time’s chin dipped down briefly, and quickly rose up again. Dream realized with an unsettled jolt that the other god had glanced at his abdomen, where the two mortals currently were.

Dream froze for a moment, then mentally shook himself. He was on equal ground with Time, as they were just about the same in power, so he couldn’t just attack him straight out. He’d either have to bluff his way out of this, or distract Time long enough to catch him unawares.

"What if I do? What does it matter to you?" Dream blustered, straightening up to his full height. The fact that Time was pretty much as tall as he was gave him little pause, but he pushed past it and stared the other god down. “I already told you before, I’m not going to give them to you. They’re mine.”

The God of Time flinched back at the intensity in Dream’s voice, and he seemed internally conflicted. He opened his mouth to say something, blindfold flushing to a pale blue-green, then closed his jaw. The sand around his body fluctuated as his internal debate raged, but finally, he managed to speak.

"I–" Time wavered for a moment longer, then sighed a long, resigned sigh, hands tangling up in his clock chains again. "I know the black-haired one. I–he–. We're good fr-…acquaintances. I don't want him dead." He mumbled, casting his head down and away from Dream.

He perked up suddenly, a fierce hardness solidifying in his aura. The sands around his body condensed into more solid trails, and the color of the cloth around his eyes twisted up into a violent reddish-orange.

"I know I broke the rules, but I don't care. The Prime Gods can stuff it. I’ll even fight you over this, End, I will. Just give them to me, and I’ll leave you alone, okay?” Despite his strong words, his hands were still distinctly trembling. Between Time’s fingers, Dream could feel the unmistakable pressure of the other god’s magic coalescing. He was obviously ready for a fight, even with his visible anxiety.

Dream himself was left speechless at this new revelation. Time knew the black-haired one, knew Sapnap…? He was thrown off-balance by this information, and didn’t know how to react. That, and the fact that Time had basically just insulted the Gods of Prime! He was lucky there was no one else in the corridor. He could be excommunicated for that!

His higher thinking finally kicked up into gear. If Time already knew Sapnap…that meant that Time was in the same boat as Dream was. That meant that he could tell time of his own involvement, and, more importantly, avoid a fight while he still had his fragile mortal friends inside of him.

Dream sagged inwardly at this final thought, and made up his mind. He would, could tell Time, and this whole unfortunate mess would be resolved.

Outwardly, he showed no emotion other than his wings folding down against his back and his feathers smoothing down once more. "Come on, then," he finally said, beckoning the God of Time towards his chamber door. Time faltered, blindfold melting into a strained brown, and a befuddled twist curled over his lips. He didn’t immediately move to follow Dream, so the End God flicked a tertiary wing out and waved him forward again. “We…we have to talk, and I don’t want to do it out here.”

Cautiously, the other god followed him as he pushed open the heavy chamber door and entered his rooms proper. Dream could feel Time’s suspicious yet hopeful gaze on the backs of his wings, but he ignored it for the moment.

Once the varnished door was closed and firmly barred, Dream slumped and let all six of his wings droop down until most of his primary feathers brushed the polished floor. Normally, he wouldn't be one to let the other gods see him be anything but strong and in control, but…well. This wasn't a normal situation. Plus, he and Time were already fairly good acquaintances, so he didn’t much care.

Quietly, he flicked out a wing and cast a privacy ward over the room. No word of the upcoming conversation would ever reach any ears other than the occupants of his chambers.

Time looked at him oddly as he set up another charm to warn if someone was approaching the entrance of Dream’s chambers, but otherwise said not a word. He was waiting for Dream to speak first, it seemed.

"I know them both." Dream finally sighed, making his way to the doorway that led to his, in mortal terms, ‘living room.’ Time made a strangled, surprised noise as he followed Dream into the room. “You–ah–what? You know them?” Out of the corner of his vision, Dream saw Time’s blindfold flush up to a bright, startled yellow, and his sand seemed to poof out in a spastic burst.

“Yeah.” Dream wearily eased himself down onto one of the low-backed burgundy chesterfields surrounding a short, gilded glass table, mindful of jostling his tiny passengers, and gestured for Time to do the same. The other god sank down onto the cushions opposite of Dream, confusion still twisting up on his features.

“I…I hang out with them, in a human form, when I don’t have any duties to attend to.” He started to explain, leaning forward to clasp two of his hands together. “I thought…I thought you just wanted to actually eat them. Sorry.” He gave Time a small, apologetic smile with his still-present mouth, and waited for the other god to reply.

Time stared at him for a long moment, before letting loose a long, heavy breath. He ran a hand through his curled hair and glanced at the baroque-styled ceiling. “Ohhh, thank Prime. Thank Prime. Ohhh, you have no idea how scared I was, that you had actually…actually killed him.” He looked back at Dream, then tilted his head down towards the End God’s abdomen. “So…Sapnap’s okay? Err, they both are?” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’ll admit, I don’t know the other one.”

Dream nodded, straightening up a little and glancing down at where the two mortals were. “They’re both fine. I formed a separate, safe pocket of air to hold them in for the time being.” He jolted, then, at a sudden realization that flooded his body with guilt.

“They don’t know that it’s safe!” He blurted, six wings flaring up in alarm. “I…I didn’t tell them.” Time’s lips creased in concern as well, at his words, and he leaned towards Dream. “You can get them out, right? Or at least tell them?”

Dream sucked in a short breath with another nod. “Yeah, but they probably won’t trust my words. I’m gonna let them out.”

Gently, he touched at the area of the faux stomach, readying to push at it and squish its contents up, but paused. He had to prepare himself for whatever confrontation came in the next few seconds. Whatever happened, he knew it was not going to be pretty. Neither human was someone to be trifled with when they were upset.

Finally ready, he dug his fingers into his abdomen, squashing the bottom of the faux stomach flat and forcing the two small bodies up into the tube that connected to his esophagus. They cried out, startled, as Dream’s muscles tugged them upwards towards the outside world.

He closed the flesh up behind them as they rose, no longer needing the faux stomach, and not wanting them to fall back down into it.

They passed up into his throat, and slid into his mouth. One, and then two small weights rested on his tongue once more. He could feel them clinging to one another, the flavor of their desperation and fear absolutely pooling against his taste buds, and it made him feel awful.

He cupped two of his hands together and brought them up to his mouth. Very gently, he opened his jaw and slid the two trembling bodies onto his palms with his tongue. Saliva clung to his skin wherever the two mortals touched, but it was fine. He could clean everything up later.

When he lowered his hands to get a good look at them, George let loose a small cry, scrambling back in his palm and pressing up against the barrier his curled fingers made, while Sapnap lunged in front of the other man, trying to block him from Dream's view.

Dream shot a small, worried glance towards Time, then looked back down at the two soggy mortals he held in his hands. He…He was unsure of what to say, of where to start. Seeing them here, now, in the godly realm, in his hands, it really hit him, how much power he had over them, how truly insignificant they were to the grand scheme of the Prime Gods.

Dream pushed that thought away with a special kind of dislike and settled on apologizing, first and foremost.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I didn't mean to scare you guys.” He apologized, speaking in English, the most common language down in the overworld. The two of them wouldn’t understand the speech of the gods. Time leaned forward, probably trying to catch a glimpse of them, so Dream lowered his hands down even more and waited for the two mortals to say something.

At the sound of his voice, George had frozen. His bi-colored eyes were wide with shock and a large dose of fear, and his lips were slightly parted. Sapnap, meanwhile, jolted out of his frightened stupor and exploded.

“Who the fuck do you think you are–what even are you, you bastard? What kind of jackass decides it’s okay to–to fucking eat somebody?! What’s fucking wrong with you?!” Dream could feel the human’s ire in the form of heat as he snarled forward over his palms, and it was only George’s restraining hand on the fireborn’s bicep that kept him from trying to lunge for something vital on Dream’s immense body. “Fucking—why are we even here?! Let us go, before I shred you into pieces, who the fuck even are you–”

One of Time’s hands was covering his mouth. Dream couldn’t tell if he was shocked at the mortal’s outburst, or amused. From the way Time’s blindfold had shifted to a pale grey-green, he’d say surprised and worried. Dream himself didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t bother trying to shut the mortal up. Once Sapnap got started, there was no stopping him. He’d have to work himself out first, before Dream would be able to get a word in edgewise.

A thought drifted into Dream’s head, and he decided to follow it. If it could get Sapnap to stop ranting…

Without a word, Dream let his godly form start melting away. His wings shivered and sank into his back with the slightest sound of shifting of feathers, eyes of ender popping quietly out of existence, while his two free arms merged into the ones holding George and Sapnap. He let the little jewelry and bangles he wore disperse, as well as the dual halos orbiting his skull, and he even went so far as to change his long, flowing robes into the usual attire he wore in his human form. A cropped, bright green hoodie over a tight black undershirt, and baggy, tan cargo pants. Finally, the markings on his mask changed from an ‘XD” to a simple dot-eyed smiley face.

Despite the immense size his body still held, Dream looked, for all intents and purposes, human. He even used his shoulder to push his mask up to the side, finally allowing him to see the two tiny mortals eye-to-eye.

Sapnap’s rant faltered at the sudden sight before him. “—and…Dream…?” The man’s mouth went slack in shock. George, meanwhile, had tightened his grip on the other man’s arm, and had gone as white as a sheet.

“Hey,” Dream greeted hesitantly, keeping his voice low, only now realizing that speaking at full volume around their weak human ears may be a bad idea.

“What the fuck,” Sapnap hissed, stumbling away the few steps he had taken and pressing his back up against George, who wrapped an arm around Sapnap’s chest and stared agape over the fireborn’s shoulder. Dream could feel both of their heartbeats hike up significantly against his fingertips, and he winced. He didn’t know if that had helped at all, but at least it had gotten Sapnap to stop cussing him out.

“I…” He started, then paused, slowly gathering what he wanted to say. Time had leaned forward so far that he was practically on top of the glass center table so that he could see the two humans, but neither of them had noticed the other god. Their eyes were focused on Dream, and Dream alone. “I guess I have a lot of explaining to do,” he finally mumbled, glancing away to look at Time. The other god met his gaze and gave a small noise of uncertainty, one that Dream definitely felt. What did one say, when you had lied to your best friends about your humanity, and especially when the truth had come out in such a way as this? Dream didn’t know.

At the noise Time had made, George had whipped around and let out a small cry of alarm when he caught sight of the other god, tumbling away to press against the heels of Dream’s palms. He dragged Sapnap with him, who only now caught sight of how close Time was. He let loose his own startled cry and shoved George back behind himself, now facing the God of Time with a violent, apprehensive expression on his face. It made Dream feel a little better, to know that they’d rather have him at their backs instead of Time, who was their current unknown, but he knew it was only because of circumstance. He didn’t know if they’d want to associate with either of them after this.

“Who–who’s that? Who are you?” George demanded, voice shaking. His minuscule fingers tightened in Sapnap’s shirt, and Dream was hit with the distinct desire to bundle them both up against his chest and hide them both away from the world, from everything. This was awful, seeing them so terrified of everything.

“It–it’s me,” Time blurted, directing his gaze at Sapnap. The fireborn’s eyes widened, shock coloring his features once more, and his tiny hands scrambled to grasp at George’s for support.

As if just the sound of his voice wasn’t confirmation enough, Time spoke again, more insistently. “It’s Karl,” he nearly pleaded, leaning back over the table just the slightest bit. His blindfold flared to a bright, hopeful-looking blue, and he bit at his lip nervously.

Dream jolted at the sudden drop of Time’s chosen name, and watched in mild shock as Time's form twisted and wavered until a human body emerged from the shifting sands. His wavy brown hair was the same, though now adorned with thick brass goggles, and now Dream could see his eyes, a warm amber in shade, blindfold gone. The majority of his clocks and pendants were gone as well, only a small golden hourglass with a delicate chain looped around his neck. Instead of deeply violet robes, he had a cropped multicolored hoodie, much like Dream's own green one, with a dark undershirt and simple dark cargo pants. Multiple thick belts were looped around his hips, and a simple brown book bag was strapped over his chest and hanging from his side.

A strangled croaking noise escaped from Sapnap’s throat, and he dropped most of his weight against George as his legs weakened on him. Dream moved a thumb to try and help steady him, but the way both of them flinched back stilled his movement. He retracted his silent offer of support. “What the fuck,” Sapnap whispered once more, reaching up to cover his mouth with a trembling hand. George grunted in concurrence, glancing uncertainly between the looming forms of both Dream and Time–Karl? Was he allowed to call him that? Since he hadn’t expressly given Dream his chosen name? Dream didn’t know.

“What…What are you two?” Sapnap muttered, looking up at the two of them and clutching at the pale arms wrapped around his chest. “Where the…where the hell are we?”

There was a long moment where neither he nor Ti–Karl, he decided, answered. “We’re…gods.” Dream finally stilted, killing the sudden silence that dropped over them all. “We–you’re uh, in the Void. The, the Realm of the Gods. You got…sacrificed.”

Another strangled noise came from them both this time, and Dream could see George’s legs shaking now, as well. Oh, End, how badly did they hate him now? Hate Karl?

“Can you—” George started suddenly, then stopped, swallowing to clear his throat. “Dream. Put us down. Please.” Dream nodded hurriedly, lowering his hands down to the surface of the glass table that Karl was rapidly scrambling off of, and flattened his fingers to allow for a ramp to the clear surface.

The two stumbled off of his hands onto the glass, supporting each other even as they sank down to the ground on account of their shaking legs. They eyed the translucent ground warily, and beyond that, the dark rug covering the smooth stone floor beneath them.

Later, Dream would have to clean the footprint-shaped spit trail from the glass, as well as the puddle where they were sitting, but for now it could wait.

For now, he wiped his saliva-sticky hands off on his pants and decided to apologize to them again.

"S-sorry. For scaring you guys. And–and slapping you so hard George." Dream cringed at the mention of the memory, and George winced. "Are you okay?"

Slowly, the brunette nodded, dual colored eyes glittering in the light of the enchanted sconces lining the room. "It's…it's fine. Just a few bruises, nothing that won't heal quickly."

Though he knew that the mortal was probably lying about the severity of the bruises (he had slammed him down pretty hard) Dream breathed a breath of relief. If George was in severe pain, he'd be tearing into Dream about stupidity and for hurting him.

“Why—why the hell did you eat us?” Sapnap suddenly demanded, sitting up straight and glaring over George's shoulder. "What the fuck was that about?!"

“I…” Dream faltered, glancing up at Karl for help. The other god’s eyes darted between the three of them, and he sucked in a heavy, preparatory breath before speaking. “He thought I wanted you two. To, um, to eat.”

Dream joined in, thoughts gathered enough to know what to say. “I…I thought that I only had three options. Err, keep, keep refusing and have somebody get suspicious and probably report me to the Prime Gods, give you to him,” Dream jerked his head at Karl, “to be, what I thought, actually eaten, or,” he paused again, sucking in a steadying breath. “Or just do it myself, where I knew you’d be safe.”

"It's also tradition," Karl butted in, face twisted in a way that made it seem like he wanted to be anywhere other than there. “Nobody–nobody’s ever rejected a sacrifice. There would be an upheaval if someone did.”

Dream noticed that he didn't mention that humans, especially those that had been sacrificed to the gods, were delicious. It was a tactful move, one that Dream would follow along with. There was no need to make the two mortals hate them both even more.

"It also breaks a lot of rules, one of us interacting with mortals." Dream added. "If the other gods had found out, you both would be dead, and Karl and I would probably lose our positions, or at the very least be cast out of the void."

He noticed Karl glance at him at the use of his chosen name, but he said nothing about it. Dream dipped his head at him, indicating that the other god could use his name as well, if he so chose.

"If it had been someone else, if somebody else had been sacrificed, would—would you have killed them?" George asked.

Dream fell silent and turned his head down. He…He did not want to admit to anything, even if it was true. The dead silence was deafening, other than the sound of Karl nervously shifting on the sofa opposite him.

"Have you–" Sapnap started, then stopped. He was silent for an incredibly long moment, and then said decisively, "Nevermind."

Neither Dream nor Karl needed to ask what his question was. Have you had sacrifices before? Have you killed before?

The answer was obvious. But they weren’t willing to say it.

"So…"George started, clear hesitance coloring his tone. "What's going to happen to us now?"

They were shivering. Dream didn't know if it was from fear, or from the saliva still soaking their clothes and the fact that the room was a little chilled.

"Do you guys–do you wanna wash off, or something…?" Dream ventured, pointing carefully at the slick dampness still dripping from their clothes. The two looked down in disgust, but shook their heads regardless. “Maybe later,” George muttered, reaching down to try and wring out his shirt a little bit. “I don’t know about Sapnap, but I really don’t want to be touched right now.” The by either of you went completely unsaid, but both Dream and Karl could read between the lines.

Sapnap was nodding, and it really, really did hurt, how neither of them seemed to be able to trust the gods, but after what had just been said…Dream didn’t blame them. He couldn’t blame them. He’d be scared, too.

"We'll take you two back to the overworld, then, when you’re ready,” Karl broke the choking quiet by answering George’s previously asked question. He wrung his hands together, biting at his lip as he carefully ventured forth his next words.

"If you ever feel like talking to either of us ever—ever again after this, or–or if you need help, just…just call to the God of Time, or the God of the Overworld, okay?" Karl implored hopefully, leaning forward from the cushions of the chesterfield. "We'll hear you, wherever you are."

"I think…" Sapnap trailed off, bisected orange eyes drifting down to rest on a smudge on the glass table. Dream held his breath, hoping against hope that the fireborn wouldn't reject them outright.

Sapnap looked up, first at Dream, then at Karl, where his gaze lingered. "I think I will. I just…I need time to process. Uh, all of this.” He then turned his eyes to George, who was looking contemplative as he wiped his damp hands on his damp pants. After a long, long beat, he finally glanced up and met Dream’s gaze. A whirlpool of emotions were swimming in his eyes, most indecipherable for the God of the End. What he could see, though, wasn’t promising. Apprehension, wariness, the gleam of calculation, tiny hints of lingering fear…Dream didn’t know if George would ever want to see him again. The human may feel like it was too dangerous, may feel like Dream had betrayed him…Dream wouldn’t argue, if that were the case and George wanted nothing to do with him, but…

Dream would be heartbroken, that was for certain.

“I…I don’t know, Dream.” The brunette finally spoke, turning his eyes away again. “I…you’re a god. How am I supposed to respond to that? You ate me, ate us, what do I say?! I’m going to have nightmares from this whole…everything, and now that I know it was you…” He trailed off, glancing at Dream’s chest, then quickly away. “Maybe in the future, I don’t know, but…not, not right now, okay?”

Dream’s heart pinged painfully at the human’s words, but he wouldn’t let himself be crushed. At least George hadn’t decided to completely cut himself off from Dream? The End God had to hold onto that, and hope that it would keep him afloat.

“Okay,” was all Dream said, even though his brain was screaming at him to plead and beg for George to accept him now, because he was still the same guy he knew, just bigger and more powerful than any mortal could possibly fathom.

A solemn moment imposed itself over them all as the four of them mulled over the events that had transpired. Karl was fairly happy with the outcome. Sapnap would…probably come around, eventually, and it’s not like mortal time would be very long to wait, for a god. As a bonus, he had learned that End, no, Dream, had broken the same rules as he had, and in that, he had found a new kinship with the other god. He did feel bad for Dream, though, because it seemed like his other mortal friend, the brunette, was rejecting him. He hoped that George wouldn’t hate Dream for any of this.

Sapnap was still processing. His…very close friend, Karl, had turned out to be a god, (of either time or of the overworld, he wasn’t sure which) and that scared him, but…he could get over it. Karl was still Karl, after all, no matter how big or scary or powerful. Same with Dream. He would get used to it, he was sure. He was just mostly happy that they weren’t going to die in the gut of some giant deity. Everything else? Piece of cake, a flat breeze. Sapnap could deal.

George…George didn’t want to believe any of this. Dream, his very favorite friend, was a god? Dream, the man who could make him laugh in almost any situation, had eaten him? Had eaten Sapnap? What was George supposed to think? Even if it was for their ‘safety’ or whatever, at least he could’ve given some sign, some warning? George knew that he’d be having night terrors after this awful experience. He’d already had trouble with sleep, but now? Oh, he was so screwed. A small part of him hoped, just maybe, he would be able to force himself to interact with Dream without freaking out, but every time the thought crossed his mind, uncontrollable shivers wracked up his spine, and he felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t think he could do it. He didn’t want to. At least he still had Sapnap. At least they were both alive.

Dream wanted to cry. Or smite something. Maybe he could go fry a pillager outpost after this? Maybe. George…he didn’t think George wanted to be around him after this. He really, really hoped George would come around, but he doubted it. He knew the mortal wouldn’t. George was very, very stubborn, which meant that Dream had just lost him. He tried to cheer himself up by telling himself that he may still have Sapnap, and that he had just gained a closer relationship with Karl, but it didn’t help much, not when it was compared with the loss of George.

His thoughts turned to whose fault this all probably was, and a sudden realization that had a snarl crawling over his face passed through his head. He needed to know, so that he could smite them, for causing all of this mess. That, and the indignant anger over the fact that his two humans had been slated to die.

"Who the fuck had the gall to sacrifice you two?!" He abruptly growled, and Sapnap snorted at the sudden outburst. Soon, they were all cackling uncontrollably, and Dream felt just the littlest bit better about it all. Maybe things wouldn’t turn out so bad…maybe.

(End)

~~~~~~~~~~

So, a while later, like, several months or something, George runs into some trouble, alone at night being attacked by a hoard of mobs, and he’s desperate. His armor is gone, his sword is about to break, and he will die if he can’t think of anything. So, he does the only thing he thinks he can do: he screams for Dream, he calls for the overworld god to help him, please, and then suddenly the mobs are being mowed down, one by one, by a (thankfully human-sized) green clad man. Then there’s a terse, heartfelt moment between the two where Dream says that there isn’t much worth doing without George. A bunch of emotions are laid bare that night, but they reconnect, and grow very much closer to each other.

Sapnap is elated by the news, as well as Karl.)

Taglist that I fucking forgot o~O

@brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu

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bueris · 8 days

Text

not going home club (hiori yo)

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angst, hiori parent bashing, 1.9k words

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Music blasted in his ears, as loud as he could stand it, heavy bass and raggedly screamed lyrics drowning out his roommates conversation. God, guys his age could be so fucking loud and for what? To be stupid? Yeah, he was being salty but when wasn’t he, he just made sure no one else saw it.

Hiori remembered the sentence that made the headphones get brought out, it wasn’t even a full one…

“When I go home-” and that’s all he heard before he decided to tap out of the conversation. His headphones were in his hands and turned on before he really recognised what he was doing, getting frustrated with the way they refused to pair with his phone. They did eventually though, thank fucking god for that, and metal was playing through them soon after.

Sure, he felt slightly guilty for getting pissed over some small and insignificant comment his friend said. But he didn’t do anything, didn’t yell or get pissy so maybe he shouldn’t beat himself up so damn much. Still, though, he felt silly for getting so worked up for something so small but hey, he had his reasons.

The thought of going home felt physically repulsive, like he wanted to rip out from his skin and get as far away from the thought as possible. Whenever the thought crossed his mind it felt like his whole brain came to a full stop, like it hit a brick wall that prevented him from continuing along those tracks.

Of course he didn’t want to go back, he had no plan to, actually. His parents didn’t give a fuck about him, Yo, the child they had, no they only gave a fuck about what he could do, pressing him into their shitty mould to coping with being second rate halfwits who couldn’t succeed with their own lives. Seriously, Yo’d seen those American pageant videos online, you know the one, dozens of little kids forced into the stupidest, most invasive procedures to live out the half baked dreams of their mothers who only wanted to live through them by dressing them up like they were a doll and not a person.

He related to those kids so fucking much it hurt, yeah he liked doing football now but in no way did that mean that he forgave his parents for being like that. The way waking up felt pointless and empty because the day would be filled with doing shit you had no fucking say in built up over years and crushed him with its void-like weight, soul sucking and soul crushing.

Sometimes he feels like he’d betrayed himself, his young self, the one who hurt his ankle and realised his parents didn’t really love him in the same few minutes, the one that desperately tried to be good so they’d keep loving him and more importantly each other, by learning to enjoy football in his own way. That petulant child kicked him on the inside, cleat covered foot driving its too-firm outsole into the backs of him eyes, reminding him of everything that drove him insane.

Yo didn’t really feel guilt about the resentment he harboured for his parents, no, he couldn’t. They really were exceptionally stupid, emotional creatures that were so desperate for the centre of the limelight that they just had to make a whole new person about it? He felt angry on behalf of his younger self too, how dare they do something so fucking selfish? How dare they play with him like he didn’t have his own personhood? How fucking dare they.

Ever since the incident on the stairs he’d doubted every ‘kind’ action they made, doubted the sincerity in them, doubted their motivations. It always felt forced but now he knew it absolutely was, there only just to fulfil his basic needs so he wouldn’t have a breakdown mid match or something, or god forbid, end up in therapy when he could be practising.

God it made him feel mental, how long could someone go without genuine human contact without losing it? He found out, sixteen years. Sixteen years and he still clung on. And he was mad he was clinging on, because he shouldn’t have to fucking cling to the edges of his stability with often-forced politeness, he deserved better.

And that’s why he would never go back home, when Blue Lock was over and he’d ultimately failed because being a striker wasn’t even his goal anymore he’d leave for Tokyo instead of home the second he was left unattended and disappear into the grey jungle and make it alone no matter what. Going home was the same as being stuffed back into a display home, and on top of that he’d have to deal with his parents coping with his failure.

The thought brought a smile to his face, actually, wouldn’t it be so fucking funny to watch their faces fall when his foot crossed the threshold? To watch as half of their lives crumbled into nothing with his very presence, to try and wrap their tiny minds around the fact they’d never get the spotlight they wanted. It was a gleeful feeling, to imagine they’d be crushed with hopelessness, folding under the weight of disappointment the same way he did when he realised he was only worth as much as his football was to them.

Often though, the anger and its accompanying vengeful joy shattered into pained fragments, stabbing and poking at him with an overwhelming sense of loss. If only his parents actually loved him, if only they could look at him and truly see him, witness his truth that strayed from the path they set out and still cradle him in their arms with love and sweet words.

It ached, that longing, constantly. Sometimes it was ignorable but most of the time he could tell it was there, looming over his head like the worst, most decrepit kind of shadow. An all consuming void that soaked up genuine praise like a parched sponge, but never felt full, never satiated. Sometimes he just craved to be held like he should’ve as a child.

Other times, that being most, the waves of anger intersected with the waves of sadness and they dulled each other out like opposite colours being mixed together, red and blue forced to co-exist in the childhood shaped hole in his mind. They cancelled out, filling the base of his being, the root of his psyche with a nothing colour that felt like it could block out the sun. That nothing feeling was so normal, it was everyday, it felt so weird because it was like walking around half deaf. The numbness didn’t feel like much, because he didn’t feel like much and he hadn’t for a very long time, the only breaks from it were filled with ugly feelings he’d rather ignore.

He felt tired a lot of the time, a consequence of the numbness sometimes and a result of his anger burning too bright at others. The tiredness after a bout of anger felt so bone deep, probably because it was, he had nowhere to put it and it dug through the fibres of his muscles and into his bone marrow and from the blood they produced the tiredness spread and filled him. Yo wished his anger could go somewhere, disappear off of his head like steam from water when he put his head on the pillow to finally sleep, he really wished it could.

Blue Lock felt like a monumental chore at first, playing along until he got far enough for his parents to not disown him instantly then quit and disappear. Oh, he wished he could disappear, pack his life into a bag or two and vanish from the face of the earth. Not only that, no, he wanted it to hurt. He wanted it to hurt his family, to watch them mourn the idea of their missing son, the tears they’d shed over their hopes dissolving in front of them as an intangible spectator. He wanted it to hurt him, to feel the guilt and the horrible impending doom of no longer existing as he stuffed clothes into bags until there was nothing left but the mementos that tied him to his parents that he would leave behind forever to collect dust in his empty room that was never really home.

It was a stupid childish fantasy, and a tragedy that he could only imagine half-genuine tears of half-genuine care being shed over him when he wasn’t there. But he could, if he wanted to, disappear into the city and never come back, be swallowed by its crowded streets never to be seen again.

It would be awful, the life of a teen runaway would never be easy, especially in the city. He’d considered the countryside too, miles of forest to hide in and less people to catch him. It would be easier to physically do too, to hop off the bus taking him back home, wait for it to leave and walk in the direct opposite of his house. But he wanted to live properly, live freely in society when he was of age and no longer required to be in his parent’s ‘care’, and he could only do that with a good job. Safe to say, he’d been planning this for a while, since he was a child.

God isn’t that awful? A childish plan that lasted so long it evolved, and all because two people decided to be selfish.

Yo sighed, the paper in front of him wasn’t getting any fuller, what a waste.

He wondered if his parents would’ve been happier if they hadn’t had him. Maybe they would’ve divorced and found something healthier to do with their time than reminisce, maybe his mother would’ve gone somewhere with her life instead of ending up as a miserable stay at home mother, maybe his father wouldn’t be so distant with her. Maybe, just maybe they would’ve moved on from their early peak and been happy.

And so, he felt guilty for existing sometimes, without him they could’ve moved on, had a happy life untethered by accomplishments they didn’t quite get, maybe even had a child they could love right. He kicked himself a little every time a ‘what if’ burrowed its way into his brain, that would never happen and thinking like that is useless because he’ll end up killing himself, and he intends to live long enough to abandon them.

Still, he rewatched the U-20 match sometimes, telling himself over and over that it was for the game play, but only focusing on the interviews at the end. With the glossy eyes of a child he’d watch them, watch as his peers spoke of their families, watch as their families spoke of his peers. There were highlights and social media posts that captured them embracing, the high emotions and the tears and the tight grip they had on one another that spoke of immense pride in them.

Oh, he wanted that, he wanted it dearly because when they did it, it meant something, it was more than some self-congratulatory act. He wanted it, and he mourned all the times he never got it everyday.

And so, no matter what he’d leave them. No more watching himself from someone else’s perspective, no more living for anyone else, from the moment he stepped foot outside his parents property he’d become a member of the world’s loneliest club. The not going home club.

Yo gave up with the paper in front of him, putting the pencil down and taking his headphones off. The chatter had died down, everyone focusing on their work. Next to him, Isagi shuffled closer, their legs brushing. It was a small act but it fit a lot of worth into it, not going home meant finding a new one. He wouldn’t be alone.

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also available on ao3!

thanks for reading ily <3

#hiori yo #bllk fanfic #bllk #blue lock #gave myself a headache writing this

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