#but i know for a fact I'll start fixating and then I'll do something stupid

[3-inch-sam]

hoe don't do it

#i have the strongest urge to replay Uru..... godddd #i SHOULD NOT #not this week anyway. maybe next week #but i know for a fact I'll start fixating and then I'll do something stupid #but at least this time I might actually be able to get through the main ages without a walkthrough <-lying #granted last time i played i was a kid but i don't think I'll ever be able to get through some of them without a walkthrough #sammy.txt #i just wanna see kadish tolesa again ugh #or gahreesen. garheesen?? i don't know how to spell it #uruposting #i wanna wander around in the new mexico desert barefoot is it too much to ask

[justatypicalwizard]

Dream eater | Bakugo Katsuki

✦ Slight angst. Bakugo is an eternal living dream eater. Slight self ship when it comes to the readers character.

✦ Inspired by a Webtoon series which I strongly reccomend: Eaternal Nocturnal

✦ Word count: 2,7k

✦ Warnings: none

Thinking about Bakugo who is a dream eater. During the day he wanders the world with a physical body that doesn't need much to sustain it, he doesn't even have to eat if he's not in the mood. Using his abnormal persuasion skills on some random landlord he convinced them that he's a tennant so he doesn't even have to pay for it.

All of his daytime existence is just an endless stroll with nothing specific to do. Yet, this changes during the night.

Bakugo sleeps, that's when he enters his dream eater form. It's golden, celestial and slightly transparent with sparkling tatoos of the sun, moon and various spirals embeded onto his skin. He floats around the city trying to fulfill himself with dreams.

Back in the day when people were more superstitious their dreams were a whole different world. They thought of magic, wealth, happiness, demons and signs. They believed that dreams had meaning, they wanted to remember them when they woke up. Now they no longer care for them. Today's dreams and shallow and predictable. People don't see sense in them, often not even remembering them.

This very seriously starves Bakugo as he needs to gather more and more tasteless dreams to survive. This also made him starved emotionally as he sees no more sense into his eternal existence which only makes him more annoyed, the eternal nothingness.

It all changes when one night he stumbles upon your dream. It's something different. Rarely ever does a human produce more than one dream a night, but you? You popped out three whole, crazy dreams that filled Bakugo up to the brim not only in case of his starving stomach but also with satisfaction. When he looked down at you with his golden eyes he felt... good.

You never dissapointed him and so he started to visit you daily, feeding on your dreams while roaming through your apartment to look at various small tokens of your personality. He found it quite cute how overwhelming your place was. There were plants, books, stupid little things like a ruler with a face or a big, fluffy pen everywhere. It was also a bit messy but he learned to ignore that fact.

Dream eaters scarcely ever met one another. They signed up for isolation, not wanting to claim each others feeding place. Because of that no one told Bakugo how dangerous it was to play for too long with one human, especially the one with crazy dreams.

One night when he was dipping his fingers in the matery of your dream, ready to pull it out you suddenly turned your face to him and opened your eyes.

He didn't know what to do for a split second when you asked him a question.

"Are you a dream?"

He nodded, fixated on the thought of gettion out of here.

"Is this a lucid dream?" You asked once more, propping yourself up on your elbows and rubbing your eyes.

"Yes."

He answered, hoping you would buy the lie.

"Oh, I hate lucid dreams, I'm always so tired after them." You put your feet on the floor and Bakugo jumped away like from fire.

Even though it was his chance to run he still found himself standing next to you and looking at what you were doing. At first you pinched yourself a few times. When it didn't bring you back from you 'dream' you started to kick you bed frame. After a few 'ouch' and 'fuck' you were getting annoyed. How come you couldn't get out of your dream? You had to wake up early tommorow!

"Guess I'll just do the thing that always works." You sighed stepping closer to your balcony door.

When you were about to flip yourself over the handrail of your balcony Bakugo stopped you, grabbing you by you pijama's collar.

"Stop, just go back to sleep." You looked at him as if he was an idiot.

Go back to sleep... in your dream? Looking at the bed you shrugged and went under your cozy cover one more time. Soon you fell back asleep and Bakugo breathed out an air of relief. He could have literary killed you just now. He really forgot how stupid people are.

For the next few weeks he avoided your place but it's hard to give up on a sweet treat once you tasted it. Earlier Bakugo thought other peoples' dreams were bland but now, when he had a good comparison, he felt it deep down his stomach. No dream tasted like yours. He convinced himself that several days were enough for you to forget the whole thing, to become unaware once again.

That night he found himself inside the well known apartment where you slept sweet and soundly. It was supposed to be only a moment, he would just grab a single dream and go. Yet, your softly turning form mesmerised him. As he came closer and closer, reaching his hand out to tangle his fingers into your dream your eyes fluttered open once again.

Did you sense him? You shouldn't even see him, most people didn't. But your look was focused enough to tell him otherwise.

"Wow, I'm having the same dream once again. Is it also lucid this time?" You asked with somewhat a hint of excitement in your sleepy voice.

"Uh, yes. Just don't jump the fuck out of the window again."

"Okay, okay. So, what are you doing here my dream hot thing?" Bakugo wondered whether you'd be embarassed if you discovered it was reality.

"Eating your dreams." Why make up shit when you already think he's imaginary.

"Oh, what?" You gave that thought some time. "How do they taste?"

This time it was Bakugo who was thinking. It was hard to name a specific taste, at least one that a human would understand. Your dreams tasted like satisfaction, creativity, happiness and care. Bakugo didn't even have to talk to you to know what a person you were.

"They taste good."

"Will it do anything to me?" Why should you be concerned with such a thing? It was all a big dream for you, everyone knows that nothing can really hurt you in a dream.

"No. You didn't notice earlier."

"So you've been doing it for some time now?"

"Yep."

"Huh, great." You laughed slightly. "I'll have to write a fanfic about this when I wake up."

You turned your butt his way and snuggled into your warm covers. Guess you were no longer interested in him. Bakugo kinda regretted that he couldn't talk to you more.

Next time he went to your place at nigh a strong headache hit him the moment he crossed the threshold. A very unpleasant thing sat proudly above your head. A bluish dreamcatcher dangled slightly when Bakugo locked eyes with it.

Those damned things. Earlier people used them to secure their dreams from Bakugo's kind. Did you know about it? Did you actually know that what happened every night was reality? Did he blow his cover? Guess he can ask you because you were up once again. You were getting quicker and quicker in waking up upon his presence.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked, scrunching his nose at the pain and pointing at the small token.

"Uh?" You were still sleepy. "What?"

"Take that thing off!"

When he raised his voice you stared at him in awe but did as he asked. You stuffed the dreamcatcher in a drawer and looked back at Bakugo, unsure what to do next.

"What was that?" You asked as he massaged his temples to get rid of the pain poundering in his head. Now that the catcher wasn't directly above your sleeping form it had way less power but Bakugo still felt it slightly.

"Why do you have it?" At this point he was sure he blew his cover and you'd start to freak out any second.

"It was a gift, from a friend. I just thought it was cute. You don't like it?"

"How can a fucking dream eater like a fucking dreamcatcher?" He spat out.

Both of you were quiet for a while before you asked.

"Is this really a dream?"

There you are, he's overdone it. He played with fate and that's what he gets. It was the first time in his life when a human seriously suspected anything about him.

Before he knew your hand flew through his biceps, not stopping when it reached its surface. His unearthly body was untouchable for you but a small trail of light followed your fingers as if you were playing with sparklers.

"What are you?" Even though a weird creature appeared i front of you in the middle of the night you were not sacred wich supprised Bakugo.

"I've already told you dumbass, a dream eater."

"Then can you come and eat my dreams a bit earier? I've been tired lately because of this waking up in the middle of the night."

And so he did come earlier. Bakugo went to bed early but he started even earlier. He was at your place around 10 every evening and you'd spend an hour or so together. He had no idea why you accepted his person or why you weren't freaked out by him. Maybe you've done some research on dream eaters? Nah, that would totally scare you. Bakugo knew what type of bullshit people came up with on the Internet. Besides, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself he was in fact a part of your world - he wasn't. You couldn't have known anything about him. Then why did you greet him with a smile every time?

"So, you do have a body?" You asked one night, looking at his golden intangible form with curiosity.

"Duh, why wouldn't I have one?"

"Then why do you come here like this?" That question threw him off board.

Bakugo was not one to voice out his failures, even more so his fears. And it was fear keeping him from you. There were too many times when Bakugo would loose someone, some human that he felt a connection with over the fact that he had to hide his true identity. He could never stay the night because he feared something might happen to him during his deep slumber. He could never stay with someone because at one point it would spill out that he never ages. He never let anyone deep nor close because he had nothing to share, nothing that would sound fitting into the humans' world. He had no work, no school, no earthly hobbies as they all felt... out of his reach.

All he could ever achieve was short, fake love that ended as soon as they even tried to get closer. This was something Bakugo promises not to fuck around with but he would lie if he said he didn't, for a split second, think about comming to you in his physical body, about touching you and feeling you.

"So?" You were persistent in your questions and Bakugo should tell you off, scold you and leave this second but instead he found himself grunting and nodding.

It was normal for him to aimlessly wander in the daylight, yet this time he had a goal that kept him mind occupied. It felt detached to take the stairs up your apartment complex, real stairs. To hear his footsteps stop just in front of your door. He's never seen them from this side. He rang your bell and waited.

Soon your unfocused face showed up in the creak that emerged when you opened the door.

"What's the matter?" Finally you looked at who was disturbing you late in the afternoon. You looked the man up and down, he was not anyone you knew but also not a stranger.

"Let me in or I'll come later through your window." Bakugo grunted under his breath like someone was about to eavesdrop.

"No way." Your mouth hung open as you gave him another look before fully opening your door.

He quickly went inside, shoving hands into his pockets, feeling out of person. It was utterly stupid what he was doing.

"I'd never say you'd have piercing. I mean, I did thing you would be blonde but the piering and tatoos? Not a chance I'd guess that." The man heard your laugh from behind him as you navigated through your apartment. "Tea? I don't normally drink coffee at this hour, I can't fall asleep later."

"Mhm." He mumbled out looking around your place. He knew it well but felt as if he was here for the first time. It all looked so different, so much more real when he could finally touch it.

You placed two steaming mugs on the small table in the centre of your living room. Well, the cramped students apartment was whole a big living room but it was not important for him. You were the thing he came here for.

"So what'cha wanna do?" You plopped down on a could, holding up your knees to your chin.

He started to visit you even more often. Sometimes he 'stayed the night' falling into a deep slumber on your couch and emerging in a golden hue. You wanted to see it but it came out you spotted shit, expecting a witch-like transformation. Instead you blinked and there were two Bakugo in your room. It still blew your brain of course. You would babble about your day, what went on at the university, what your co-worker did at luch, how your friend got a new dog until the moment you fell asleep, Bakugo watching you all the time.

Before he had the opportunity to accept it, he was already living for those nights with you.

Every second he spent alone he was thinking about you. Sitting lonely in his poorly furnitured apartment, strolling up and down the street, floating through the night air. All this time he waited for your next meeting.

"How does your life look like Katsuki?" You felt relaxed enough to ask him such a question, though he had to admitt you were not one to hide your feelings or shy away from hard topics.

"It's..." He didn't want to pause but finding the right word came out difficult. "It's fucking long."

"I bet." You giggled. "How long have you been alive?"

"A long time."

"The XIX century or more like medieval times?" You gave him a scrutinising glance, scratching your chin.

"The fuck you wanna know that?"

You just shrugged in response.

The two of you sat on your small balcony, late in the night. Normally Bakugo and you would be asleep by now. You deep in a real slumber and him wandering your apartment like he owned it. Today it was different. Bakugo didn't feel like waking up in his celestial body. He didn't like the idea of loosing the ability to smell your shower gel and feel your weight on the opposite side of the couch. Now you were looking up, into the starry sky, laying your chin on your knees, hiding in your way too big sweater.

"I can't imagine eternity. I feel like a single semestr on the university is taking forever. How do you manage like that?" You look him in the eye. "What do you live for Katsuki?"

He didn't want to say it because it means he can loose everything earlier. If he won't say it then he can still come to your place, without earlier notice, without care because he's a celestial being and he has this whole world up his ass. He can leave it like it is, let it breathe longer before it suffocates under the weight of his being. He can finally have something in his life if he only keeps his mouth shut.

"Now I live for you."

You blinked a few times.

"Now?"

He shrugged, a small pitful laugh escaping his throat. "Someday you'll be gone." He turned to face you. "So now I live for you. Someday I'll live for nothing."

Again.

It was hard to properly process what came out of the unerthly, lucid creature that Bakugo was but it all became more clear once he pushed you into the cold tiles of your balcony. He was more physical than you could ever imagine.

Bakugo was there all the time, close to you, waiting for you, cheering on you and loving you. Sometimes you felt guilty for it, knowing that one day you'll go and you will never feel anything again but he'll stay here for eternity.

He knew, Bakugo knew about it but every second that you gave his life a meaning was worth it.

#katsuki bakugo #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki

[lost-between-letters]

I'm Not Sick

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader (she/her)

Requested by: @nancymcl

Prompts: “Get back in bed, you’re sick.” - “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Just breathe.”

Warnings: mentions of sickness, the beginnings of a panic attack (or at least what I experienced as one in a mild form)

Word Count: 820

Summary: someone's got the flu and is not happy about it (hint: it's Dean). Naturally, Y/N has to convince him to take care of himself.

A/N: I don't know if this is entirely comprehensive or even living up to the prompts but oh well. I like it

It had started out innocently enough. A few coughs here, a hidden sneeze there. Just a scratchy throat, no biggie.

Only that 'no biggie' turned into a silly little monster called 'flu'. That thing where you were supposed to stay in bed and let people coddle you.

Not swinging a machete. And yes, Y/N had learned that the hard way.

Yeah well, tell that Dean Winchester.

"I'm fine!" He insisted nasally, eyes barely able to track her movements as she reached over to feel his forehead. He was burning up.

Y/N studied his pale face pointedly. Followed a beat of sweat from his hair line to his neck. Dean was definitely running a fever.

"You don't look fine."

"But I am," he insisted and swung his legs over the bed, making to stand up.

Even from behind, Y/N could tell that the fast movement wasn't doing him any favours. Dean was swaying on his feet by the time he was standing straight. Of course, he was too stubborn to admit to it openly.

"You're not fooling anyone with the way you're supporting yourself on the night stand," Y/N pointed out softly and got up as well, "get back in bed, Dean. You're sick."

"'s jus' a little cold," he said and promptly started coughing.

It wasn't stopping this time. Long enough for Y/N to round the bed and pat his back, hoping to get him back to breathing.

When he eventually got enough air into his lungs, Y/N gave him the best bitchface Sam had taught her. "Just a little cold?"

"I'm-"

"Get your ass back into this bed Winchester or I'm sicking Sam on you," she threatened.

That worked. With indignant grumbling, Dean got under the covers.

Y/N couldn't resist on tugging them a little higher and leaning over to place a kiss on his heated cheek. "I'll get you something to eat, okay?"

"I can do that myself, you don't need to-" uncontrollable coughing interrupted him once more. This time it sounded like something was caught in Dean's throat. That something snowballed as his eyes fixated on a point behind her head.

Y/N didn't know what was happening but she knew that she had to do something to help him. So she got him to sit up, hoping that his lungs were just too tightly squeezed together. But that wasn't working either.

Dean was just gasping shallowly, a panicked expression crossing his face as the oxygen didn't seem to stick. And that scared Y/N more than anything else.

"It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Just breathe."

Y/N was leaning over him, hands hovering where he could see them as she took deliberate slow breaths. She just hoped that it would guide him enough to get back into the rhythm.

While fending off her own panic attack. What was happening? Why was Dean reacting that way? It surely couldn't be just the fact that he had caught something, could it?

Eventually it worked. Dean's muscles relaxed and he fell back into the pillows, face paler than ever but his breathing pattern back on track.

"Baby?" She asked tentatively, hands just shy of touching his face.

"'m sorry," he mumbled, and then, "shouldn't have been stupid like that."

"You're not stupid," Y/N said quickly and cupped his cheek, "what happened?"

"Stupid fever happened," Dean grumbled - or maybe his voice was just that wrecked. The fact alone that he admitted to being sick proved just how shaken he was.

And that in return shook her. God, her mind was a goddamn domino tower.

Y/N waited for him to elaborate this time.

"It's just-" Dean waved his arms around; a strangely helpless gesture on the hunter, "I thought I saw somethin' movin' behind you. Nd I can't do shit right now."

Oh.

"It's okay baby." It took all of Y/N's will power to not climb into his lap and cradle his head to her chest. Because that would likely jumpstart another coughing fit. But oh, she wanted to so badly. "Nothing can get us here. We're safe."

"I know that!"

Dean threw his hands up, agitation in every unwilling bone. And winced when it shot straight through his chest. "Told ya it was stupid."

"But it isn't," Y/N insisted. "It's sweet and a little overprotective and you, Dean."

"So-"

"If you say stupid one more time, I will spoon feed you for the next seventy two hours," Y/N threatened.

Because that was how they worked. If it wasn't her doing the threatening, it was Dean. To get her to eat, to get her out of the bathroom, whatever.

But right now, Dean was on the receiving end. And it worked.

"Fine, you torturess."

Y/N smiled sweetly. "And now you'll let me put a few pillows in your back and make you chicken soup."

Dean snorted. "Knock yourself out sweetheart."

Oh she was planning on exactly that.

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn reader insert

[anna1306]

After watching House of Wax I had to write something. Maybe I'll write more, but I need to think of ideas

Sinclair x Reader with a scar

Bo

Let's be honest, at the same time that he is attentive, he doesn't pay close attention to details.

Like, of course he noticed the way you stood with one side turned to him or how you shunned away from touches or how your smile was more nervous. But at first he didn't think of it much, more concentrated on plans they had for you and your friends. Anyone would be anxious about getting lost in the middle of nowhere with broken car. Nothing special.

But some time after Bo got the message from Lester about you. How you were softer than your so-called friends with their rude and offensive jokes. How you were almost shy, not looking straight into the face of others. How you were just different. Bo thought Lester went soft and was too fixated to find someone for his brothers. Like they needed it.

But when he left the group to 'finish his business before helping the group', he started noticing it, watching you from the shadows. How you stood more to the side. How the whispers of others made you fix your hair and hide yourself behind it. Bo suddenly understood that he really didn't see one side of your face. He realised what his younger brother was talking about. And he wanted to know what was going on.

His plans were slowly changing.

You were really softer than others. You were kinder. Also this friendship wasn't very strong. You were naive to the point where you believed him when he said that he didn't know where your friend went. And that was why it was so easy to detach you from your group.

He didn't even have to grab you with force or use the chair. Sinclair just lured you back to the garage and to the basement, saying something about getting the tools he needed for the car. You had to look around the basement one time before you turned around in panic.

That's when Bo saw it.

The scar, that was on the side of your face. It was faded, pale, but he could see it clearly, from your cheek, spreading through the corner of your eye and to the forehead.

Scars weren't rarity, especially not to him, not to his family. It was everything that he saw in you, besides the traces of something bad, that made him anxious. Even if he grew numb to feelings of the visitors, this was way too... Way too reminiscing of his brother that was victim of stupidity and rudeness of others. Way too reminiscing of his own faults and bad things. And the way you always covered it, hid it, muttering some apologies while at it... Like you were in fault of others stares or discomfort.

It seemed that now you too became more scared of the fact that he saw your face, than of the whole situation around. You immediately pushed hair to your face, but this movement made Bo snap out of his thoughts. In a moment he crossed the gap between you and grabbed your hair, tilting your head back. You shut your eyes, instinctively grabbing his shoulder.

If I see one more time that you try to cover it, I will cut your hair and tie you down, understood, babydoll?

You opened your eyes and looked at him. Something inside his rotten chest shivered at the mix of concern, surprise and something warm, like a glint of hope in your eyes. He slowly let go of your hair, putting a hand on your neck. Bo didn't choke you, but put enough pressure for you to stumble back under his persistence. Only when you sat on the chair he stopped, looming over you, but making no attempt in tying you down. Some voice in his head told him he had enough of seeing traces of pain on you.

Now be a good person and sit right here. Don't you dare go somewhere or try and find a way out. I will lock you up here and come for you later. Before that sit still. I know that you can do that for me without me forcing ya, right? You better not disappoint me, darlin.

Vincent

He was afar. Like always. Watching from the shadows, ideas of future scenes and clothes for sculptures and other things already playing in his head.

Bo's show always let him make up his mind of who would go where at the house. One by one, it didn't matter to him how people would go down. He almost had a list in his mind, that he mentally checked.

You were one of the figures he placed on the scene in his mind. It didn't matter that he didn't see you up close, the wax would cover every flaw there was.

But Sinclair was more attentive than his brothers. Immediately he noticed your body language. Tensed up, trying to be smaller than others, with one side always hiding from sight. With a hood on, even if it was hot summer in the street. How you didn't look at others, how your laughter was almost strained. Some of it he had seen in his brothers since they were kids and that's how he knew that something was wrong. He had to know what exactly, so he could make a great scene. He wanted to make you a perfect doll.

Vincent got distracted by his chores for some time. One by one new 'canvas' got into his basement, whether by his own hands or by help of Bo. But as his twin got busy with one of others victims, he remembered your figure. And the screams of someone his brother had tied to his chair not so long ago.

He had his own secret path to the basement of the garage. Bo didn't have to know about this, Vincent let him think that he has some privacy from him, even if it was a mere illusion.

When one of the dark walls moved, you whimpered louder, especially when tall man with a mask covering his face showed up through the gap.

Vincent took in your tied up figure. His mind was still fixated on placing you in the right scene in the House. But something on your tear-streaked face got his full attention.

He went closer to you. With one hand Vincent slowly pushed hair from your wet forehead, opening your face to him. And immediately he froze on his spot.

There was a scar. Near your eye, a nasty one, old scar. It was spread on your cheek and forehead. Paler than your skin, making it hard not to notice, even if he could see the attempts to hide it with the makeup, the residue of powder still lingering on it. More so... It was on the same side of face as his was.

He touched your cheek with the tips of his fingers, feeling the scar. You shivered under his eyes, staring at his expressionless mask. You couldn't know what to expect from him or from this place anymore. Vincent absent-mindedly touched his own mask, looked into your teary eyes and raised his knife, making you squeal in fear.

With one swing he cut the tape on your wrist, then on the other one. He didn't dare to cut the restraints themselves, being too afraid of Bo's reaction. It took him couple of minutes to free you from them. You were shivering the whole time he did all of this, as you couldn't understand what he wanted from you.

Vincent took you to his secret path. He didn't let you walk, obviously, keeping the tape on your mouth and legs. He just threw you over his shoulder, walking with you through the tunnels, filled to the brim with strange mix of emotions and thoughts.

You didn't dare to move, clutching his back as you were bouncing on his shoulder with every step. You were too afraid to try and run away or kick him. Your legs were still tied up, your head was pounding from your hysteria from earlier, and your heart was beating out of your chest.

Finally you found yourself in some kind of a workshop, and you couldn't help but feel panic rush over you again. He was definitely going to kill you, you were sure of it.

Vincent dropped you on his bed, turning away from you, looking for something. Frantically you reached for the tape on your legs, pulling it away, trying to set yourself free, panic making you anxiously do at least something.

It took him a minute to notice your actions, he growled something shortly and returned to you instantly. Not listening to your whimpers, he forcefully took your hands in his. In a matter of minutes you were chained up to some pipe.

You struggled against the handcuffs, but the man offered little to no comfort. He grabbed your face with one hand making you freeze in place. He slowly touched your scar, brushing your hair away. Again. And then reached for something on the floor near him.

You heard him shuffling with something, but you couldn't see it behind his figure. Finally Vincent turned and showed you a paper with big, black, bulky letters scribbled on it. They formed simple words.

Mine. Stay here.

Lester

He noticed you from the start. He may seem like stupid redneck, and he was for the most part carefree, unlike Bo and not a genius, like Vincent was. But he noticed most of the things. Like how you were shy and almost hid from him behind your friends. Or how you smiled at his dark joke. Lester hoped you would go with him.

Your friends stayed behind, deciding to send you with "a creep" and not risk it themselves so his hopes were heard, and you sat next to him in his truck. Lester glanced at you from time to time, chatting about something meaningless. He didn't care that you didn't turn to him fully.

"I always forget that you can smell this in the beginning, got already used to it, y'know." Lester noticed your facial expression and laughed.

"It's fine. I lived with my brother, it was way worse than this, like someone actively was dying there for a year." He laughed at your joke, but still opened his window to let the air in.

"Is your brother with you here?" Lester asked out of pure interest. You were cute, but weird in your own way. He liked it a lot, but deep inside knew what was going to happen anyway.

"No. He left a long time ago, hasn't talked to him in years." You shrugged, looking around his car with a sad smile.

"Oh, sounds like shit." He scowled. Lester couldn't put on sympathetic face for the sake of it, being not too expressive. But you just shrugged it off.

"Don't think about it. He lives his own life now and I honestly think it's... Oh my god, is it a knife?" He glanced at you, noticing your stare at his hip. Lester grinned, licking his lips excitedly.

"Yap. My hunting knife." He took it out, showing it to you. You smiled and reached out to touch it.

"Can I look at it closer?" Lester suddenly noticed blush on your cheek and grinned. He gave the knife to you, glancing at you from time to time, enjoying your enthusiasm.

"This is so awesome... I like the blade, it's so wide." You looked at it with visible joy, turning it from side to side. Lester liked the view more and more with every second. You brushed your hair behind your ear to look closely at the knife and the man finally understood everything.

"Wow, what the hell is up with your face?" Even if this side was still more away from him, he could see the big pale scar very clearly from his spot. You stiffened immediately and lowered your head, hiding your scarred cheek.

"Nothing, sorry..." Your voice immediately grew duller and quieter. You turned away, returning him his knife, all joy of the moment gone.

Lester cursed at himself silently. He didn't want to ruin the mood. Usually he was the one that others laughed at. He was the one at the receiving end of jokes. He wasn't an angel in any way, but he didn't like hurting anyone nice to him. Even if only people close to him were his brothers. But Lester didn't know how to calm you or get your mood up, he wasn't very good with people or emotions. He chewed on his lip a bit and showed his hand to you.

"Tried to fight some dipshit and sliced my finger." Lester turned his most scarred finger to you. "Almost cut it off completely. I whined like a bitch for the whole day" He chuckled. Your face was still tensed, but your eyes softened.

"Does it still hurt?" You asked him quietly, raising your eyes at him.

"Nope. Yours?" He met your eyes, but you shook your head, anxiety slowly lifting from your shoulders. "Good. The other one on my ass though, hurts like shit sometimes."

"On your what?! How did you even..." You exclaimed in surprise, but was cut short when he suddenly hit the breaks.

"Sorry, forgot that this part of the road isn't available. But the town is just behind this corner." He looked over you again. The sudden thought about you was interesting. You were too sincere, too nice, too infatuating. He knew what would happen to you in Ambrose, but something inside of him didn't want it. Neither did he want you to leave. Sinclair climbed out of the car and opened your door, helping you out, while rethinking everything again.

"Thanks a lot. You are a miracle, Lester." You smiled and hesitated for a moment. But before the man could ask what was wrong, you kissed him on the cheek. His heart skipped a beat, watching your smile. You blushed, turning away and putting your hood on, while the man watched you go.

"There is a person, coming in the town for some car part. Please... Don't hurt them." Lester called Bo immediately after you turned the corner.

"The hell? Fucking smell stuck inside your nose so much you stopped thinking?" The reaction of the elder Sinclair was expected.

"I didn't stop thinking. There are other people not so far away from here, these shits are free to go, I'll send the coordinates. But they... They're good. They called me a miracle." The man smiled absent-mindedly, softening his tone. He heard a sigh on the phone.

"You definitely hit your empty stupid head... Fine." Lester scoffed to himself. He knew what tone was working on his brothers exactly. He rarely asked something of them, being the most independent one, and for him to ask something like that... "What they look like?" Lester grinned, starting the car again.

You'll know when you see them. They are perfect.

#house of wax #house of wax imagine #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #bo x reader #Vincent x reader #lester x reader #sinclair x reader #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Stabbed and Salacious [6]

*****Here's your warning. Be on guard.*****

The start to my stream with Ash, Larry, Sally, and Todd tonight has been uncomfortably... serene.

When I imagine any scenario with Sally involved, that's not a feeling I can even think of associating with him. So the simple fact that he's not addressing me too much and that he has a cheery lilt to his voice makes me feel nearly sick with anxiousness.

He must be smug about my obvious loss on Discord earlier. 

Not to mention, after I got caught, everyone dipped out of the chat and I didn't even bother defending myself. How would I even come back from that? But at the same time, I'm filled with this incredible need for a vendetta. I don't know how to save myself from this.

What's worse is my stupid attraction to this godawful Sally Face has only grown. I find myself flinching at every single word he says because it sounds different tonight. Maybe I'm still recovering from his photo, or maybe I'm not even that crazy. Maybe he's making his voice sound so seductive on purpose.

Definitely a possibility.

"Come on out, my little victims," Sally face purrs. His words are purposeful and absolutely vicious. I never should have gotten on tonight. To say that I'm quaking in my seat while I try to get a handle on this game (which is new to me) is the understatement of the century. I can't help but roll my eyes at myself for being so ridiculous.

Earlier, we started our streams with a couple rounds of Among Us and, surprisingly, Minecraft. Now we're all playing the Friday the 13th game and Sally's playing Jason. What fantastic luck.

I'm trying to hide wherever I possibly can with what time and mobility I have. It's my first time playing and I have no idea how to work anything. I don't even quite know how the game works, so I'm open bait to the one man who wants revenge on me most in this world.

Not only am I fighting for my life, I'm fighting for my dignity. My head is just above the water in this sticky situation I've gotten myself roped into and I need a good win to keep my head above water right now. Otherwise, I'll have to pull a y/n and change my name again. It's what I'm good at.

"I think I saw a little foot over there," Sally murmurs, more so to himself. The statement makes me stiffen up though and I stand completely still in the wide open spot I'm in on the map. He could be talking about anyone, but under the assumption that he's talking about me, I think my best option is to stop moving altogether.

Still, I bite my lip nervously as I wait, listening to the sound of my rapid heartbeat that only grows stronger as the seconds pass. Not a word is spoken between our group and the ensuing silence only makes my internal panic even worse. 

My heart is screaming at me to keep moving in case Sally sneaks up on me, but my brain is trying to rationalize everything and tell me that I need to relax. 

The thing is that the few sane parts of me know that the odds have been against me since the second I got involved with Sally. In truth, I was fucked from the start.

But I don't hear any footsteps around me. Nothing's happening.

So I follow my heart's rushed commands and start moving slowly, looking for a new spot to run to and hide.

A hum reverberates through my headphones and a rush of air leaves my body. I'm so suddenly tense that my stomach aches as it turns in on itself. My head is filled with waves of thoughts and emotions that just can't grasp at the sound I've heard. And deep on the inside, all of my organs are raging over the thought that I wasn't able to hear that in person, and that I won't be able to hear something as pretty as that again.

It had to have come from Sally-- the pitch and tone matched him perfectly, even the slight rasp to his clear voice. 

I take a deep breath, trying to keep it as quiet as possible as I attempt to dispel my overwhelming thoughts that are doing their best to drown every little bit of my mind. 

"I know you're there, Larry," Sally drawls. "I love a chase. Don't you dare hide from me." A low, short chuckle follows his words before he says, "Run."

I bring a hand to my lips, cussing quietly over my slightly trembling fingers. 

Never in my life have I ever been so spell-bound and wonderstruck by just a few words. There has to be some kind of rhyme, reason, or magic behind the art. Especially since it's Sal. He must know the logistics of the perfect sound, frequency, and longevity of each syllable he speaks in order to make him sound so alluring. 

Paying too close attention to his words is the equivalent to trying to pet a wild tiger. It's beautiful, enchanting even and you feel drawn, but the bite isn't going to be worth it.

But the overwhelming desire to indulge in my desperation and yearning is quite literally incriminating to my heart and mind. I shouldn't get too close to him or his appealing nature. It'll only get me into trouble in the end.

So I cross my legs, gulp down the urge to make bad decisions while recording a live stream, and run off to a new place at the sound of Larry's frantic cackles.

Larry gets killed, of course. It's a fun moment where he runs past me, screaming bloody murder and laughing hysterically in fear the entire way. I watch from the shadows as Sally chases after him, light giggles following his form.

From there on, Ash and Todd get killed too. And then it's just Sally and I alongside a few other counselors who are running for their lives.

But I know he's looking for me.

I've been hiding for an eternity, waiting for Sally to grow tired of looking for me so he'll plow through the other players. Hopefully I can just find my way out of here.

I have a bad habit of treating this game like Dead By Daylight. I have an inkling of a feeling that I can actually survive, but I probably won't be able to.

A quick, anxious glance at my stream shows over seven thousand people watching me. My viewers have gone up significantly and it irks me a bit knowing I can't talk to them while being pursued by Sally.

"Come on out, bitch," Sally lazily says. It's a lot easier to ignore his attractive attributes when he treats me like this, so for once, I don't mind the insult. At least it's not his distractingly charming voice and words.

Still, my eye twitches a bit as I hold my breath, noting the moment he passes by me. I hope I've blended into the shadows well enough, simply waiting for the moment I can get him away then run to victory.

His feet move a bit farther away from me and I close my eyes, not realizing that a rush of adrenaline has spiked because of my near death experience. Crazy how this game gives me such realistic reactions.

"You're around here somewhere and I'm aching to get some blood on my hands," Sally slowly says, an amused sway to his deep voice that sounds as harmonic and entrancing as an electric guitar and bass playing perfectly at the same time.

Fuck this guy.

I don't say a word as I watch him saunter off in the opposite direction from me.

Once I feel that he's far enough away, I bite my tongue and crawl out of my hiding spot. I have a clear shot to victory, I just need to not screw up. And if I snap at Sally due to an unjust stroke of confidence, I'll fuck myself over. It's better to let him have this little victory for now because, overall, I'm leaving Camp Crystal Lake alive, motherfucker.

I turn slightly, setting my sights on a car not too far away from me. I just need to get there and fix it, then I'll be on my way.

My character ambles over and my chest aches with every step out in the open. The ominous darkness and eerie noises as well as the knowledge of a killer close by fills me with unease. Anything could happen and being too imbedded in the game-- like I'm actually walking through a scary forest myself-- is dangerous. 

The last thing I want to do is scream loud enough for my neighbors to hear it or terrorize myself too badly.

I shake my head, trying to remind myself that I won't be hurt. I only need to win.

My neck is cool with sweat and I pinch my lips together, curling my knees up to my chest as I grow more apprehensive upon reaching the car.

But a damn knife flies into my back. An alarmed squeal leaves my lips as I jump in my seat and lean forward, making my character run for its life. Fuck the car, I can hide out for a while longer.

A menacing chortle that quickly grows closer sends chills through my body and I huff out quick breaths, trying to weave in and out of trees. I break into a full sweat and frantically wipe my clammy hands on my skirt, hoping I can actually get away from fucking Sally.

Another knife hits me, and then I'm enveloped in hands, looking into the zombified eyes of Jason Voorhees as he brutally pulls my jaw from the rest of my head. 

I lean back in my chair, listening to Sally's remorseless laughs as he looks down at my lifeless character. I'm filled with a violent fury that's incomparable to any other emotion I've felt in the past few days since working with this monstrosity.

"I think that's the most delicious blood bath I've seen all game," Sally says, a deep chuckle following and increasing the heat in my glare that no one can see. "A vendetta completed."

"Fucking dick," I seethe quietly, knowing he won't hear me anyway right now. He still has other counselors to kill.

My boiling anger increases a notch or two while watching Sal diligently and slowly take out every other player in the game. 

My tongue runs over the front of my teeth and my jaw is clenched tightly. I want to beat him at this game so badly but I just keep losing. He's hardly even trying to fight me all that much because it's so easy for him to overpower me-- that pisses me off. I'm tired of letting him come out victorious. My turn is long overdo.

I let my hands drop to my table and my eyes languidly wander across the screen as another counselor dies. 

With a groan, I lift a hand to rub my eyes, scrunching up my face in irritation. How is he pinching every single nerve of mine? He's like a crab claw that won't let go of my finger-- a painful fucking burden.

I hold all this anger toward him. I've focused it into one laser beam directed at him and I'm counting down the immeasurable days until I'm able to finally get everything out and beat him down with my words. 

And yet, I still dig my palms into my eyes at the sound of his laugh, readjust my skirt, cross and uncross my legs, talk myself through the endless fluttering in my stomach. I even have to hold back smiles at his clever phrases and slick tongue. 

Wish I had his slick tongue in my mouth, speaking of which, but I'd also genuinely like to punch him in the face.

Battling the desire to have him in any way I can alongside my deep vexation for the asshole is exhausting. I kind of just want to sleep on this entire situation, leave it for me to stress over tomorrow.

Why does he have to be hot, smooth, and an asshole? Why couldn't he have been sweet and kind like he was to Lexi?

By the way, I'm just beginning to accept that he's never going to call or text Lexi. I'm not sure if I'm happy or ticked about that. On the one hand, if he would call Lexi and express some interest, I could fuck this attraction out of my system. On the other hand, him messaging Lexi would out me immediately. He could find out my phone number from Ash, Larry, or Todd and that's some fire that I don't want to mess with.

"That's a win for me," Sally sighs out pridefully, gaining my attention again. The game has ended.

"You're fucking... damn," Larry breathes, seemingly at a loss for words. "You're too good. I don't want you to play a killer ever again."

"Hey, maybe it's just in my genes. Not my fault you can't compete with this skill," Sally boasts, humming contently to himself. Fuck, I wish he'd stop doing that. It feels like his voice circles me and leaves me caged in the memory of that stupid sound.

"I'd hope not," Todd scoffs lightly. "I'm getting off for the night though, so I'll see everyone when we get on again."

We tell Todd goodbye, then Larry goes not too long after him. With the three of us left, we end our streams too, but I stick around while Ash and Sally chat.

Truth be told, I'm not quite sure what I'm waiting for. Maybe a chance to bitch at Sal or maybe it's just to hear his hypnotizing voice for a bit longer.

"Are you going to get off or what?" The sudden snarky tone makes me focus in on Ash and Sally's conversation that had been drowned out by my thoughts for a bit.

Ash is quiet, the only sign of her presence being a muffled groan. That clearly tells me that the dickhead himself is talking to me.

"Oh, shut up," I bite out, squinting my eyes at my computer screen. "I'm not even bothering you."

"Your presence pisses me off. Leave," he simply replies, his delicious voiced tainted with nonchalance and agitation. 

"You're such a dick," I spit out venomously once I can't come up with anything else to say. Knowing that he has an advantage over me yet again is making my chest bubble with barely contained anger.

I glare down at the microphone that Ash was kind enough to send me years ago when she and I used to run around our map in Seven Days to Die. Usually, the device brings me memories of joy, but tonight I can't gain any positive feelings from it.

"And you're a foul-mouthed bitch," Sally Face replies, his voice seemingly more amused than angered. Though, I can definitely detect some aggravation in there.

His response makes me itch. I haven't said more than maybe three words to him tonight-- before we started arguing of course. So where does he find the audacity to call me foul-mouthed?

I snort. "Yea, okay. So what does that make you then? A stuck-up nobody? Your fans only know the idea of you." 

My pickings are slim and I'm just grabbing onto any little option I have. I know I'm practically fighting fire with gasoline considering Sally doesn't show himself for his own personal reason, but I have my own reasons too. I can push his buttons on the topic because hitting me in the same place and on the same level wouldn't be enough to top the damage I did. He's smart and methodic so he at least knows that much.

I suddenly notice that Ash is missing from our group call. She must have left.

Frowning, I lift my phone to send her a text and apologize. I'm even about to just hang up on Sally too. What's the point of arguing? It's only aggravating and it's not like he'll ever explain why he hates me so much.

But Sally Face grunts and the sound makes a flame of irritation light up inside me again. "The same goes for you, you fucking brat," he spits. "No one knows who you are. At least they see me-- I've never even seen anything above your neck."

"You'd be the last person to see me, asshole." My words come out quick and aggressive, I even lean closer to my computer, simmering with audible rage. "I don't know why you have such a problem with me," I continue despite knowing that my attempt to get any reasoning out of him is futile. 

How could I have fucked up twice with him and still not understand how? I've never even met him as y/n and he still can't stand either side of me, with the exception of Lexi, of course. I want to know what I did. Being the target of hate with no explanation maddens me beyond comprehension.

Honestly, he probably doesn't understand why the fuck he hates me either. He just dislikes  things and people out of spite. He hates because he's angry at or about something. He converts hurt feelings into negativity-- that has to be the reason why he's so aggressive and rude. What else could it possibly be?

Obviously, my spit-fire persona doesn't make his resentment toward me any better. I'm on his level and he can't win on command. He's still an open book so I can tell that losing our battles pisses him off too.

"You just show up out of nowhere and become besties with my group," Sally Face scoffs. "Like who the fuck are you? Did you pay Ash to play with you or something? You were nonexistent a week ago. I wish you'd have stayed that way. All you do is fucking bitch and yap like a little chihuahua."

That's a lead, one that I already had my suspicions about, in fact. That still doesn't justify his behavior though.

I bite my lip, my fingers quivering under the weight of my fury as I grip onto the edge of my desk. "If you weren't such an asshole, I wouldn't have to bitch and yap. All you do is talk over me." I gulp, licking my lips and trying to shake the fighting response out of my mind. I should just leave this alone for the night. I shouldn't entertain it at all. But I continue anyway. God only knows why. "It feels like you're constantly choking me--"

"You like that though, don't you?"

There's an almost unnoticeable difference in his voice. His tone is just a bit deeper, the connotations a tad darker, and he drags the words out slowly-- like each sound is a melody waiting to be sung. 

But the problem here is that I do notice, and I acknowledge the change. I don't know what to make of it.

I'm struck into silence, my voice dying out as I struggle to catch the breath that's rushed out of my lungs. Did I hear him right? I know I couldn't have heard differently-- his voice was loud and clear-- but it doesn't make sense. Something like that wouldn't come from him and be directed at me. Ever.

Or would it? 

I think back to the day I sent everyone photos of me. When Sally wouldn't answer and got really defensive over Larry's joke about him masturbating to my pictures.

What if Larry wasn't too far off?

...No. There's no way.

Like the intellectual that I am, I force out a breathless, "What?" 

At this point, I'm waiting for some kind of confirmation on whether my internal war is won or lost. His voice alone makes me feel hot with need, but I don't want to chase an impossible daydream just because he's trying to get a reaction out of me. Which, honestly, he probably just wants to dig my grave even deeper by getting me to admit that I'm attracted to him. Why else would he say that I'd like to be choked?

Sally Face hums, the sound making my heart thump against my ribcage. My head feels fuzzy, like my brain is bouncing around on a fuck ton of bean bags. I can't take in as much oxygen as I would like to; my breaths come out rushed and heavy. Worse, my cheeks burn with more fury than a thousand suns colliding all at once. But worst of all is that I'm falling into that fantasy anyway-- a fantasy where I get to have my way with this insolent man-- whether that way be pleasurable or destructive. 

But right now, I'm wondering if he'd like to choke me too.

"You seem like the type of woman who enjoys a hand around your throat. I'm sure you just love the idea of my hand being the one to leave you breathless."

Has he crawled into my head?

Sudden heat pools between my thighs. I shift, crossing my legs as I blink at my screen, unable to get a single word out.

He sounds intrigued, curious, and just a little annoyed. If anything, it seems he's testing the waters and trying to see what he can make out of the tense situation he's dragged us into.

I lick my lips, hoping to lubricate my dry mouth a bit. It feels as though all of the moisture has traveled down to my core despite how badly I wish I wouldn't respond to Sally like this. Fuck, I shouldn't feel this way.

The way he's speaking, so dirty and promiscuous, makes me feel differently about him for the first time in days. Acknowledging attraction is different from chasing dangerous opportunities.

Suddenly, I can see it. Most of all, I wish I could feel it. The way his ring clad fingers would squeeze my throat, leaving me breathless and begging for more. The way he'd ask me to beg-- we all know he would, he loves when people fall at his feet-- the way his cool skin would feel against me. How would he smell? Like cologne and shampoo maybe, musky but sweet. Or maybe he'd smell the same way he did when we first met.

I take a deep breath, choosing to remain silent as my hand inches toward my thigh. 

Hundreds of different thoughts race through my mind. Yea, maybe this is risky. But the way his voice alone has me dripping in an instant is just something I can't pass up. I can't even arouse myself this much, and Sally Face has managed to do it within two seconds. 

I have access to a pleasurably sick and twisted, possibly embarrassing, fantasy that I'll probably never get again. Ever. Because this is me and Sally Face-- two complete opposites.

No. I can't. I won't. I won't give him the satisfaction-- I won't give myself the satisfaction. I can handle up on the burning in my body and my raging pulse below later. 

I know he wants to damage my dignity, maybe even my reputation. He isn't being serious right now, he's just chasing another win in this longterm game we have going on.

"Your silence speaks numbers," Sally Face says, voice deep, raspy, and smooth. This is far different from the high pitched, aggressive voice he normally uses with me.

I keep trying to tell myself that he's just toying with me, trying to get some incriminating evidence of how fucking hot I think he is. But the way he speaks right now alongside his word usage is just dragging me further into the abyss of craving him even more.

He chuckles at my refusal to answer and the sound sends my brain into a frenzy. That's good. He's on top of his game tonight and it pisses me off, but turns me on all at the same time. How can someone do that? Talent like this shouldn't exist. It's incredibly dangerous.

The proof lies in the skirt bunched in my hands and the clenching of my thighs. Good God, how could just a laugh send me over the edge?

A whimper slips past my lips and I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that Sally didn't hear. It could have been interpreted as me crying or something, but it sounded far too lewd-- though I'd never admit it to anyone other than myself. More than anything, I want him to skip over whatever this is and let me wallow in my pitiful lust for him in peace.

Sally hums again and his next words make the decision that I couldn't force myself to take action on. 

"What a little slut," he seductively says, and I can feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. My mouth gapes and the insides of my thighs are soaked by now. What a fucking mess.

His voice drips with shameless desire, something I never could have expected, but fuck it sounds so good coming from him. "Are you touching yourself?" 

"No--" I rush to say with a raging blush on my cheeks. How could I do something like that over a call? Not to mention, how could I do it over him? I definitely thought about it, but there's no way I could do that.

But, if this is all real and his unhidden desire isn't a facade... if we're really going to cross a boundary...

"Listen, Vi," he starts darkly. My thighs clench together tightly and my eyes roll into the back of my head. Just his damn voice alone. "Maybe your words don't normally work for me, but in this situation, I need to hear them. Silence is out of the question, so I'll ask you again. Are you touching yourself?"

I shiver at his use of my nickname, my lips parting. Maybe I wasn't doing much touching beforehand, but now I want to be able to tell him yes. He's never called me by name before and hearing it now, during a time of such heightened emotions, makes me yearn for a chance to hear him moan. To know that he'll get some kind of pleasure from just the thought of me, just the sound of my voice. 

My teeth clamp down onto my bottom lip as I nervously spread my legs a bit, trailing a hand over the inside of my thigh. The light touch makes goosebumps erupt on my skin, but it fills me with a sense of urgency. I'm ready to chase a high I don't get too often.

My fingers run over my panties, the sensation of my cool digits finally touching my heat after craving some kind of release for the past hour or so is erotic. Compared to every other time I've done this, it feels so much different now. Every light touch has me shaking uncontrollably and I've hardly done anything yet. 

My hand dips into my underwear and the tip of my index finger ghosts over my clit as I test the waters, thinking of all the ways the man on the other side of this call can bring me to the most extravagant climax I'll ever see in this lifetime. If only I just give in and let him.

And I think I'll do just that.

"I am now." I finally answer him, the words coming out as a breathy moan as I apply pressure, beginning to move my index and middle finger in slow circles. 

Pleasure erupts within me like a volcano, sending sweet tingles up my spine and rapturing heat to every part of my body. Fuck, just admitting such a thing makes this ten times hotter and I never would've imagined I'd be into something like this.

Sally and I's current circumstances are insane. I didn't think something like this was possible and I'm absolutely raving over my slow-building movements and the thought of how this is going to play out.

My pussy is dripping, my fingers slick without even having to do much work. Sally Face is something else-- talented in ways that I never thought were possible.

I'm faintly able to hear as Sally sucks in a harsh breath, then the sound of a zipper. 

My heart skips a beat then picks up speed, pounding so powerfully that I can feel it in every inch of my body. My eyes widen as I pause my movements, my body almost jolting from the lack of contact. 

I immediately return my fingers to my clit, using more pressure than I did before. I flinch, tilting my head down embarrassedly as I continue moving my digits, indulging in the addictive feeling of bringing myself pleasure because no one can do it as well as I can, though I think Sally may end up being good competition.

I let out a quiet moan that dies out quickly, but I know he hears it.

"Good," he says breathlessly. "Keep doing that. Touch yourself for me-- and you better only think of me."

My eyes shut in ecstasy and I throw my head back, releasing another soft moan that isn't nearly as nerve-wracking as the first. My hand travels over my soaked pussy and my fingers are working faster, handling the ache that only continues to build up.

Sally groans on the other end of the call, a shuddering breath leaving his lips that I wish I could see-- that I wish I could feel. My fingers quicken their pace, rubbing against my bundle of nerves in the most compelling way.

I imagine his hand taking the place of mine, sending me into an endless wave of pleasure-- taking me to heights of debauchery I could never dream of. If anyone could do it, it would be Sally Face. I have no doubts about that.

"Tell me exactly how it feels," Sally grunts, his voice shaking with the force of what he's undoubtedly doing. Just the thought makes the aching in my lower stomach grow and I yearn to see the look on his face. I long to see his hand working along his member.

I can't believe I got this lucky. What's more unbelievable is the fact that I managed to convince myself to actually cross this line with him.

Still, I feel more than just shy when it comes to finding an answer to his demand. He knows what I'm doing, I wish he didn't want me to say it. I don't... think I can say it. Doing it is one thing, but explaining it is something else entirely.

He lets out a frustrated noise. "Say it or I'll leave the call," he threatens, sending me down an even more fucked up path than the one I was already traveling on. His voice is like melting ice, coated in slick and filthy promises, but the looming threat of ending this for good is hidden underneath.

I might rot in my own mind for the rest of time, but I'll do anything to keep this up.

Biting my lip, I drag my fingers down, slipping them between my wet folds before bringing them back up to my clit to continue the erotic pleasure that I'm combining with just the sound of his voice.

"It feels so damn good. I'm thinking of how you look right now. Wishing it was your hands on my pussy instead of my own," I moan out, shutting my eyes again as I readjust my sitting position.

I spread my legs wider, stretching my shoulders as I go faster, applying more pressure.

"Good girl," he says between the tantalizing sounds of his hand stroking his cock on the other end of the line. His breath hitches with every other intake of air, a grunt or a whimper following soon after. "Tell me how much you hate me."

I laugh softly through my quiet moans, a salacious type of exhilaration taking over me and robbing me of my ability to rationally think. I'm too excited, too deep in the sensation of his voice and the dirty things he's saying to me. The disgusting things he wants me to say and, even more, the appraisal he's given even though he holds such strong disapproval toward me.

My hand slides lower and my fingers slip into my heat, the feeling of being filled up making a strangled groan leave my lips. I curl my fingers, hitting my favorite spot that has me mewling like a kitten. And despite feeling amazing already, I wish he was doing this.

"I hate you so fucking much," I groan, my voice high pitched and purely lustful. "You piss me off and I hate that all I want to do is fuck you lately. You hot, aggravating piece of shit." My voice falls into a sinful giggle again as a smile pulls at my lips.

I'm getting so damn close way too damn quickly.

My body is hot and quakes as I focus in on Sally's filthy words and sounds of pleasure, alongside my own delicious movements. What I wouldn't give to be with him at this exact moment. 

I'm almost shocked by my own thoughts.

Sally moans beautifully, the sounds of his squelching movements picking up speed. "Fuck, that's hot," he seemingly chokes out between the force of his brutal pace and the overwhelming feeling that's taking over his body.

The added image of his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, bringing himself to climax just because of the sound of me-- the idea of me-- brings me one step closer to the edge.

I add a second finger to my dripping cunt, thrusting them into myself even faster than before. I'm almost to the peak, just getting to the edge.

"I hate you. I hate you so fucking much-- you have no idea," He says between gritted teeth before sucking in a strangled breath. "Which is why you're not allowed to cum. If you're so fucking desperate for it, you can wait until I have my hands on you."

A scoff leaves my lips and I only continue what I was previously doing, finding his command hilarious and attractive. Like hell I'll listen to him.

But I stop upon hearing Larry come into the call with an echoing scream.

I fly into a sitting position, my hand leaving its previous position. Harsh pants wrack my body as I shiver, growing aggravated over the pain of losing the climax I was so close to achieving. 

Sally's gone quiet too.

Fuck, did Larry hear us? Does he know what happened?

I'm quivering for an entirely different reason now, my flushed cheeks growing even warmer under the prospect of getting caught in the dirty act I stupidly agreed to. 

I... fuck. Did Sal and I really just do that? We must have. My fingers are soaked and so is my pussy. My heart is racing so quickly that I'm worried I'll flatline. My limbs are tense, slowly growing a bit sore as my orgasm continues to escape me. Not like I'll get that back tonight.

"Are you guys done arguing? Ash just told me you both haven't gone to bed yet and she left like ten minutes ago," Larry grumbles, adding a little giggle.

Oh, thank God. 

I swallow thickly, closing my eyes and leaning against the back of my chair again. I take a few breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. This situation could have turned out much differently, so I'm glad karma hasn't gotten me yet.

Surprisingly, I'm actually thankful that Sally wanted to be a dick in the middle of our erotic moment. It was like a heads-up for Larry's interruption.

I open my eyes, looking over at the discord call and... Sally's gone. He left.

An angry grin pulls at my lips as I chew on the inside of my cheek. That little bastard. 

________________

A/N:::::::::: holy fuck i'm so horrified to post this lmfao. I have never written actual smut in my life so using terms and situations i'm not used to is HARD (like sal's dick) but yeaaaa so i don't know if this is up to par? but hopefully i'll get more comfortable and slowly start to get better at it with time :3

fun fact: i had this smut scene written before i even wrote the first chapters of the story. this entire story is based on this one scene. i had to do some major editing to it since i actually developed a true plot since writing this, but i'm hoping it's improved (which i think it has) since i originally wrote it. 

anyway, i'm asking for feedback tonight! i know i need to improve my smut-writing skills so give me some tricks and tips please <3

as always, i love you all with my entire heart and i'm forever thankful for all the love and support! thank you all for reading <333

#sally face fandom #sally face #sal fisher #sally face fanfiction #fem reader #smut #enemies to lovers #larry johnson #todd morrison #travis phelps #ash campbell

[scoobydoodean]

every so often I see a deancrit post that makes me believe dean girls should be allowed to maim and bite and kill fr....idk how you find the strength to combat the nonsense because I saw a post so insane this morning that I had to get up and take a walk outside to calm down. all that to say: thank you for defending our boy because I wish I could do it but I get so upset I can't even string sentences together let alone write such eloquent rebuttals the way you do 🩷

❤️ Oh believe me I get it. I used to talk to people in the SPN subreddit jbdzfjshbjfhb. Deancrits have made posts that make me see so red I'm like Doom Guy on the last dredges of his health (if they aren't making me laugh my ass off) but they are very rarely in my face these days. My dash is a blessedly dean-positive space full of sexy people making sexy posts. I definitely recommend building yourself a nice curated dash and blocking or filtering whoever you need! You do NOT have to be in the trenches.

A lot of the cataloguing content of the blog is based on pervasive fanon opinions I have simply been here long enough to know about. Deancrits almost always just reinvent the same tired arguments, so that works in my favor. Thankfully, I don't have to expose myself to opinions I don't like in order to build up the collections I am building... though I certainly do fixate on certain collections when crits get nasty in my notifs or the notifs of the people I follow.

One thing I recommend, when you do start to feel mad, is to quickly identify what about a post stands out as making you the most angry. I think you'll often find that at the center of it, almost always, is "This person made an argument that ignores all context and is in such bad faith that it actively infuriates me", or "That literally never happened. They just made that up and everyone is just believing them!" But the thing is... as soon as you realize they said something really really stupid... it can quickly become extremely funny—a big huge joke. Laughter is excellent medicine. As soon as you see the humor in something, it becomes incredibly un-intimidating and your mind is usually cleared of a lot of the clutter your rage inspired, so you can simply focus on dispensing with what was said that was so very silly.

I'll be honest though. I greatly benefit from the fact that I am so annoying on my own page talking to myself and my mutuals and followers that a lot of deancrits I've never spoken to or heard of in my life have blocked me, and they are, overwhelmingly so full of shit that when the remaining dredges decide to stumble their way onto my blog and cry about my posts I just end up laughing my ass off at the mental gymnastics they've contorted themselves into to get the ideas they spew at me.

I mean sorry to be a huge sanctimonious dick about crits, but I'm not the one whose perpetually gone on their blogs and posts and started commenting obnoxious drivel like a pompous ass. I don't exactly have great opinions on a group of people I've mainly been exposed to through condescending tags and replies and comments and hate mail, through ridiculous and outright offensive claims about my irl character based on what fictional characters I like, through harassment campaigns launched against various people, and through their attempts to bully people off the internet.

#mail #dont feed the stans after midnight

[plushenjoyer]

People tend to be weirdly opposed to this. I strongly encourage these people to find real problems. There are so many to choose from, really. No, this thing in particular does not count as a real problem. If you are super opposed to this specific thing at a higher degree than other, actual issues, then maybe you should look inside yourself in search of your own shortcomings, officer. Didn't know the Toys Police has a quota they haven't met. You'll have to pry my synthetic little dudes out of my cold, dead hands u fuckn nobody 🤍

My pronouns are it/its or they/them. I am in my late twenties.

Low sexual energy, low expectations. I'm autistic. My fixation is likely due to traumatic circumstances and my belongings being constantly thrown out as a child without my permission— especially toys which were my only source of comfort at the time. But my guess as to why I tend to fall in love with them is as good as anyone else's. There is also to be considered the fact that they are soft, which is probably most of the reason.

🔞Adults only, period. Goes without saying. I talk about mature themes here. Anyone not supposed to be here needs to shoo immediately. Out with you. Make like a banana and split. Hit the road, jack

Don't be creepy at me. People usually make advances at me because I am inflicted with "being conventionally attractive" so I turn them down because unfortunately for them, and me, they are not plushies. Them's the breaks. Unless they feel similarly and I happen to feel like sharing. And if there's an extra hole. Just don't get any funny ideas about mine..

Also, I'm not interested in how some pissant rando gets their rocks off— don't ask me my opinions regarding paraphilia, paragliding, pairs of pants, pears, don't ask about anything regarding anyone else's sex deals. Ask me about plushies because I have a hard time thinking of absolutely any another type of thing in the world that I value. I'm a well adjusted wackjob who goes to work and comes home and has breakfast (the only other positive thing that life has to offer) and falls asleep in a big bed with my inanimate spouses. I just plain won't have any idea what you're on about if you have "twisted stuffiefucker" in your "Do Not Interact". Wasn't planning on it. I bang stuffed animals. This isn't rocket science. If you really want to know something, ask I guess? I'm just being mean right now because this intro is directed at no one in particular and I'm not actually very intimidating. It's just fun for me to write like this. Remember, I refuse to fuck anything but plush toys? ...I guess that probably doesn't help for everyone though, huh

Posts will be tagged with #objectum #plushum and #plushophilia even though that last term is no good and I personally think it sounds awful.

Probably won't end up posting actual smut here. I have tw*tter for that. That's what that entire shithole is for. You can ask for it, if you are so inclined.

I'll start posting now. Ask box will probably be open. No stupid questions! No, I mean it. Good questions only please. Okay thanks.

#objectum #plushum #plushophilia #plushophile

[inertflouride]

Turmoils of you- Part 1

Episode 10 references ⚠️

Summary: Instead of Jake, it is MC who decides to go to the mines to save Hannah and Richy. But will Jake allow that to happen?

Warnings: Swearing, TW- kidnapping, drugging (I can't think of more)

This is my first time writing a fanfic or a public writing piece, so well, do share how did you find it. Hehe.

UNKNOWN IS ONLINE

Unknown: I will let them both go, under one condition

MC: What is the condition?

Unknown: I want you to come to Duskwood

MC: How stupid do you think I am?

Unknown: Nobody will get hurt

MC: You can't possibly be serious

UNKNOWN IS NOW OFFLINE

"You've got to be fucking kidding me", I scoff and toss my phone towards the edge of the bed. The moment he texted me, all I wanted to do was inform Jake and the group about this, tell them the audacity of this bonehead's request. I held my head in my palms, amidst my worsened migraine, contemplating over how to go about it when something crosses my mind. "What if I do go to Duskwood?", I straighten up, "Maybe I can bring an end to all this mess." I knew for a fact that Jake would never let me do that, even if Hannah's life was on the line. He even went to the extent of making me promise him that I would never come to Duskwood.

So, obviously, I didn't want him to know, nor did I wish to tell the group about this because I don't know how but every time I tell them something, this Michael guy comes to know about it too. As for Jake, he should not have read the messages Michael has send, yet, since he still would be busy with the attempts to extract something from the live stream of his sister and Richy. So if I am planning to go, now is my chance.

I went offline and started packing, mainly only food necessities and extra batteries. I mean what if I somehow got stuck in those dark mines? Every moment was feeling more or less like a suicide mission if I'm being completely honest.

Doing as per Michael's demands will mean nosediving straight into the devil's mouth. Having realised that, I begin to think of a plan, and quick. I book a flight to Colville and download the Ironsplinter mines' map before taking off, don't ask me from where, and went through it, marking the entrances, exits, the location of the hatch with a red marker. I decided to go through Alan's chats again to imagine the area around there. According to the map, there was another entrance to the mines, west to the entrance he wants me to be at. I wouldn't be trusting a two decades old map if I had other options but well, here I go.

Matter of fact: I can't be in a hand-to-hand combat with Michael. I mean yes, I will carry a pepper spray but I don't expect it to occupy my favourite raven guy (Dan's peculiar name keeping habits are catching to me) up until I get both the possibly drugged hostages out. Therefore, I needed to be decisive over how I go about it. The only way I can get them both out safely and without having a heart attack myself is if I go undetected by Michael in the mines and that is if he anticipates me coming from the east entrance. That would keep him fixated on the hatch in Duskwood. Plus he can't possibly rush towards me. The mine itself is 60 miles in distance.

As soon as I land in Colville, I take a taxi to Terrendale, which was hardly a 20 minutes drive from Colville. Okay then, show time baby. I begin to type in a quick text to my fellow Crowman.

UNKNOWN IS ONLINE

MC: I'll be there in 15 minutes

MC: Can't wait to see you Michael!

UNKNOWN IS NOW OFFLINE

I mean, doesn't hurt to be sarcastic. And just like that, I get as close as I can to the entrance of the mine. It isn't that far from where I am, so I walk up to there. The more closer I keep getting to the destination, the more I feel that my heart would jump out at any moment. My hands get sweaty, my breath shallows. Am I chickening out? Of course. I am.

There it is: the Terrendale entrance to the mine, pitch black and no sign of life.

"Fuck this", I groan and take out my cellphone. I see messages in the group but don't feel like responding to them. Scrolling down, I open my chat with Jake for one last time? Well, there isn't going to be great network down there and if I don't end up staying alive, then yes.

MC: Hey Jake, you there?

JAKE IS ONLINE

Jake: Yes. I am.

MC: I have to tell you something important

MC: Just promise me you will not get upset

Jake: What is it, MC?

MC: I feel like I'm doing something stupid

MC: I am here in front of the mine entrance right now

MC: But of course, I am not THAT stupid, so I decided to get in from the Terrendale entrance of the mine

JAKE IS NOW OFFLINE

MC: I know I did promise you that I will not come to Duskwood but hey, I technically am not in Duskwood

MC: Come on, you have to agree that this isn't above Hannah and Richy's life

MC: Please don't be mad at me, Jake

MC: I will get going now

MC: Forgive me if you can

I wipe a stray tear on my cheeks and slip my phone in the back pocket of my jeans. There's no going back now. You got to do this and return unscathed, for your friends, for Jake and for yourself.

I stand there for a moment, thinking how 3 months back I wouldn't have done something remotely close to this, definitely not for love and NEVER for someone who I haven't even met but well, the things we do for love.

Sighing, I take out my torch, get a few sips of water and move towards the entrance. "God, just please don't let me die", I say out loud, I don't know to whom. Would it be easier if I just dash into the cave?

Before that, I realise I had forgotten the map in the bag. I take my bag off my shoulders and start searching for the map. If I were to say that I am nervous, I would be making the greatest understatement of this decade.

Just as I get distracted by the "map finding expedition", I hear leaves rustle behind me. "Holy shit", my breathing shoots up and I look behind me, startled, searching for a possible Michael and while also hoping that it is just a small animal.

While I am looking behind me, all of a sudden someone from behind presses a cloth on my mouth and nose. I throw a few unsuccessful kicks behind me, a few elbow jabs too before my vision slowly starts blurring out. All of my already weak attempts of fighting back weakened even further and I knew I was going to pass out soon. Still, I kept thrusting my weight backwards, not making it easy for my pursuer to take me away. He presses the cloth even tighter and in any normal scenario, I surely would have gone out by now, but because I was so driven to save Richy and Hannah, I did my best to put up a fight. Suddenly, I felt his grip loosening up and that's when I put all my energy to push him back. I managed to get him off of me but the effects of the drug kicked in and ultimately, I was on my knees, struggling to stand.

Before I could take a breath of peace, I felt the cloth pressing again, this time I end up inhaling all of it because of the breathlessness from the struggle. "Guess the mission ended way before it started", I mumble before the darkness finally creeps in and takes me off my feet.

PART 2

Okay so chances of grammatical errors are pretty high. I did try my best to minimise them but some just go unnoticed. Anyhow, i hope you liked it.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood fanfiction #jake x mc #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x player #duskwood turmoils of you

[skylarkking]

"One In The Same"

A TFA Blitzwing x Mech!reader

Word Count:1.5k

Chapter 13: Breaking the Enigma

Blitzwing sat in his cell with a stoic expression, hiding the fact that deep down inside, he was absolutely terrified for me. He knows he can help. He knows how to dismantle the very thing that's hurting me. Yet, just like with Megatron, he wouldn't be able to.

He felt helpless.

"Blitzwing?" Ratchet said as he entered the brig.

"How is he?" Blitzwing asked.

"He's in Stasis Lock right now on spark support." Ratchet said with a pained expression. "His internal temperatures are... almost fatally high. His cooling systems can't keep up and... it's only a matter of time before his spark goes out."

"No..." Blitzwing whispered as he slumped on the floor, and, for the first time in a long time, he quietly began to weep. Fluid fell from his optics and to the floor, his spark practically shattering in his chassis. "Zis is all my fault..."

"It isn't."

"But it is!" Blitzwing snapped. "Shockwave and I were both key figures in the Enigma Program. And now? I'm responsible for what's happening to him." The then swapped to his Hothead persona, and his wings violently shook on his back as he tried to contain his anger. "AND ZAT STUPID ELITE GUARD FRAGGER WONT LET ME HELP!" He slammed his cuffed fists into the wall, leaving behind a massive dent. "Zey won't let me help, and now he's going to die because of me!"

"No, he won't." Ratchet said as he went to the cell control panel and lowered the barrier. He then freed Blitzwing from the stasis cuffs and motioned for him to follow, the now slightly puzzled mech following the medic to the med bay.

"Von't you be put in ze stockades for zis?" His Icy persona asked.

"Look, desperate times come desperate measures." Ratchet said. "And when it comes to...a bot, I consider a son. I'll do anything for him."

The pair entered the med bay, and Blitzwing could feel his spark drop to his tanks at the condition I was in. My colors were pale and almost completely gone, my optics were shut, my vents clicking with each strained intake of air assisted by spark support. I was on the verge of death.

"Blitzwing," Ratchet said, pulling the triple changer from his fixation to look at him. In the medic's servos was a cortical psychic patch cable in excellent condition. "I have this."

"Zis vill work." He said.

"What exactly does it do?" Ratchet asked. "I never had the chance to work with these."

"In essence, I will be able to enter his mind through this and hopefully be able to deactivate Enigma." Blitzwing said.

"What makes you think it will help?"

"Enigma was designed to be a superweapon, the perfect Decepticon." Blitzwing said. "But... despite me playing a role in its creation, I never knew vhat Megatron planned on doing with it."

"You didn't know anything? At all?"

"No, I simply created the battle protocols. I assumed he wanted a drone similar to the autotroopers." Blitzwing explained. "Primus, was I wrong."

"Why did you side with the Decepticons?" Ratchet asked.

"It seemed like the right thing to do at the time." Blitzwing said as he hooked up one end of the patch to the back of my helm. "But... when the war started to really heat up, Megatron showed his true colors. I tried to leave and go into hiding, but... Megatron found out and had me sent... sent to her."

"Who?"

"Blackarachnia." He shuddered. "She... she was the one who turned me from a flyer to a triple changer. And since then, i... I've been too afraid to challenge him or to run away until recently."

"What made you turn?" Blitzwing paused a moment and glanced over to my frame with a softening expression.

"It was something he said to me." Blitzwing said. "He said zat Megatron can only control me vith fear for so long. He was right, and since he gave me freedom, I shall undo my greatest mistake." He looked down at Ratchet with a strange flicker of blue in his optics for a brief moment before returning to crimson. "Do not allow anyone to disconnect the path prematurely. It will cause serious processor damage."

"I'll do what I can." Ratchet said. "Just... please bring Y/D back safely. I'm taking a great risk with this."

"I am too." Blitzwing sat on the floor and connected the patch, his frame stiffening and his optics going blank.

His consciousness was transported into my mind, which looked like it was covered in shattered shards of mirror scattered across a black void.

'Y/D?' He called out, his voice echoing in the void.

'Ohohoho!' His Random persona giggled as it materialized next to him. 'It's like one of those human fun houses!'

' SHUT IT YOU ADDLED BRAINED IDIOT!' His Hothead persona barked as it appeared on the other side. 'WE NEED TO FIND Y/D AND ENIGMA!'

'And then turn  Enigma into a servo salad?' Random cackled.

'AND BREAK IT INTO TINY PIECES!'

'Zen let's go!' Ranom giggled.

'Hold on.' Blitzwing said, silencing his two ther personas. 'Do you hear that?' The other two heard quiet sobbing somewhere in the void, the trio quickly running through the shards and following the sound.

The crying grew louder and louder until they saw me hunched over with a massive figure looming over me like a shadow, wires and cables slowly creeping and attaching to my frame like tendrils of a sickening creature, each time they made contact with my frame I would let out a cry of pain.

'Y/D!'Blitzwing called out to me, my helm whipping around to reveal 4 sets of optics, each pair a different color.

'GET AWAY!' I cried out, my voice sounding like 4 speaking at once. 'DON'T HURT ME! I DONT WANT TO BE HURT! PLEASE! NO MORE!'

'Y/D, it's me.' Blitzwing said gently as he continued to approach, more and more details of my now drastically changed form coming into view. I had multiple arms, my helicopter blades were split into 3 separate sets of rotars, my legs were twisted and tangled in the wire, and cabling of the distorted figure that towered above. 'Everything will be okay now.'

'NO! YOURE JUST ANOTHER CREATION OF HIS!' I cried at him and his personas. 'YOU ARENT REAL! NONE OF THIS IS REAL!'

'I'm real.' He said as he knelt down and framed my face with his servo. 'It's me, Blitzwing.'

'Blit... Blitzy?' I whimpered.

'Yes, it's me, my dear. I'm here to help you.'

'I... I'm scared!'

'I know. But I need you to stay calm, okay?'

'Get... get me out of this.' I sobbed. 'It... it hurts!'

'I know your processor cannot handle this much data, and it is causing it to malfunction. What did you do?"

'I... I tried to save Enigma.' I said.

'Zat explains a lot.' Random said only to get whacked by Hothead.

'SHUT IT YOU STUPID DOOFUS!' Hothead barked.

'Yeesh, someone needs a stasis nap.' Random cackled. 

'Both of you quit it.' Blitzwing growled, silencing the two instantly. 'Y/D, do you know how you tried to save Enigma?'

'I... I tried merging him with me.' I said. 'I... it hurts so much!'

'I know my love, Enigma contains a lot of compressed data that has spilled out of its proper files. It's why it's attacking you right now.'

'That... that thing is Enigma?' I asked as yet another cable wrapped around me and dug into my frame.

'It's Enigma's defense protocol.' He said. 'It was designed to keep bots from rummaging around without the proper access. I can disable the defenses, but I need you to do something that I would never ask you to do unwillingly.'

'Wh... what is it?'

'I need you to allow direct access into your core consciousness, your spark.'

'I... but wouldn't that hurt you?' Blitzwing grabbed one of the sets of servos and held it between his own, his forehelm pressing against mine with a soft sigh.

'I can handle it.' He said.

'Are... are you sure?'

'Positive.'

'How... how do you know this?'

Blitzwing hesitated and gently ran a thumb down cheek.

'I... I was partially responsible for creating Enigma.' He said. 'The battle protocols at least, which is what is destroying you right now.' He hung his helm and tried desperately to contain his emotions. 'I... I would understand if you... you don't trust me now that you know or... or you'd hate me.'

'I can't hate you, Blitzwing.' I said as I tilted his helm up, another cable embedding itself into me. 'I can never hate you for doing what you thought was right. I trust you.'

'Then stay still, and relax.'

Outside of the patch, Ratchet was keeping a close optic on our vitals when a certain Elite Guard entered with weapons drawn and a snarl on his face.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Sentinel snapped.

"Saving my son!"

-----

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Next chapter: Click Here

#transformers #transformers animated #tfa #tfa fanfic #tf fanfic #transformers fanfiction #fanfic #male reader #x reader #reader insert

[bibblelevi]

Okay @levmada's princess levi oral fixation and @wortverlust's muzzled levi got me thinking......

He's got a mouth on him, whether it's with his snippy attitude or incessant need to have his lips smacked around something constantly. Some times it gets to the point of having to literally muzzle him.

And the first time you do it, he's so taken aback he has no clue how to respond. Save for the complaints of not being able to kiss you, lick your skin and nip at it while he's balls deep in your cunt. It's not fair. Not one bit, he thinks.

You're smug about it, teasing even. All Levi can manage right now is pressing the side of his face to your chest as he fucks himself into you.

"I warned you Levi, if you kept your mouth shut we wouldn't have had to come to this," you tut as he whimpers behind the grinding of his teeth. He needs something in his mouth, craves something--anything to fill it.

"Just wanted your attention, you were on your--hah--phone call..." his hips slow to a gradual roll as he tries to finish his sentence, brain growing fuzzy when you tighten up on him, "...f-for way too fucking l-long."

You pet his hair as he gives a silent plea for mercy--to let up on him. Maybe if he tries to look cute, you'll pity him enough.

"If you make me cum enough times, maybe I'll be nice enough to take this off."

Levi immediately gets to work at those words, putting every ounce of effort into fucking you exactly how you want him to with the shred of hope you give him.

Warnings for muzzle, dacryphilia (crying), mean dom Reader, punishment, use of “kitty” once (so mild pet play), mommy kink

Ley. I don’t even know what to say except for you’ve both ruined and improved my day substantially with this and your art

Dacryphilia kink going brrrrr… because imagine Levi getting so frustrated with the muzzle on that he starts to tear up. You don’t think he’s ever been so easy to tame before you decided to adjust the metal cage over his mouth--all of his quips die on his tongue, all of his pleas are silenced behind a bitten lip. He fucks you nice and hard, of course he does, but you’re not too sure he’s learned his lesson yet, so it stays on a little longer.

He sinks to his knees right between your legs, suddenly all obedient, brows drawn and hands placed in front of him where you can see them. When you notice his expression, you reach down and grab the front of his neck, turning his face towards yours.

“Why the long face, kitty? Are you upset that Mommy took away all your treats?”

“I-I’m not… what are… you even saying,” he huffs, feigning indifference despite the noticeable twitch of his cock. “That’s so…”

You hum, leaning down so you can nuzzle into his hair. A kiss is pressed on his hairline, and he warms from the touch, disappointed he can’t reciprocate the gesture with his own lips. You sit back up and pat your knee, silently beckoning Levi to rest his chin on the spot. He’s smart enough to obey, and a hand immediately smooths down his hair, attempting to console him after what he’s been cruelly denied.

“Let me… let me kiss you,” he murmurs. “‘wanna kiss. Please.”

“You want a kiss?” Your fingers run over the thin metal bars, barely pressing through. He knows you’re being mean--teasing him over the fact he can’t even lap at your fingers with his tongue. “You’re so cute.”

His face scrunches up. Another rejection. He’s growing more impatient, but maybe that’s the point--

“It could be worse. It could be a gag,” you say.

“This is worse,” he insists, choking on the knot in his throat. “So much fucking worse.”

“Oh? So you’re saying we’ve found a punishment you don’t actually like. That’s a first.”

He huffs. “Stop being so mean. I just…” He buries his forehead into your thigh and clings to you. “Jus’ want one stupid kiss. Please…Mommy.”

Your breath catches and your eyes nearly roll from the pang of pleasure you get hearing him call you that. It’s enough to pull him back up to your level, fingers reaching around to undo the leather buckle.

“Just one kiss, baby.”

And Levi proves one again how little self restraint he has when it comes to you.

#he gets you back for it at some point :// #Levi thirsts #subby Lwvi

[bakugohoex]

“you come here often then?” “well considering i work here, yes”

pairing: satoru gojo x female reader

cw: fluff and language

word count: 2100+

information: the great conjunction collab masterlist by @suna-reversed

a/n: ugh yeah have fun reading this, it’s probably crap because i waffled a bit and made gojo become an idiot

summary: in which gojo can’t help but have an infatuation with you as soon as he sees you through the glass window of a restaurant, now finally meeting you he can’t help but become an unaware teenager in front of you

↞ back to jujutsu kaisen masterlist

Gojo would hate to admit it but seeing the way you swerved past the customers at the restaurant was a dance in his eyes. The way you easily carried three plates on your arms and still had a calm and collected face. Even if he was a powerful jujutsu sorcerer the ability you had to still chat to people even when you were on your knees picking up the glass one of the customers happened to drop infatuated the man.

It wasn’t like he was busy, Yuji, Nobara and Megumi had decided to go out into the city and being the responsible adult he was he tagged along. Even if he had no idea where the three had gone, he had better things to watch as he stared through the window, any person inside would have noticed him. He was almost gawking but the way they either dismissed his wide mouth or genuinely couldn’t see him was an issue they could handle.

He continued watching you speak to the customers, the black blouse hugging your form as you took another order. The restaurant seemed busy, even if it was the lunch rush, the way you easily handled it with that perfect pretty smile. How could Gojo not stare at you, with those bright eyes that filled him with a passion he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe it was stupid to go in, to ask for your number, he was a Jujutsu Sorcerer for one thing but the fact he didn’t even know your name would make it seem creepy.

He stook to watching through the window, occasionally going on his phone to not cause any disruption with his clear blue gaze at your form. He looked up watching how you continued to skim past customers, talk to the customers, even cooing at the babies.

Hearing a loud crash behind him, he turned to be met with the three delinquents, the three-looking confused at why Gojo had been standing all doe eyed. “What’s wrong with him?” Megumi muttered.

“He always looks like that?” Yuji was barely concentrating as some shop nearby had caught his eye.

Nobara understood where he had been looking, could see that he had seen something he wanted. Her eyes went to the restaurant seeing your form taking plates away from an empty table. “He has a crush.” Her voice was loud as the two boys whipped their heads to give a confused look, Nobara pointed through the window as both her and Yuji went straight up to the glass staring right at you.

“Get away from the window.” Gojo spoke, grabbing their collars as he pulled them away from the window. “I don’t have a crush, that’s not my thing.”

“Sure, sure.” Yuji laughed as Gojo was clearly flushed from the way his ears became red and how his voice cracked as he tried to form words.

Megumi rolled his eyes as he spoke out loud, “leave him alone, even if he did have a crush that’s not our business, and it’s not like anybody would go for him.”

Gojo turned to face Megumi with his eyebrows raised, Megumi’s tone had been calm and without any malice but the way Nobara and Yuji laughed at the comment made Gojo roll his eyes. “I liked it when you weren't here.”

They dismissed his comment as they decided to head back home, Gojo gave one more look back through the wide window. The way you move your finger to brush your hair behind your head talked with the customers. You’d just be another woman who he had never gotten the chance to speak to, another woman who probably had a life that didn’t need the disruption of sorcerers and curses.

Turning back around he walked behind them, hands in his pocket as they all hurried back to the Jujutsu High.

It had been a week since he had seen you through the window of the restaurant, the three had been sent on a mission on their own as Gojo had found himself stuck inside after the incidents had occurred. Finding boredom through texting Nanami irritable messages, he got a reply he never expected from the blond, a meeting place for lunch.

It was highly unusual for Nanami to ask for something but whatever the issue was Gojo would be there without a second question. His eyes fixated on the address which sounded so familiar, he didn’t realise where he was until he stared directly at the restaurant. The restaurant you worked out, it had to be a coincidence. It couldn’t be that Nanami knew from Nobara or the others clearly wanted to have a conversation with you.

But just as he walked through the doors, the gold bell ringing, your head beamed from the doors of the kitchen watching to see who it was. The restaurant was empty as the lunch rush had finished and the only one’s left were regulars or the mysterious white-haired man.

He walked straight to one of your tables as he went to the blond, “Y/n, I don’t pay you to talk all day.” The manager said as you rolled your eyes laughing, you shook your head as you grabbed your apron staring at the two men.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You muttered as he shook his head, even if you brought in a lot of customers and got the highest paid tips he questioned how you had gotten the job in the first place.

You walked straight to the table, a happy smile on your face as you undid your pen and flipped the notepad open. “Hi, I’m Y/n, I’ll be your server today, can I get you any drinks to start off with?”

Gojo eyes stayed fixated on your form as you gave the two men a happy look, “coffee.” Nanami spoke as the two of you turned to face the white-haired man.

“Not…nothing.” You nodded as Gojo had paused at how close you were to him, you stared back at them as you wrote the single drink down.

“And can I get you any starters?”

You barely looked up at them as Nanami spoke out some food items Gojo couldn’t comprehend, after scribbling it down you looked up. “Always the hungry one aren’t we Nanami.”

Gojo’s face fell as he stared at Nanami who rolled his eyes, you giving a chuckle as Nanami rolled his eyes at your antics. “Gojo meet Y/n Y/l/n, Y/n meet Satoru Gojo, she’s a friend and he…”

“Was the guy staring at me last week through the window.” You interrupted as Gojo didn’t look up through his sunglasses, you could see a spec of blue come through and he looked different from last week but still the handsome guy your customers had noticed gawking at you.

“You were doing what?” Nanami questioned as you laughed at the blond staring daggers at his friend.

Gojo leaned back on his chair as he tried to replace his embarrassment with another emotion, “I wasn’t staring.”

“My customers called it gawking.” You laughed once more before beginning the walk back to get the two men food.

Gojo’s eyes stayed fixated on your form as you left to grab the food, Nanami clicking his fingers in front of the man's face. He couldn’t help but stare at your form, how pretty you looked in full view, how you laughed off his clear gawking at you and how he knew you had a pretty name to match your pretty face.

“How do you know her?” Gojo spoke after you had gone into the kitchen, Nanami raising an eyebrow before replying.

“Before I became a Jujutsu Sorcerer again, I met her here and we became friends…I do have friends, Gojo.” He muttered as he stared at the menu and what he wanted to eat.

Gojo didn’t bother staring at the menu as all he wanted to do was become friends with you, he thought you were perfect. The way you laughed was even perfect but most importantly if you could handle Nanami he would be able to get along with you easily.

“She gets people handing her numbers every day, you can’t just give her your number.” Nanami hinted as he did want to see you happy and if it meant a date with Gojo then who was he to judge.

Nanami had only picked this place after you had spoken of the weird white-haired man who had been surrounded by three teenagers wearing blue uniforms. In an instant Nanami knew who you were talking about he couldn’t help but see how Gojo would react to seeing you once again.

You came back with the food as Nanami leant back grabbing the food as he wanted to see how Gojo would ask for your number. Gojo had one thing in his mind, and it was how pretty you looked, he barely even knew you but the urge to get to know you succumbed him.

All he had to ask was for your number, that was ask for your number and he could start something with you. But the words that formed out of his mouth was not what either Nanami or you expected.

“You come here often then?”

You let out a laugh as Gojo couldn’t dare look at you, he felt like a child in front of you and Nanami was enjoying all of it. “Well considering I work here, yes.”

Gojo knew he had lost his chance as you laughed once more before walking away to go to your other tables. “That was unexpected.”

“This is your fault; I would’ve never said it if you hadn’t told me she rejects every guy who asks her out.”

“I never said that.” Nanami spoke nonchalantly as he continued to play with the food.

It seemed like the rest of the lunch was going to be awkward as you hurriedly passed their main meal before going to another table. Nanami spoke of Yuji’s progress as Gojo was barely listening, staring off into the distance. It seemed like he had ruined any chance to ever get to know you, rolling his eyes as the two of them finished their meals.

“If there’s anything else you two need just ask, but i'll bring you the receipt.” You smiled at the two before leaving once more, never to chat or make conversation just making simple cordial comments before hurrying away to grab drinks for another table.

Nanami stood up as he stretched sorting his tie out as he looked at Gojo, “It’s on you.”

He didn’t say anything else as he walked out of the restaurant giving a nod goodbye to you as you had turned to see Gojo on his own. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way Gojo’s mouth had turned downwards in anger as you passed the receipt to him.

He was cute enough and funny from what you had gathered from Nanami. His awkwardness or most likely staleness from not flirting in a while had been cute. You bit your lip questioning if you should do it, but you grabbed your notepad as you wrote down a time and place on it. Slipping it inside you walked over placing it to the side of Gojo as you gave a smile before leaving.

His eyes went down as he opened the booklet, grabbing the receipt and seeing the cost, already cursing out Nanami. Grabbing some cash he slipped it inside before he noticed the note, seeing a time and place, he turned to see you staring at him from the register.

“Really?” He mouthed as you chuckled at him.

Walking closer as you wanted to talk to him properly, “really? I can’t let an attractive guy who can’t help stare at me, walk away from me?”

He chuckled lightly as he leaned back, glasses on the bridge of his nose as you saw his crystal blue eyes. The passion and lust felt through his warm gaze as he smiled at you, “you saying I’m attractive.”

You lean forward having taken Nanami’s seat, “I guess I am.” He leans forward himself, faces a mere inch from each other as you give a light chuckle. Feeling your warm breath fan against his face, “if you’re even a second late then I will get Nanami to beat you up.”

“You wound me.” He laughs as you roll your eyes at his comment, “I would never be late for a pretty girl.”

You give one last smile before standing up with a happy glee, he watches you take the money as he takes the note. He couldn’t help but not stare at your form as he stood outside the window once more, the way you worked with customers with such love for them all. You noticed him staring as you turned to the window smiling once more.

You had acknowledged him and that was all that he had ever wanted since last week. Waving a goodbye, you waved back as he finally walked away from the store. Ready for a whole new world with you at the centre of it.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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#satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #sorcery fight #sorcery fight x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader

[litchihikxriclub]

raizou is very interesting to me, is asking to pick apart his psychology okay? like, getting a feel for his personality more

Yeah, absolutely! :D I love character analysis!

The first and possibly most defining part of Raizou's character is that he's stupid. As in, while I don't recall the source, Furuya made a comment about him along the lines of, "He's careless and stupid, like a kitten," or something like that. And that's very accurate. One of the main traits we see in Raizou is this oblivious, blissful ignorance that dominates pretty much everything else he has going for him.

Really, that's why he and Yakobu got involved in the club. They were dumb enough to wander into it and dumb enough not to try to leave. Neither of them, in my opinion, ever realized just how bad the Hikari club was. They were both so lost in their own, as I said, blissful ignorance to pay attention to how fucked the situation was right up until Zera started murdering people. And even then, I don't think they quite grasped just how bad it was. They never understood the gravity of what they'd gotten into until it very literally killed them.

So Raizou is dumb— but he's also very sweet. His stupidity isn't malicious or intentional. In fact, it's one of his biggest charms. Having a head full of nothing but being pretty and loved makes Raizou the sweetheart that he is. He's not thinking of the awful world around him, so in a lot of ways, he's impervious to the horrors of Keikou.

On the subject of "pretty", gender. Personally, I see Raizou as non-binary with less care for what gender he is than how people perceive him. "My gender is pretty," about sums up how I interpret his identity. However, this still leads to problems for him. We know Raizou behaves in eccentric, bizarre, highly feminine ways, which, growing up in a shitty, awful city in 1985, Japan... that wouldn't have done him a lot of favors. Raizou has definitely been bullied. We see bits of it in canon, but I think it's been much worse than playful teasing. His mannerisms and identity have surely made him something of an outcast. Honestly, Yakobu is probably his only real friend.

We also know that Raizou's dad abuses him. In one of the Bokura yonkoma, a very young Raizou and his dad are taking a bath together. When Raizou does something particularly feminine, his dad hits him. Hard enough for the poor kid to yelp. His dad is also a hyper-masculine sort of man who does not give off the impression that he appreciates his son's eccentricities. Between direct abuse and probably not receiving anywhere near enough attention, it's easy to see Raizou as someone who really, really just wants to be loved, noticed, and accepted by someone. Or maybe by anyone.

Also interesting is that Raizou does seem to have the same fixation on girls as all of the others. While he shows some attraction toward men throughout the various media, he does still appear to be interested in women— although he does see them as "competition" for attention as well. Considering that the only member of his family we ever hear of is his dad, I'd say it's likely that his mother is no longer in the picture. Or any feminine presence, for that matter.

This leads to Raizou idolizing the beauty that girls have and the attention they get, all while unsure if he wants to be in their place or have their attention on him instead. Being the subject of a pretty, feminine person's love would validate a lot for him (and anyway, girls are pretty!), but he also still wants to have what they do, in a way.

And... this got long. XD There's quite a bit more I could say, but I'll stop here for now. I hope this gives you some good material on our favorite "maiden" to think about, and feel free to ask for more!

#Litchi Hikari Club #Lychee Light Club #Ichihashi Raizou #Analysis

[inviberu]

mirror

An old mirror dirty enough to the point you can’t see your reflection anymore. Faust decided to take a better look at it. He never expected it to turn out as a lost relic from a once prosperous city.

“Oh dear me!” Snow gasped, putting his hand over his mouth to appear more shocked than he actually is. A thoughtful smile suddenly took over his expression not long after as he put his hands on his hips. “I would’ve never thought I’d see this again in this day and age.”

“You know what this is?” Faust’s eyes widened as he examined the mirror in his hands once more, its golden rim giving off a shiny gleam after recovering it from the ruins during their last expedition to the Eastern country. It managed to pique the hermit’s interest after seeing it lay bare on the ground in such a terrible state, wanting to recover it to its former beauty. In some way, it reminded him of himself.

“But of course! This was awfully revered back in the day by both humans and wizards alike. It’s a good thing that my weary self was able to remember it.” Snow chirped, taking a closer look at the mirror. “A relic from a once-famous city—a mirror that is said to have the ability to show you the future. After their downfall, no one had any idea about where the relic laid rest. Ohoho! You’ve come across an exquisite item indeed.”

“The ability to show me the future? That’s ridiculous. I just picked it up from the ground, there’s no way a mirror like this is a lost relic.” Despite the sureness from his words, his voice held a certain kind of doubt that believed Snow. There was no reason for someone like Snow to lie to him after all, there was simply no merit in doing so and Snow wasn’t one to lie about this sort of stuff just for his own amusement.

“You think I jest? I see, then why don’t you try it out for yourself?” Snow’s expression held a smug smile before he remembered something and he let out a small gasp. “I heard it was very moody and picky though, so it might not work on your first try.”

“A moody mirror? The more I hear about this mirror the more I think that it’s a joke.” Faust shook his head.

“Ohoho! Try saying ‘please and thank you’ to the mirror when you try.” What Snow said sounded like a tease but Faust knew well that he was being serious. He didn’t know which one was worse—he could only let out a sigh as he inspected the mirror again. Could a mirror truly tell him of the future? Such an item is far too dangerous to be left out in the open.

“Woah, so you’re telling me this mirror can show you the future?” You wandered inside Faust’s room back and forth but your eyes remained fixated on the mirror placed on his desk, its intricate golden design never failed to catch your interest. It was hard to believe such a thing was capable of showing you the future when all sorts of magic relating to that were either forbidden or extremely hard unless you were gifted with the gift of prophecy like the twins from the North.

Faust let out a sigh, he couldn't bring himself to believe it either but there were a lot of strange things in this world—this was just one of them. "Apparently," he pushed up his glasses as he took the mirror in his hands and looked at his reflection. "Do you want to give it a try?"

"Me?" You asked curiously, wondering why Faust would ask you such a thing but you weren't against the idea of the mirror showing you your possible future. Though you can't help but feel a little bit scared when you thought about the possibilities—there was nothing more terrifying than the unknown future, after all. Faust handed you the mirror and you stared at it blankly. With much hesitance, you nodded.

"I'll try… how does this even work in the first place?" You tried tapping the glass, wondering if it was some sort of touch screen mirror but you were met with disappointment when it did nothing.

"Snow said to try saying 'please and thank you' to the mirror, I don't know if that'll work though. He said it was moody." Faust let out a dry chuckle, the thought still ridiculous to him but never crossed it out as impossible. If the mirror would truly respond to something like that, it only proved the strangeness of this magical world. You shot him a strange look, a moody mirror? But you pushed back the doubt to the back of your head and put your trust in him instead.

"Mirror, can you show me the future? Pretty please?" You cooed, feeling a bit stupid for pleading to a mirror like this. You waited a few moments for a reaction while looking at the object expectantly, only to be met with utter disappointment when it did absolutely nothing. Faust was silent along with you until he let out a small laugh, did you look stupid when you were doing that? You questioned if Snow was just pulling both of your legs, that mischievous old man!

"As expected, it won't work just because we asked it to."

"Geez, Faust! Do you really think a shabby thing like this can show us the future?" Shabby was the last word you would use to describe the mirror had it not been for your rage towards its defect. It looked elegant and regal, as if it didn't spend centuries lying beneath some rubble—it was a miracle the glass wasn't broken by such heavy fragments lying atop of it. You shook your head and gave Faust the mirror, giving up on it after you added: "How about you try it? It might listen to you because you're the one that picked it up."

He shot you a hesitant look, he had a feeling this wasn't going to end well yet he pushed that feeling into the back of his mind and stared at his reflection—he caught a small glimpse of your face in it while you were looking away and he couldn't help but break into a small smile. At that moment, something changed.

The hand mirror shook slightly in his grasp. Faust, alarmed, tried to make it sit still by gripping it tighter but it proved to be futile when it flew from his grasp and a blinding light filled the room—eliciting gasps of shock from the both of you as Faust grabbed to shield you from whatever was emerging in his room. When the light disappeared, it took him a while to get adjusted to the sudden change but once he did, he saw the hand mirror transformed into a full-body one sitting in the middle of his room.

"What in the world…" Faust left your side to carefully inspect the area, making sure there were no more risks in the area before taking your hand while telling you it was safe—aside from the now huge mirror residing smack middle in his room, its golden glow giving off an intimidating aura. You felt your initial shock turn into excitement.

"Isn't this great? It responded to you! What did you say?" You asked him, curious. You weren't paying attention to him at that time, perhaps you missed something.

"Nothing, actually. It just started vibrating and this happened." Faust tipped his hat slightly, closing his eyes and let out another sigh. One strange thing after another, he was bound to be drained at the end of the day, wasn't he?

"That's strange, you didn't say anything and yet it responded to you… curious." You stroked your chin. Faust stepped into the mirror's view and nothing was out of the ordinary, it showed him nothing of the future, only his reflection. He paused, was it broken after being left there for so many centuries? It was a plausible explanation. It was just like a normal mirror now, it was a shame such a relic has lost its true value—eroded along with the years that passed.

That is, until you stepped into the view.

The moment you stepped into the view, everything that the mirror showed suddenly changed as it emitted a faint white glow. You closed your eyes for a second and you could hear the faint sounds of… bells? You opened your eyes slightly to look at the mirror only for Faust to slap his hand over your eyes to obstruct your vision before you could get a small glimpse of what changed.

A bunch of incomprehensible sounds fell from Faust's lips and you tried to remove his hand from your eyes but that just made his actions more frantic. He grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the mirror to outside of his room. You tried asking him what his problem was but you were left unheard as he left you outside and shut the door to his room aggressively. By the time you tried making sense of the scenario, you were already staring at his door from outside—did he just kick you out?

Your mouth was wide open when the realization dawned on you—what was his problem!? You crossed your arms grumpily, a part of you wanted to knock on his door again to demand an explanation but another part wanted you to storm off without saying anything to him. You pouted, or was he trying to protect you from something dangerous? Magical items could be dangerous if not handled correctly, after all.

In the end, you didn't know what to do and rested your forehead against his door frame with a clenched fist ready to knock at any given time and a defeated look.

To say Faust panicked back there was an understatement, he felt as if his soul was about to leave his body right then and there when he saw the scene the mirror showed him. He could only breathe a sigh of relief, he was glad he acted quickly before you caught a glimpse of it—that would've made things worse and he wouldn't know what to do. He slumped against the door, feeling a bit light-headed and fuzzy, the heat refusing to leave his face. He was embarrassed.

The sight wasn't something particularly scary or tragic. In fact, it was the complete opposite—though that made it all the more confusing as to why Faust would stop you from looking at it. It was a scene that he saw in one of his many dreams, something that flustered him to no end and wished it would leave him alone.

The bells that rang in the background, the happy couple dressed in white as they looked at each other lovingly, a perfect wedding scene straight from the dreams Faust doesn't tell anyone. A perfect wedding scene of you and him in the distant future—together.

To think your fate was intertwined like this… Faust could only hope that it's a future that's bound to happen. But, right now, he can't let you find out about this lest he wants to live the rest of his life inside the forest hiding from you. He would simply pass away from sheer embarrassment, oh how would he even face you? His cheeks burned red at the thought of a wedding with you once again.

#mhyk #mhyk writing #my writing #promise of wizard #faust #mhyk faust #faust x reader #promise of wizard x reader #mahoyaku x reader #faust lavinia #faust lavinia x reader #no beta we die like white #the wedding rot ... immaculate

[ephemeralspnp]

class captain ; chapter two.

yn and sapnap's rivalry dates back to their middle school days. but now they're in their first year at college, and being forced to work together may just give them the push they need to turn their rivalry into something new.

chapter two: john smith does not exist

- - - - - - m.list ⏀ next ⏀ prev

SAPNAP KNEW HE WAS smart. he also knew he was hot, which was affirmed by multiple girls on campus who tried to catch his eye. however, his gaze was always fixated on one person: yn, his rival.

daily he questioned himself if the rival was worth it, if he should just end it and talk to yn in a not-so-platonic way, but seeing their scrunched up nose and determined eyes made his cocky nature worth it. yn was just that little bit more attractive when they grew competitive.

he was dragged from his thoughts by the hollers of his frat mates, who were getting ready for the first day. he didn't know what was so exciting this early, but he wanted to get away from the noise as soon as he could. grabbing his backpack and slipping on his shoes, he walked down the stairs and made his way to the kitchen.

"can you all shut the hell up," he groaned, still tired. staying up late to game the night before the first day wasn't a smart move. dream laughed at him, clapping him on the back.

"well, good morning sleeping beauty," the blonde-haired man greeted. he sat down at the kitchen island, snagging an apple from the plastic bowl and munching it. sapnap made a bowl of cereal as karl and alex bickered over something seemingly unimportant.

"no dude i'm telling you," alex was saying, "he's fucking real dude. i swear. why would i lie-"

"um, maybe it's because you have no friends, i don't know though," karl interrupted him, giggling loudly and wrapping his arms around sapnap. alex shouted profanities in spanish before he looked at george.

"george! my man! you believe me, right?" george furrowed his eyebrows. "about john smith!" george laughed and shook his head, sitting next to dream.

"not this again." the brit stretched his arms as alex shouted in exasperation again. dream and sapnap exchanged a confused look. "john smith is quackity's imaginary friend from mexico," george explained in a teasing voice, "emphasis on imaginary."

alex and george argued back and forth as punz came into view. sam and bad already left that morning. punz and sapnap shook hands as punz made his coffee. "you know, ella has a class with yn this semester," punz started, "i'll get her to put in a good word for you." sapnap laughed and punched punz lightly, putting his now-empty cereal bowl in the sink.

"whatever, dude." sapnap grew quiet, listening to george and karl's shouting of "john smith does not exist, alex you're literally lying". his thoughts drifted back to yn. 'this rivalry is literally so fucking stupid,' he thought to himself, 'we're in college. i'm gonna be mature and try to be their- uh, friend.'

"well, punz, if ella's gonna try and get sap and yn together, i think it's time that karl and yn's friends get ella and foolish together," dream shrugged before wheezing loudly at punz's angry glare. sapnap laughed at the strange sound leaving dream's mouth.

"never fucking say that again you whore," punz responded, only half joking. alex looked up, giving up on trying to convince george and karl that john smith is in fact a real person.

"dude, isn't ella like, almost 19? why can't she date? are you trying to get her stuck in a washing machine or-" he was cut off by loud, shocked laughter, and karl fake-gagging. "what? she's your step-sister, right?" alex laughed as he continued the bit.

"yeah, but we're not gonna fuck! i've known her since i was like eight, dude, come on." alex lifted his hands in self defense, reaffirming that he was joking.

sapnap took that as his cue to leave, heading off to his first class. karl walked with him before departing and heading towards the campus cafe. as sapnap approached his first class - with professor philza, who he knew already and vibed with spectacularly - he bumped into callahan, a good friend who he went to middle school with.

"hey dude, what's up!" he was met with a grin and nod. "oh shit, forgot you don't always speak for a second, sorry dude. i got class with philza right now, but we definitely should hang out soon!" sapnap bounded into class, leaving callahan smirking.

"philza," he whispered curiously, walking over to his roommate, technoblade. "hey, you know yn from your english class? the one i went to middle school with who has a rivalry with one of my close friends and they both have feelings for each other because of course they do?" technoblade sighed and nodded, used to callahan giving him all the gossip.

"what are you planning now? and why are you talking to me about it? ask your friend ella, she's the kind of person you need for this." techno's deep, monotone voice echoed in the empty hallway. callahan shook his head.

"i have a plan that involves you, me, your dad and maybe your english professor if we need her. if it works, it'll finally stop this dumbass rivalry they have going on. what do you say?"

the pink haired man weighed up his options, before grinning at callahan. "fine. i'll do it. if i get paid, of course."

#dream smp fanfiction #dream smp au #sapnap au #sapnap fanfic #sapnap fanfiction #dream smp x reader #sapnap x reader

[dragonfightingsocietea]

Yes, hello, i would like to hear abt funpoison 👀. How do they show affection? What's their favourite and least favourite thing about each other? What's a moment they hold dear to their hearts? Can i have a 2000 word essay on their relationship by next friday? (i'm just kidding with the last one sfdsafasdf)

the fact that i would willingly turn out that essay for you is probably horrible, but what did you expect.

and oh my god!! great questions!! i love this!!

how do they show their affection? okay okay so- i think they show affection in almost every sense of the word. while they both lay on the pda pretty thick, they have their own ways of showing each other how they feel. for ghoul, he shows this by cleaning up their room, or (attempting to) make the two of them breakfast, as aside from being physical, he likes to do things that "prove himself", in a way. poison, rather, shows their affection creatively. always drawing, always leaving notes that wax poetic (even if it's poorly written, both in handwriting and literary content), always leaving out scraps of songs they'll never finish. poison's ways of showing affection are some of the most realistic displays of themself they'll ever show- for ghoul, they break down their own wall. they take off the mask.

what's their favorite thing about each other? probably one of my favorite questions from this ask. this is.. so good. but yes!! poison's favorite thing about ghoul is, without a doubt his selflessness. whether he intends to be serious or not, he cares so deeply for others- even to the extent of putting everyone else before himself most times. poison admires the way he'll check up on kobra after a clap, or how he won't let himself go to bed before he reads the girl a bedtime story. now, ghoul's favorite thing about poison would, by a landslide, have to be how much they've grown, or, how they've allowed themself to be their authentic self. it's no surprise that ghoul has always loved poison, but there was something different in the short stints where they'd let their guard down- in the half-asleep whispers of "i love you", or in the way they'd close their eyes when they laid in the sun. as time ticks on, this becomes a new normal, and the mask, it starts to fade away, ideas soon cease to define them. ghoul love that they've learned to trust themself enough to let go.

what's their least favorite thing about each other? other favorite question, baby! but upon Much Thought, i'm starting to think... there's not much. quick TW here for slight allusion to self-harm and/or self-destructive tendencies!! be safe!! i'd say, though, that ghoul's least favorite thing about poison is how easily they shut others out. he knows that it's nothing they actively try to do, he knows that they don't actively want to shut down, but at the slightest of problems, all communications cease to exist. it's a way of not showing vulnerability, and ghoul knows that, but he can't help but want to wish it away. but he himself, on the other hand, has some questionable traits as well. poison hates the way that ghoul takes out frustration on himself, in a way, both of their tendencies mentioned are self-destructive, but i guess that ghoul's is more literal. one way, in particular, is his tendency to, more than actively, maybe make a bomb backfire. to stand a little too close to the explosion. and maybe it's just curiosity, or stupidity, maybe poison's just assuming too much. but one day, they think that he'll be the death of himself. the though shakes them to their core.

what's a moment they hold dear to their hearts? oh my god i have so many of these! but here, i'll narrow it down to one, because this is already getting so long. one think that i've been absolutely fixated on since i thought of it, was this. it was early for them, i'd say right around the time that ghoul joined the crew. at this point, both of them had, for a long time now, been dancing around the subject of feelings, to the point where it was almost a struggle to do things together without a cloud of same hanging over them, just the weight of words unsaid. and one night, with plans unmade and gas in the 'Am, the road vast and ahead of them, they drove out. it so spurred of the moment- suggested by ghoul, as neither of them could sleep, and outrageously (as always <3) acted upon by poison- they drove down route guano, and for a while, the drive was silent. albeit for music, they just reveled in the presence of each other, soaked in the feeling of what felt like a final moment, the end to a chapter. the weight was living, and both of them knew it. so ghoul asked a question.

"do you have a marker?"

"what? i mean yeah, but what?"

"gimme it, stupid. i have a question for you."

a beat of silence. marker out of pocket, then in hand, uncapped, and then on skin.

"what is it? you're making me nervous, ghoul? are you-"

"this is going to sound so fuckin' cheesy- listen, if i told you that i loved you, i'd love you always."

he raised a hand. his wrist, in messy scrawl, read "always". he held out his hand, and in it, poison placed their wrist. ghoul pushed back. handed them the marker.

"no, you."

wordlessly, the phrase is written, and cemented, is always

(and fun fact about this, ghoul actually gets this tattooed and pois jusr writes it on their wrist every day. they r.. so special to me.

#thank you for the ask! #ask time!! #funpoison #why does this read as cringy #hope this doesn't suck? #danger days #true lives of the fabulous killjoys #ttlotfk #tlotfk #mcr #headcanon #violent red #teenage frankenstein