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inkskinned · 9 months

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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

#writeblr #this is a mashup of like 3 dates i accidentally went on lol #by that i mean that i was out with a woman on a date in 2 of these situations #and a man just. joined us. and we were too awkward to say anything while he tried to ''date'' me #& one was a longterm friend that i was like. you what????#like he's nice he's a doctor and my mom was SO happy she was like raquel think about it #''it's a perfect love story you grew up together and reconnected as adults and like the same things and he's friends with ur brother #and his sister is one of ur close friends!!!''#yes but alas. he is a boy . she only likes girls. can i make it any more obvious #anyway im tryna write about like the force of male attention being actually incredibly ingrained to women like we are SUPPOSED to like it #it's seen as the only important thing #even if ur gay #and it's a nuanced thing idk #and while rn i i.d. as lesbian #like .... it wouldn't be UNTRUE to say i am probably like ''cusp bisexual'' bc i CAN experience attraction to men bc like .#sexuality is fluid...#don't tell straight ppl tho bc they do not understand the concept that ppl don't necessarily need a solid everlasting label #they're like GET in the BOX #if ur gay & in boston i'm 30 and pretty please come kiss me.#(i usually only date older ppl sorry in advance tho)

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perpetualcynicism · 27 days

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“May I hold you?” you ask Jing Yuan one afternoon as you lie sun-warmed in his garden.

You almost think he is asleep until he invites, “Please,” carrying a smile in his voice.

With ginger movements, you reach over and place your hands on either side of his face. It begins as mere holding, but soon you find your touch roaming. You smooth your fingers over his eyebrows and trace down to each side of his jaw. From here your hands climb up again, and once more back down, mapping out each crevice and dip of his face, his skin, his bone, until you are certain there is no part of him remaining that you do not know better than you know yourself.

You play this game with yourself, sometimes. You imagine people not as people, but as planets. After all, what is a person anyway, if not a world of their own? You trace the ridge of his nose, and imagine there lies a mountain range. Around his eyes you find oceans. Where his cheeks dip, there are valleys, and a river runs between his lips.

“What are you doing?” Jing Yuan asks. There is an element of amusement to his question, but his voice is primarily gentle. Endeared.

You still your hands. They rest on his cheeks while your thumbs brush back and forth over his skin, holding him. Though the world melts back into the familiar shapes of his face, there is still an assured sturdiness to his features which is grounding; a gravity which draws you towards him, as if you were the moon to his planet. Small, perhaps, and bare, but casting light on him wherever you can.

You answer, “I think I’m holding the world in my hands.”

You feel Jing Yuan’s smile through the way his cheeks press into your palms. Two hands cover yours, large and calloused, but gentle, and hold yours securely in place against his face. There is the tender press of lips to your skin as he turns his head enough to kiss the inside of your palm.

You hear Jing Yuan’s smile through the way his words come warm and bright and filled with adoration. You wonder why you thought him a planet, when he is so clearly the sun.

“And I am being held by the universe.”

#i’m sorry i don’t know what this is #it’s past midnight and i needed to get this brainworm out #my thoughts are literally comprised of jing yuan these days and i don’t know how to fix it #enjoy this random and hopefully not-too-pretentiously-written drabble i suppose #(my writing style goes weird after midnight sometimes and i mistake myself for a poet (which i am most certainly not))#honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan

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teddybeartoji · 2 months

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office au! with coworker!gojo

he's the type to always be a little late. by a little, i of course mean a lot. he always bursts in the door with the biggest smile on his lips and four coffees in his hand. he winks at his coworkers, who then always blush and giggle out a hi, satoru! and you always roll your eyes at that. satoru nods his male coworkers, who always try to dap him up and start a conversation but he doesn't have time for that. he has things to do. (as if he isn't literally Late smh)

he answers the guys' question while he's walking – his eyes set on his favourite coworker. you. sitting in your cubicle, you're trying to ignore him and his dramatic enterance. that he does every single day. how annoying can he be? before you can roll your eyes again, a cup of coffee has landed on your table, making you glance over your shoulder.

he's blinding you, his grin is stretched so wide it's almost a bit creepy. he's standing right behind you, leaning his hand on your table right next to where he just placed the coffee. he's way too close for a co-worker and you gulp.

ugh.

"aren't you gonna thank your favourite coworker for bringing you coffee? whew, tough crowd, huh." his smile doesn't falter and he just leans in closer, his cologne clouding your senses.

UGH.

and he really does do it every single fucking day. he brings you coffee and he annoys you and he makes your eyes roll so hard you almost go blind and you hate to admit that he's kinda cute... it's whatever.

back to the coffees. so one of them is for you – he knows your order because he dug out the receipt from your bag when you weren't looking on his second day there. he almost got caught, too. but he only did that because you didn't wanna tell him your order!! and he was so insistent on bringing you coffee that he just had to find another way. he loved the way your eyes widened and how you tried to mask your surprised expression but nothing gets past his keen eyes. when you asked how he did it, he just told you that he guessed it. yeah, right....

the second coffee is for him. it's an insanely sweet latte. how do you know? he made you try it. more liked begged for you to try it. you also hate to admit that his puppy-dog eyes worked on you... he only drinks the special latte from the corner coffee shop and he refuses to drink the office "coffee". he's fancy like that.

the third coffee is for his second favourite coworker – kento nanami! they sure make an interesting pair. kento is the main reason why satoru even got the job. the latter begged him to pitch for him to the boss; he was so excited by the concept of Office Work and just had to try it out. he, of course, passed the interview with flying colors and kento regrets his decision to "help" him out in the first place. satoru yaps his ears off whenever he isn't doing the same to you and he's constantly leaving little notes for the man. you once saw one and it just had a miniature penis drawn on it. very mature.

and the fourth coffee is for your boss. satoru isn't sucking up like you originally thought he was. you think he just wants to bring her coffee? your boss is cool – she's in her forties and she has a strong voice, everybody always listens to her and she really does make for a very good boss. your guess is that satoru has a crush on her. (you're wrong. he also just thinks she's super fucking cool. literally nothing else to it.)

he's always wearing a fancy white button-up with a black tie loosely hanging around his neck and a pair of matching black slacks that hug his thighs so nicely that the women and the men of the office are always finding it hard to not stare at them. he gets an obnoxious ego boost from this.

he's constantly leaning on other people's desks, pushing his hips out and it really is hard to concentrate whenever he does it. the pose and the smug smirk he sends you when he catches you looking is making you feel hot. he always catches you too, it's so annoying. why can't he just continue doing whatever he's doing so you can admire him in peace?

he's loud, he's annoying and he's so fucking good at his job that firing him couldn't even be a passing thought. he actually does his paperwork rather fast; often finishing before you and that gives him the time to tease you for being slow. he does that way less than you expected though. only a few times in a day – enough to annoy you but never enough to actually make you upset or angry. he actually helps you sometimes. he can tell you don't wanna ask and he doesn't wanna make you feel bad - he'd rather watch you roll your pretty eyes at his stupid jokes with a small hidden smile than roll them with a deep frustrated sigh. he learned that the hard way.

he loves your smile. more often than not you can't keep the straight face you try to put up with him, making your loud laughter resonate throughout the whole office. oh, how his eyes shine at that.

long story short. he's infuriating. he's funny. he's way too good at his job. he's way too handsome. you loathe working with him and yet, you can't stop smothering him in kisses whenever you two "happen" to meet in the printer room.

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mellowwillowy · 1 month

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𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞

Yan! God x GN Yan! Reader

Warnings: Gruesome talk, blood, NSFW, Sadist x Sadist, mention of conceiving (miracle talk, no hope though).

"You are the most beautiful songbird in this world, dear."

Just like the songbird you were, you could only chirp and sing like them in this golden cage. The man's golden eyes stared into yours in adoration, his finger poked your cheek playfully every now and then.

How could he not adore his songbird when it took at least millenniums for him to catch you? It was a nice play chase game but he was also a man of needs. He needed to have you in his embrace, in his gilded cage.

"What will you do this time? I won't let you kill yourself to escape anymore."

And he was a man of his word. He would not go back on his words no matter what it took. Even if it meant he had to travel between fragments for millenniums just to find you.

"Oh... my songbird... how beautiful you are with these cuffs on your ankles..."

As though he was petting a bird, his hands ran up and down on your leg, squeezing your thigh every now and then.

"Dressed in white, you really do resemble an angel..."

He held the fabric of your clothes, humming as a glass of wine appeared in his hand. It reminded him of how those lambs' wool was splattered in red as it met its own demise.

"But you see... I enjoy tainting angels... I'm not just some benevolent God like you were..." He spilled the wine onto your clothes, enjoying watching how the red wine seeped through the pristine white fabric.

"My songbird... my favorite lamb..."

He brought his face closer to yours, his lip pressed against yours.

"All good for me, right?"

And that was his warning before he bit on your lower lip, nibbling it as though it was candy. His target shifted into kissing you, his right hand on your waist while his left hand held you still. You thrashed under his hold, legs flailing like a fish.

"Be good."

He bit your tongue, that was his first warning. Unlike his other self, he was not one to have his patience tested. And you loved that. The kiss lasted for as long as you could go on without breathing, tongue exploring each other's. You knew you were growing needy, as much as you enjoyed playing as the target and victim of his adoration, you also fancied him in one of the rooms in your 'heart'.

Growing bored, he pulled off from the kiss and started littering your neck with kisses instead. Your hand went to cover your mouth, your tongue feeling the lip he kissed earlier. You really loved him. So much that you want to cut his tongue and have it as your dinner.

He started to grow greedy, leaving his marks here and there, hickeys and bite marks painted all over your neck and shoulders for people to see. It served as a warning for people who dared to approach after all.

For you were the God's most beloved companion and lover.

Not wanting to lose, you nibbled his ears while your hands clawed his back as though treating him as a scratchbox.

"You must have really wanted to paint my back red again huh?"

He let you do so as he took off his whole attire, only leaving him with his pants, his toned chest bare open for you to feel.

"Go on, I ought to spoil my lover every now and then no?"

You didn't waste your time, digging your nails into his flesh as deep as you could to draw even more blood. You loved seeing him bleeding, you had always enjoyed making people you fancy bleed in one way or another, feeling their blood tinged your arousal.

He did not hiss even for the slightest, used to any kind of pain. His hand traveled down to cup your clothed sex before tearing the fabric that clothed it apart, teasing it with his fingers before he worked his way into it. His other hand stimulated you, both working to make you dig your nails even deeper, it made his back painted in bloody trails.

Gods had no worry with earthly wounds and scars but you two enjoyed keeping each other's marks, relishing in the pain as it was created, unwilling to erase it from your own skin as the two of you let time heal themselves.

As though he wanted more, he brought his mouth to work as well, making your hands move to tug his hair instead. You did not even bother to minimize your moans and whines, thighs squeezing him, not allowing him to pull away even if he was suffocating in a sense.

You knew he would never suffocate after all. No matter how hard and long you choked him, he would never pass out and his erection would only grow larger as he waited for his turn to do so. You two were sick.

It didn't take long for you to reach your high, yet just before you could come, he pulled away from your grasp forcefully, a smirk plastered on his face as he wiped his mouth. A bastard at heart.

"Why don't you return the favor?" He brought your face to his clothed cock by your hair. Used to this, you pulled down his pants and started kissing his cock before pulling down his underwear as well.

Well, it was safe to say his cock bounced out and accidentally hit your face. He only chuckled at the sight of you groaning before pinching your cheek, "How adorable." No matter how sick the two of you were, you two were also souls with a bond. A bond where the two of you would never hesitate to slaughter anyone that got in the way. It was no secret that you had always been brimming with envy seeing him fooling around with his followers.

He didn't mind seeing you going on a rampage with his little followers, in fact, he enjoyed watching it from the sideline. Watching how much they had to suffer as it depended on how much they had spent their time with him. The worst was yet the best for him. You would then sing like a songbird as you clean your mess up, praising yourself for serving another meal for Leviathan to feast. (an: Leviathan - the demon of Envy) In fact, he found you playing around adorable despite the mess he had to clean up as well.

You wrapped his length with your mouth, drooling at the thought of it entering and ramming you in and out. It would feel so good that you were already excited, your excitement leaking out as proof of it.

"So good for me, no?"

You nodded as you shut your eyelids, head bobbing in and out as your hand worked its way as well. You knew the parts he was sensitive to and you wanted to feel him tugging your hair even harder. Your tongue licked one of his cock's veins, urging him to twitch inside you excitedly.

"You really... are, khk-!"

You smiled to yourself mentally, adoring the subtle groans he made and dying to listen to more of it. You really loved seeing his flustered face, and you'd die to see it again, his face red until it reached his shoulder, moans slipping out of his lip and his erratic pace to chase his high, You loved it all. Although you could actually feel your jaw growing sore from his size, you did not pull away. Well, it's not like you could pull away.

The only warning he gave you before he shot his load into your mouth was a little statement of him saying he was cumming. And he came a lot.

Do Gods from his world just have this monstrous size of strength, size, and loads? No wonder they all just have these unlimited amounts of offspring and children.

He pulled out once he finished inside your mouth, his sperm trickled out from the corner of your mouth and hit the floor. His fingers squeezed your round chick, prompting you to open your mouth. You opened it and showed him just how your inside was painted in white with his semen.

He bit his lip, his face and shoulder red from his previous makeout with you. You could just really cum just by looking at his worn-out face, clenching your thighs while thinking about what you should do to make him redder.

"Swallow."

And you did so. His order rang inside your head while you swallowed all the probabilities and chances of a miracle to happen inside your body, for you to conceive. But you threw it all away and drank it down like your favorite drink, wiping the corner of your lip with your thumb before pressing the thumb onto your tongue.

You pointed down to your sex again, the grin on your face gave him all the ideas you wanted. To fuck himself into you as deep as possible and paint your insides white with the idea of a sweet 'miracle' despite the two of you knowing such a thing would never happen. Such a miracle never existed. But what were you two but indulging in each other's wish and lust?

"I truly love you the most, Caelus!" You kissed him with your arms wrapped around his neck. Caelus reciprocated your gestures, his lip nibbling your earlobe as he positioned his cock into your entrance.

"Beats me, I love you too, my love."

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒌, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒚.

#Caelus the Henchman #CatboX #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Smut #x GN Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenarios #Yandere Writings #4k CatboX Celebration #There's supposed to be some tentacles in this but I'm too lazy~#So no Eldritch Yan for you people~~~#That said this is based on my friend's OC #I only changed the name because it's too OOC to be her OC #ILY Poppy

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mummer · 10 months

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just saw asteroid city last night, pls explain the proposed significance of the kiss!!

answering this publicly hope thats ok! cant do a readmore im on mobile *****asteroid city spoilers below beware*****

i dont remember anyones names so this is gonna sound partly unhinged. okay so the edward norton playwright and jason schwartzman actor (not character, in the black and white parts) are lovers right. tbh i thought this was kind of a gag and forgot about it. but later we find out that the playwright died 6 months into the production. i didnt make the connection that THAT’s why the actor-jason has to suddenly leave the stage and freaks out backstage about how he’s not sure he’s Doing it right. hes not talking about acting!! because he himself is literally grieving his lover while he’s playing a character who’s grieving his wife written by his lover so obviously it’s too much!!! actor-jason is trying to find meaning in his death through his writing but there isnt any meaning in death [gerris drinkwater voice] which is what the play is trying to say anyway. he doesnt think he’s performing grief right even in his own life!!! (and tbh it’s the 50s so he wouldnt be able to perform grief publicly anyway!!!!) the play starts with a car accident… anyone would search for some hidden meaning there, some sign…. so when he talks to margot robbie outside it’s not really about finding the CHARACTER’s motivations it’s about the actor himself being able to process the playwright’s death! and adrien brody director was probably also dealing with that too (him and norton seemed to be good buddies) so the whole “sleeping backstage” thing gets a bit sadder maybe? maybe everyone else got this in the theatre and im just stupid lol but crazy making stuff to me!!! the whole story is about sublimated gay grief that cannot be expressed?!?!

the tweet that caught me onto this was here which posits that the playwright’s death was a suicide but i think that’s pretty stupid and unnecessary because the whole thing about the play asteroid city is that death is random and meaningless. im pretty sure that’s what the alien represents— a shocking and absurd event that isnt outright evil or menacing, not something anyone can predict or make sense of, it’s just a thing that happens to you out of nowhere, it doesnt mean anything. he’s a little black figure, he’s death! giving and taking! aagh

#you’re the wife who played my actor :(#posthumus #asteroid city #imagine youre in love with a playwright and he writes a play before he even meets you about how you cant get over his death which hasnt #happened yet. id go insane too #im going to see it again to see how this informs the whole thing because its driving me crazy #rewatching the performances knowing that they're performing people performing. augh.#remember when bryan cranston accidentally appears in frame. rending my garments #also ‘you cant wake up until you fall asleep’ confused me a bit but then i remembered that the margot robbie scene was supposed to be put o #as a dream sequence and it makes sense now. thanks #aliens are the new fairytale monster symbol of death. the ultimate Unknowable #EDIT okay i read the wikipedia summary got some facts wrong adrien brody is sleeping in the theatre during rehearsals so its not because of #the playwright’s death he’s just like that.

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 27

part 1 | part 26 | ao3

cw: recreational drug use. short, fluffy update today to round out ch. 6; be back after the weekend to start ch. 7

In hindsight, accidentally hot boxing Eddie’s van while they were all already drunk was… maybe not the best idea.

Steve has no idea how they got here; blinked and time did the thing again, but now it’s three in the morning and Gareth’s conked out with a black eye in the front passenger seat and the rest of them are sprawled on top of each other like puppies in the back of the van — Eddie with his head in Robin’s lap so she can braid his hair, Steve using Eddie’s chest as a pillow, Max curled up like a sleeping cat in the crook of Steve’s bent knees.

With his eyes closed, Steve feels like he’s fallen into some dark, glittering void, purple-blue-black swirls of light dancing behind his eyelids to the syrupy beat of a metal ballad Eddie’s playing at the lowest volume. Eddie hums along in a low, soft rasp, and Steve’s head moves with the swell of each breath; gentle rocking rise and fall, luring Steve away from shore. Somewhere curious and strange. Deep ocean, dark waters. His thoughts float by like jellyfish.

Eddie’s warm through his t-shirt.

“Still alive down there, Sneeze?” Eddie asks. He’s carding his fingers idly through Steve’s hair, rings catching on the strands, tugging a little on his scalp.

“Feels good,” Steve hums. Wait a minute. “Did’you jus’ call me Sneeze?”

“No?” Eddie snorts. “Just called you Steve, sweetheart.”

“I’m absolutely gonna start calling you Sneeze, though,” Robin chimes in, pitching her voice all low and stupid. “‘Yes, hello, I’m Robin and this is my very best friend, Sneeze Handkerchief.’”

Eddie lets out a cackle and immediately joins in on her game of royally fucking up Steve’s name.

Steve closes his eyes again, lets himself drift out into the weird purple-blue-black-glitter magic slime swirl situation. Sloshy and dark and warm and nice. It’s just nice: Eddie’s breathing, full and slow; Robin’s laugh like cracked church bells. He likes hearing them get along even when he can’t make out the words.

He likes it less when he can make out the words. He wades back to himself for a moment, cracks one eye open and finds them red-faced and crying laughing over “Edgy Mustard and his neighbor, Sven Hamburger” and mumbles, “You’re both such fuckin’ dorks.”

“You’re a fuckin’ dork, you fuckin’ dork,” Max mutters in response, turning over with a soft snore.

“Oh, my god,” Eddie whispers, “did that kid just shit talk you in her sleep?”

“She’s incredible,” Robin coos. “Sven, we may have to reassess your status as my best friend; I’m obsessed with her.”

Steve rolls over and faceplants into Eddie’s stomach with a pouty harrumph. “Leamme alone, you bullies, ’m sleepin’.”

—

part 28

tag lists in separate reblogs with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content, comment if you want to be added (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged; if you’re already on the list you’re good you can ignore this message lol)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #max mayfield #gareth stranger things #this was supposed to be a little cut content bonus scene but i like it too much it’s staying lol #we’ll get angsty and struggly again in ch 7 don’t worry just let sven hamburger have this #my writing #my fic

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yvesdot · 1 year

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Some horrifying revelations have caused me to make this poll. Get chatty in the tags, as always! Especially curious if you read generally; if you read a lot and don't use your library I'd love to know why and what you use instead.

#txt #booklr #bookblr #writeblr #I just assumed everybody used the library extensively but I suppose it's me and Max goose-books.#Even my fellow bookshop employees don't really? Is it just because we get books for free..?#Well at any rate you can't say too much to me about this; I'm very curious.#And if you don't read more power to you it's not for everyone.#important writing updates

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spiteful-lvsts · 6 months

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•And I’m The Perfect Sacrifice•

• Final Guy!Reader x Slasher!Dottore

• AMAB Top!Reader x Bottom!Dottore

• Summary: In a turn of events, you find your cabin trip ambushed by a masked killer, and you remain as the final survivor.

• Warnings/Content: modern/college au?, dottore is referred to as zandik, mentioned violence and deaths, unsanitary (blood as lube), wound fingering, slight orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, body worship, both reader and dotts are kinda deranged, porn with feelings?, hurt/comfort?, masochist!dottore

• Notes: whoops too many dottie drafts, this is partially inspired by final girl by graveyardguy, technically webttore? i think his mask would fit more than the bird one

The killer is pinned beneath you, held down by your weight, arms restrained above his head. The stench of iron is prevalent, a reminder of what happened, of the corpses that lay just inside the room. You could kill him now, injured as he was from your earlier scuffle.

And yet, you can’t. You won’t.

Because you knew him. Knew his face, despite the mask, despite of the blood and viscera painting him now. And oh, how you’ve missed him, that some part of you ached to devour him whole.

“Zandik,” you softly murmur, “Oh Zandik, where have you been?” He’d been missing for months, since his home burned down. Only to show up now.

He squirmed underneath you, a halfhearted escape attempt at best. “Don’t act like you suddenly fucking care again,” Zandik grit out, red eyes flickering between you and the window. “You didn’t look for me.”

Frowning, you reached up, fingertips skimming the edge of his mask, feeling him flinch. “...Not by choice.” You only say, like it’s a quiet, mournful thing.

There’s no rebuttal from him, so you continue. “Then, won’t you at least let me see your face? It’s been so long,” your fingers trace the leather straps connecting the mask, “I’ve missed you, Zandik.”

“...You won’t like what you’ll see,” He protests weakly, but it’s not a direct refusal. “I’ve changed, I’m not the same person you knew before.”

“I loved you then, I love you even now.” Your voice is soft, reverent even. And Zandik trembles at your admission, averting his gaze. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. It was supposed to be just simple, petty revenge, for what happened to him at the Akademiya.

And yet, you were an outlier. As you always were. He didn’t expect you to be here, of all places, and a part of him seethed when he first saw you tonight. Thinking you had replaced him, so easily, so quickly.

A warm touch breaks him out of his reverie, your hand gentle upon his face, as you waited for him to answer. Ironically, Zandik can’t find it in him to truly hate you, not when you’re like this. Still covered in drying blood, eyes full of worry for him, despite knowing what he did.

So he answers you, not verbally, still he twists his neck and head to bare you his throat. The metal clasps gleam in the moonlight. An implicit invitation.

Two sharp clicks echo in the room, barely undercutting the tension. Zandik can’t bare to look at you as you discard his mask, eyes and hands clenched shut as he awaited your judgement. Something sour in him curdles at the thought of being rejected by you, he’d never been one for other’s opinions, but when it was you...

Instead your warmth remains, letting him lean into your touch. Eyes fluttering open to meet yours, “There you are,” your hands cup his face, thumb brushing over still-tender scar tissue, and he has to suppress a whine at its sensitivity. You were always so damnably gentle to him.

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper again, earnest as you always were. Even now, even splattered in blood and gore, what remained of the rest. Zandik realizes then, that even if the world shuns him, condemns him a sinner, that he loves you.

“...I’ve missed you too.” His voice is quiet, smaller than he’s ever been. Suspended in this fragile tension, he can’t help relaxing just the smallest bit in your presence. No longer restrained, he was sure if he ran, you’d let him. Though some small part of him wanted you to follow him.

In the (almost) comfortable silence, his gaze slides over to the corpse in the room. Their eyes clouded over, frozen in fear during their last moments. In truth, whoever they were didn’t matter, what mattered was that they had to suffer for what they did to him.

Why did they get to live, unmarred by the consequences of their actions. Going about their days as if they weren’t as bad as he was. Zandik’s hand twitched, thoughts spiraling as rage threatened to bubble over. You were part of this trip, weren’t you? Were you going to betray hurt him, as they did?

He wants to— needs to ask, were you still lying to him? He wants to believe you, he really did, but some traitorous part of him still doubts your sincerity. “Why were you here in the first place?”

A dark expression flashed by your face, yet as quickly as it came, it was gone. “Same reason as you, I’d think.” You smile, sharp and dangerous, with a hint of teeth. And Zandik swallows, throat bobbing as heat pools in his gut. Anger dissipating at your statement.

Between the two of you, you had always been the kinder of pair. But oh, Zandik was quickly finding out how much he enjoyed this more... dangerous, side of yours. He can’t help the flush crawling up his neck, across his face to the tips of his ears.

Against all rational thought, Zandik finds himself grabbing the front of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. Your lips come together clumsily, messily, the taste of iron shared between you as his sharp teeth clips your lip. Zandik relishes the noise of surprise you make, even as you wrench control from him, drawing a whine from him as your tongue traces the inside of his mouth.

When you pull back, he’s panting, dazed and breathless. “Please,” Zandik breathes out, already half-hard as you gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Hands gripping your shirt tighter, unsure what to do with himself.

You blink, slow and languid, “Here? Now?” Your voice is quiet, but it leaves him trembling as he nodded. The ache to devour him is back, laid beneath you as he is now, and you can’t deny how much you wanted Zandik as well.

Your clothes were almost an afterthought, torn off of each other in the throes of passion. Though, in all honesty they were probably unsalvageable, from your previous altercation and all.

The low light obscured many things, but here, exposed only to you, Zandik was the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. Scars and all, as your fingers trace the burns covering his body. Perhaps sometime later, you could really take the time to appreciate all of him, this desolate cabin hardly seemed appropriate for the task.

A shock of pain shoots through him when your fingers accidentally dig against the gouges in his side, reopening the wounds. Something electric sparks through Zandik as his mouth falls open in a startled moan. Maybe it was from delirium, or blood loss, or both, but his cock throbs at the feeling.

Startling at the noise, you almost began to ask if he was okay. Only to be cut off, “Do that again.” He orders, and he sounds... not hurt, or mad, more curious than anything. It’s not like you didn’t notice the effect it had on him either, with how hard he was pressed against you.

So you comply, not that you could’ve denied him anything, and oh, how lovely he looked as his spine arched. Hips twitching in search for friction. Your name, a bitten off whimper- a plea on Zandik’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

His blood coats your fingers, warm and wet, he doesn’t ask for you to stop, even as your nails dig into him. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth, briefly tucking your face against his neck, you could hear Zandik’s heart hammering in his chest.

“D’you think you could cum from this?” You murmur, more of a joke than anything but at they way he whined, well, maybe you weren’t too far off.

When you pull your fingers from the wounds, it was almost cute how he glared at you, whatever impact it would’ve had was lessened from the beading tears and the flush across his face. “I didn’t tell you to stop—” he begins to complain, after all, he’d been so close before you stopped. But quieting when you press a kiss to his lips, unbearably soft in comparison.

Your bloodied hand trails down his body, leaving a streak of red, stopping when your fingers just barely tease his hole. “Wouldn’t you prefer to cum from this instead?” You ask, and Zandik shivers from your tone, eyes flickering to your neglected member, precum smeared against his thigh. Blood wouldn’t be nearly enough to ease the burn, but something in him craves it.

“Please,” his voice cracks, and the sheer want in his voice makes the heat in your gut intensify, “Make me yours, need them all to know you’re mine.”

The stretch burns, blood-slick on your fingers barely soothing it. Regardless of the pain, Zandik relishes in it, a choked moan making its way out of his throat when your fingers crook in just the right way for him to see stars. You work him open with a tender patience, in contrast to his own impatience, rocking his hips down into your hand.

Pain and pleasure mix into something intoxication, his mind growing muddled from the ministrations of your fingers, and the sweet nothings whispered to him. Still you remain an infuriating tease, despite the tenderness. Just barely brushing against his prostate with each movement of your fingers, not quite enough for him, but just enough to leave him yearning for more.

His dick was hard and useless, leaking pre onto his abdomen at each movement. “Hngh-! Would you j-just get on with it alreaDY—!!” Zandik’s complaint turns into a shriek at a particularly harsh jab from you, his walls clamping around your fingers at the rough treatment.

You rub soothing circles into his uninjured side, murmuring sweet nothings to him, even as your hand doesn’t stop moving. “Mm, I promise I’ll make you feel good soon. You can hold out for me a little longer, can’t you darling?”

And you sound about as earnest as you always were. Even with that playful lilt in your voice, even as you looked down at him with an expression full of love and lust.

All Zandik can do is let it happen, head lolling back as he surrenders to your whims. All too aware of your ministrations, the kisses peppered against his skin. The promise of something more the only thing keeping him from losing his mind fully.

Logically only a few minutes at most would’ve passed, but with how high-strung he was, it felt like hours to him. When you finally pull out your fingers, it was almost a relief. But it left him so achingly empty.

All his thoughts had faded into a pleasant buzz while you toyed with him, only to be brought back into focus at the feeling of your cockhead prodding at his entrance. At some point Zandik found himself wrapping his legs around your waist, an attempt to drag you closer into him, to fill that aching emptiness. His own arms winded around your shoulders, nails digging into your back as he anticipated what was to come.

It hurts when you finally push in, no amount of preparation could’ve prepared him for it, even with the aid of his own blood. Still he can’t help but crave more of it, rocking his hips against yours, urging you deeper. “Hah-! Mngh-” his breathing comes out short and uneven, already drooling from just this, “T-too mu-aH-!” His body jerks when your hand suddenly wraps around his length, blood and pre mixing, leaving caught between two points of pleasure.

You kiss away the tears falling down his face, letting him whine and gasp as you trailed kisses down his jawbone, to his neck and collar. “You’re doing so well for me...” you murmured against him, mouthing along his skin, hand slowly pumping his dick in tandem with your movements.

Zandik keens when you bottom out, your hips flush against his ass, your cock a searing heat inside him. Through the tears gathering at his lash line, he could see how well you filled him out, how his stomach bulged from your size.

Perhaps some other time you two could be gentle with each other, to be as lovers were, but tonight there was only an animal need for more. Case-in-point, the way Zandik squirmed impatiently, whining cutely for you to move already, sharp teeth worrying his bottom lip.

It’s not as if you were unaffected either. The way his walls fluttered around you, all warm and tight. Squeezing just the slightest tighter whenever you nipped at his skin.

Regardless, who were you to deny him? With how pretty he was under you, oh he was gorgeous objectively and to you, but the image of Zandik all flushed and teary eyed? You just wanted to ruin him.

The drag is a painful, pleasurable burn as you pulled out. Tip just barely remaining inside him, before you snapped your hips forward, drawing out a choked off scream from him. Eyes rolling back and body spasming, mouth falling open into an ‘o’.

Angry red lines bloom across your back, Zandik’s hips bucking in response to your ruthless pace, sobbing with every well-placed thrust against his abused prostate. You only pull him closer to you, fucking deeper into him, nails digging into the gash in his side as you gripped his waist. The pain shooting straight to his dick and the part of his brain that left him pleading for ‘Gngh! More- moremoremorepLEASE-!’

He’s half delirious from blood loss and arousal, only able to focus on how full he was, drool dribbling down the side of his mouth. Obscene noises echo throughout the room, the sounds of your groaning and Zandik’s whines intermingling. Your own noises were muffled against his body, teeth itching to bite down, whatever remaining self-control you still had waning.

You’ve said it before but god, you loved him, and what was love to you but a desire to consume? And Zandik was baring his neck to you, oh so lovingly.

Your teeth close around the junction between his neck and his shoulder, relishing the way he wailed, how his nails dug painfully into your back. The taste of iron fills your mouth as skin splits under your incisors, sweeter than any honey.

It was just too much for him, the feeling of your hand on him, the shock of pain flooding his system, just you you youyouyou-!

His climax hits him unexpectedly, vision briefly whiting out from the intensity. Hips bucking as he came, ropes of white cum splattering across his abdomen and between your fingers. Your thrusts don’t stop, and neither does your hand, intent on milking him dry.

Zandik sobs through his orgasm, thighs trembling even as they weakly tightened around your waist, fat tears following down his face. Barely registering your tongue laving across the bite, an apology of sorts, not that he minded it. His dick twitches in your hand, painfully sensitive to your touch.

You weren’t far from your own climax either, pace growing erratic inside him, his walls a vice around your throbbing cock. All you could think about was how good he felt. Your hands move to grip his waist, hold practically bruising as you rutted into him, a familiar heat pooling in your gut.

A couple more thrusts before your hips stutter to a stop, flush against Zandik’s body. He moans at the warmth filling him, spreading through him, as you came inside of him. You practically collapse on top of him at the end, the both of you sweaty and gross, but satisfied nonetheless.

When you try to pull out, he shakes his head, tugging you closer. “N-not yet,” he slurs, “Wanna keep you inside, don’t wanna go yet-” babbling something incoherent as his arms wrap around you again.

How cute, you press a kiss against the side of his mouth, sweet and tender. “Alright, ‘m not going anywhere,” you murmur, voice low, making him shiver, “I’m not leaving you again.” You capture his lips again, and he opens his mouth obediently, whimpers muffled against your mouth.

Zandik can taste blood on your lips and tongue, his blood, and he can’t help himself feeling warm all over again. Dazed as he was, he can’t help grinning maniacally against you.

In the morning, or maybe just later, you two would have enough to talk about. Plans to run away, cleaning up any evidence of yourselves from the cabin, packing up your belongings, the works. But for now, you two can just indulge in a moment of intimate quiet with each other.

Perhaps in a week, or maybe more than that, the authorities would be called regarding a missing persons case, students of a prestigious university. The case will go cold, from lack of evidence, and it’ll become its own local legend. How a party of students died mysteriously one night, no trace of another person or anything of that sort, despite obvious foul play.

Some would wonder how it led to the incident, after all the cabin was well maintained, despite its remoteness. It was unlikely for its utilities to break. As far as anyone knew, none of the students tried to call for help that night, or even tried to leave. Theories are made, yet no answers are to be found.

But ah... if the phone lines were cut even before the killer was there, or if the car driven into the woods had its tires slashed in the dead of night? If the doors were conveniently unlocked?

Well, that’s between you and Dottore.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin x male reader #dottore #sub dottore #dottore x reader #dottore smut #top reader #dom reader #male reader #gn reader #< ♥ > writing #i worry my writing is too incoherent sometimes :(#so i hope this makes sense #reader was supposed to be meaner but i accidentally made this hurt/comfort oops #cw blood #cw unsanitary

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imviotrash · 24 days

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I honestly think that Joanne had it the worst (psychologically) during the midnight tea party.

Imagine being bullied and isolated for a year, because someone fabricated an entire web of lies about you due to you getting a tiny bit of positive attention. The truth about the situation finally comes to light, you get your (very demanding) dream job, are well liked among your peers and are finally included within the schools society.

And then within one night you:

-discover your comfort teacher and your first friend are not real and are actually private investigators

-find out your boss who is supposed to be your role model and protector is a murderer

-realize that the principal has been on vacation for a year and was replaced by THE FUCKING GRIM REAPER

-learn that the vice principal is DEAD (and was subjected to human experimentation)

-learn that you're the second replacement for a guy who got brutally murdered and ALSO subjected to human experimentation (which you are witnessing right Infront of your eyes in real time)

-literally hear why and how these humans have been experimented on

-see how someone gets turned into dinner

-almost get turned into dinner yourself and can't escape on time because your body shut down out of shock.

-see how your "friend" is hunted for sport by the grim reaper.

-also see your "comfort teacher" crush someone's head right Infront of you.

-become unconscious out of shock.

-loose not only your boss, two friends (Soma and Ciel )and comfort teacher after this whole fiasco, but also your entire network of coworkers because they got a promotion you're too young to have.

-on top of that YOU CANNOT talk about what happened to you to anyone because you were sworn to secrecy and you can't really talk about it privately to your former colleagues either, since they're now a completely different rank than you.

Like- the guy didn't get physically injured, but he was the only real student to witness the entire Midnight tea party, because he couldn't escape on time. (And let's also not forget that he's the youngest of the real students present at the party and definitely the most sensitive one).

Since the Midnight tea party will happen again, Joanne and his former coworkers are probably forced to attend again since they can't really publicly share the reason as to why they don't want to go.

#when your comfort character didn't have a day of comfort in his life #i love how Joanne was supposed to be a oneshot character but the editors ended up liking him so much that he became a regular character #but instead of treating him like a normal character they just decide to make the worst things happen to him #He needs to be rescued from this manga #im looking WAAAAAY too deep into this but its been on my mind for a while #this is definitely me pretending that this character is of more relevance than he actually is #definitely very self indulgent post #but I honestly think he deserves more in depth writing!#especially since hes interested in philosophy and witnessed the extremes of his schools code of ethics #kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji season 4 #vio speaks #joanne harcourt #kuroshitsuji spoilers

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otaku553 · 2 months

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Procrastination doodles of sabo for the king sabo au :)

#one piece #sabo #king sabo au #I wonder sometimes if I keep thinking about this au because i like putting my blorbo through crushing existential nightmares #something something. it must feel so wrong to him. to be born like this and know that he’s not suppose to be there #but not having the memories of times in the wild with his brothers to contextualize why he feels wrong or where he’s supposed to be instead #directionless. knowing that he has to exist for some reason but not the reason that everyone around him tells him he should exist for #and continuing to try to bridge the cognitive dissonance through fallacy after fallacy until he is in too deep to escape #anyways. thinking about Him #Him is the academia mentality of ‘just keep going and you’ll eventually reach the light at the end of the tunnel’#‘because you’ve tried so hard to get here and surely you must belong here because you’re so academically highly-achieving’#does that make sense? maybe the parallel is a bit of a reach. I could write an essay about it tbh #I love this au lmao it’s both a lot of projecting and a great chance to be like ‘god I can make him so much worse’

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courfee · 4 months

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yes i used that dean scene as a reference, sue me

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pastawayallday · 4 months

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My first personal drawing after months because Uni is savagely beating me up. It's for a fic I'm trying to get done

#my art #rottmnt #save rottmnt #donatello #will i be able to actually finish writing something? stay tuned #fun fact he was supposed to have clothes on but the anatomy turned out too crisp to cover it up lmfao #ask me about my fic please i need to hype myself up

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solarpunkani · 11 months

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Psst, hey.

Hey you.

Come closer.

Listen to what I'm about to say good and well, alright?

#out of queue #ani rambles #anti ai #anti ai art #solarpunk #solarpunk aesthetic #does this have the official backing of the other 2 event hosts? no i just made this meme on a whim #but also if you try submitting AI art and we find out? or worse if I can flat-out TELL its AI? I'm blocking your ass #one of the best artists I've ever had the pleasure of knowing won't touch the Solarpunk community with a 10 foot pole because of all the #goddamn AI art infiltrating this space. constantly. like even when I'm trying to be on the lookout for it I somehow reblog it anyways #even when I block the tags too!!!! this is a PROBLEM #you want more artists taking part in this community spreading the vision visualizing the future?#STOP REBLOGGING AI BULLSHIT AND CHASING THEM AWAY THEN #how are artists supposed to feel accepted and appreciated and loved by this community when every other piece under the tag is some fuckin #midjourney bs made my scrubbing the internet and spitting out a mishmash of other artists' works and ideas?#i have said it before I will say it again #i would rather see a messy pen scribble on the back of a coffee stained napkin with stickfigures than see some smooth smudgy AI BS again #this applies to AI writing too if I catch an INKLING that your short story even STARTED with some bs chatgpt ramblings you're blocked

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wikiangela · 19 days

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fuck it friday

tagged by @tizniz @bidisasterbuckdiaz @honestlydarkprincess 💖💖

still on my bucktommy bs, I'll be back to buddie but i'm too obsessed with tommy/lou to think about anything else rn lol

so here's a bit of something short I'm wiriting for 7x05 from tommy's pov, idk what this is, what it's gonna be, but I wanna finish it tonight or maybe by the end of the weekend so posting it here to motivate myself and also tell me what y'all think bc the more i reread all of it the more i doubt myself lol

___

It took him some time, plus a lot of self-reflection and just taking it one step at a time, letting himself look at other men, this time consciously and sometimes deliberately, noticing how hot they are, how they make him feel. He let himself feel how they make him feel. It took a minute to stop feeling guilty and ashamed, and to rework all those internalized prejudices that had been ingrained in him his whole life.

He gave himself time, a lot of time, started with just chatting with guys on dating apps, later got the courage for some casual dates, and when he met the man who would be his first actual boyfriend, his first gay relationship, that he genuinely liked, he felt ready to pursue that. It didn’t work out then, that’s just life, but it was a good relationship, because he was ready for it. Now he feels settled and comfortable with himself, feels confident, and knows what he wants. And he wants- he wants love. He doesn’t want to put any pressure on any relationship he might start, but ultimately, that’s the goal. Love.

He really doesn’t mind being this first to Evan. He likes Evan. He has those bright blue eyes that seem to shine their own light, and that wide, excited smile that makes it impossible not to smile back, with that adorable dimple accompanying it, that makes Tommy melt a little every time he sees it. Plus, those perfect, kissable lips he can’t wait to taste again, and the distinctive birthmark just adding to the charm. And he’s big and strong and so hot, too. And he’s just so nice, and so adorable and endearing, and he’s so easy to talk to. Tommy just wants to keep getting to know him, spend time with him, develop this relationship and see where it can go. And with any luck, maybe this one could last, could be something real.

The thing is, Tommy is ready for serious. He can take it slow, give Evan time to figure everything out, but he’d also like to know where he stands. He would never want to pressure him to come out before he’s ready, but he also knows he doesn’t want to be anyone’s dirty little secret. Been there, done that.

Still, he would be fine with keeping it just to him and Evan for now, for as long as Evan needs. But then…

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus @daffi-990

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