#I FUCKIN DUG MY OWN GRAVE

[muchlovekatia]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ DRABBLE —

hate sex with theodore nott.

warnings!: degradation ,, swearing piv sex ,, dead dove don't eat !!

.ೃ࿐ 🎞️

〰️

"fuck— you."

theodore nott was a drug you could not stop going back to. he found ways to intoxicate you even in sleep, even in waking. he'd haunt you in your damned grave. and you got off on telling him you hated him. you made it a known fact, even as he pounded into you with relentless speed and knowing eyes. you couldn't get enough of that drug. he knew it.

"still working at that." that smug grin. with his dick drawing and pushing back into your needy cunt, you couldn't think about much at all. after all, he was the reason your back was arching into him more. he was the reason sweat rose and prickled across the plains of your skin, the reason sounds you'd never even known existed before left your throat so fast and loudly. his dick sheathed itself inside you again and again, each thrust eliciting more and more of that feeling. the feeling within you you knew only he could bring forth. "y'know, since you initiated."

"i— fuck— fucking hate you—" you gritted out, and felt a dark chuckle vibrate against your chest. your eyes were screwed shut and still you could imagine the look on his face. when you finally opened them, you found his own gaze was on yours already. you mewled, twisting, back arching and head throwing back to break the stare. it was so hard to think about hating theo then.

"as you've told me before." his eyes fled to that contact. to his dick in your cunt, to your wetness dampening the sheets and coating him. all of him. you could do nothing but lay there and dig your nails into his back, into his hair, his tip hitting that special spot within you over and over and his abdomen slamming against your pelvic bone in almost a pleasurable, painful way with each thrust. "but you do seem to like my cock, huh? filling you up so nicely. look at your beautiful little cunt, taking me so well. like it was waiting for me. did it fucking miss me?" his eyes were on yours again. then to your tits, jerking upwards every time he drove into you. your face screwed in desire and tears were wetting your lash line. his fingernails dug so lovely into your hips. you couldn't bear it. "answer me, slut. you don't want me to stop, right?" you bristled.

"yes— mhm!" your voice threw out. theo's eyes met yours again. and he smiled so beautifully you felt your toes curl. you felt your nipples harden. you felt yourself dancing across that lovely edge, felt his hard cock retreat and bury back within you. "mi— missed you soo much," you drawled, and still, that grin. it grew wider, even. you didn't have time to hate him. you couldn't give into that feeling too soon, or it'd feed his pride. so you threw your head back again, and it was only pulled back to face him once more. his hand on your chin.

"that's what i fuckin' thought. look at me while i'm fucking you." your knees weakened, a heat filling your core so abruptly you moaned out into the sex-tinted air. the sound of your squelching pussy filled your ears. "such a fuckin' brat. thinking you can act like you hate me when you know damn well it's my cock you get drunk off of." his eyes darkened over. your chest pushed into his when your back involuntarily arched. "it's my cock you go home too, huh? my cock you wait for." your pussy clenched against said cock, face twisting in pure agony as your climax awaited at the end of the tunnel. you were so close.

"please, theo!" you mewled, dragging your nails down his back, fat tears trailing your cheeks. you looked like a fucking mess. a mess that made him almost tip over. his thumb pressed into your lips and you obligingly opened your mouth, desperate. his other hand reached down and you felt his fingers on your clit, eliciting a borderline scream from you. one second more and that same finger was in your mouth. he retracted his thumb and patted your cheek, silently ordering it closed. you did so, lips circling over his fingers and sucking off your own wetness. the bitterness of what he was doing to you.

"good girls keep their fucking mouths shut."

.

yes i'm posting twice in like— 2 seconds. these are two works that have been marinating in the drafts folder for a while now.

[katiapostsss]

DRABBLE:

hate sex with anakin skywalker.

AGH FIRST SMUT FIC IM NERVOUSS

warnings!: piv sex, usage of the word 'slut', degradation, swearing. dead dove don't eat!! (ive never written smut before so sorry in advance for any other warnings i might've left out.)

〰️

"fuck— you."

anakin was a drug you could not stop going back to. he found ways to intoxicate you even in sleep, even in waking. he'd haunt you in your damned grave. and you got off on telling him you hated him. you made it a known fact, even as he pounded into you with relentless speed and knowing eyes. you couldn't get enough of that drug. he knew it.

"if you wanted to switch, you could've just asked earlier." that smug grin. with his dick drawing and pushing back into your needy cunt, you couldn't think about much at all. after all, he was the reason your back was arching into him more. he was the reason sweat rose and prickled across the plains of your skin, the reason sounds you'd never even known existed before left your throat so fast and loudly. his dick sheathed itself inside you again and again, each thrust eliciting more and more of that feeling. the feeling within you you knew only he could bring forth. "y'know, when you initiated."

"i— fuck— fucking hate you—" you gritted out, and felt a dark chuckle vibrate against your chest. your eyes were screwed shut and still you could imagine the look on his face. when you finally opened them, you found his own gaze was on yours. you mewled, twisting, back arching and head throwing back to break the stare. it was so hard to think about hating anakin then.

"as you've told me before." his eyes fled to that contact. to his dick in your cunt, to your wetness dampening the sheets and coating him. all of him. you could do nothing but lay there and dig your nails into his back, into his hair, his tip hitting that special spot within you over and over and his abdomen slamming against your pelvic bone in almost a pleasurable, painful way with each thrust. "but you do seem to like my cock, huh? filling you up so nicely. look at your beautiful little cunt, taking me so well. like it was waiting for me. did it fucking miss me?" his eyes were on yours again. then to your tits, jerking upwards every time he drove into you. your face screwed in desire and tears were wetting your lash line. his fingernails dug so lovely into your hips. you couldn't bear it. "answer me, slut. you don't want me to stop, right?" you bristled.

"yes— mhm!" your voice threw out. anakin's eyes met yours again. and he smiled so beautifully you felt your toes curl. you felt your nipples harden. you felt yourself dancing across that lovely edge, felt his hard cock retreat and bury back within you. "mi— missed you soo much," you drawled, and still, that grin. it grew wider, even. you didn't have time to hate him. you couldn't give into that feeling too soon, or it'd feed his pride. so you threw your head back again, and it was only pulled back to face him once more. his hand on your chin.

"that's what i fuckin' thought. look at me while i'm fucking you." your knees weakened, a heat filling your core so abruptly you moaned out into the sex-tinted air. the sound of your squelching pussy filled your ears. "such a fuckin' brat. thinking you can act like you hate me when you know damn well it's my cock you get drunk off of." his eyes darkened over. your chest pushed into his when your back involuntarily arched. "it's my cock you go home too, huh? my cock you wait for." your pussy clenched against said cock, face twisting in pure agony as your climax awaited at the end of the tunnel. you were so close.

"please, ani!" you mewled, dragging your nails down his back, fat tears trailing your cheeks. you looked like a fucking mess. a mess that made him almost tip over. his thumb pressed into your lips and you obligingly opened your mouth, desperate. his other hand reached down and you felt his fingers on your clit, eliciting a borderline-scream from you. one second more and that same finger was in your mouth. he retracted his thumb and patted your cheek, silently ordering it closed. you did so, lips circling over his fingers and sucking off your own wetness. the bitterness of what he was doing to you.

"good girls keep their fucking mouths shut."

.

uh so yea

im ovulating so what can i say? 😁

anyways, i hope you liked it cause it's my first time writing smut and i'm obviously not that experienced in it— requests are always open! have a lovely day! ❤️

[konigsblog]

If you're not busy, may i send you a request of smut with a slight yandere Graves x reader ? :3

"you're all mine." yandere graves x f!reader (smut)

warnings: yandere behaviour, smut, degrading, masturbation (f & m receiving), dumbification (consensual), gun play, spanking, choking (slight breath play), possessive and obsession behaviour:

a/n: if you dont like this content, please don't flag it! it hurts the creator and you could easily scroll of change stuff in your settings.

masterlist

graves, he was your “master” as he liked to make you call him. his boots thumped against the dark oak wooden floor as he approached the bedroom, where you lied up against the pillow in his shirt - that was definitely a few sizes too big. he came back after a long mission that he described as, "stressful" and "aggravating".

in your mind, you thought he would be wanted a massage and a cuddle with you once he was back, but phillip had other ideas.

he walked into the room, his pants looked tight on him, you could see the outline of his hard cock already. "doll..." he whispered low and dark in your ear. his gear was still on but not for long.

his hands reached for your ankle dragging you down to the edge of the bed, already unbuttoning his trousers. his other hands tore your panties down.

you felt yourself grow wetter at the moment, your fingers entered your tight hole as you bit back a moan. the sight infront of you, your husband stroking his thick member, it twiched in his hands as he panted and groaned while you whined and whimpered. "mmm, doll... don't hide your moans from me." he commanded you. you sped up your pace as you felt yourself grow closer.

he stroked himself lazily, seeming to get closer to his high.

his cum covered your thighs and cunt as you came soon after.

phillip got on his knees, lapping at your juices mixed with his cum. a moan escaped your lips as they fell into a silent scream. his nails bit your thighs and ass as he gripped into them, locking you and in place.

just as you felt another orgasm come, he stopped. leaving you whimpering at he lack of touch. he slapped his cock against your pussy, smirking down at you. "my doll, fuck, y'don't know how much i missed you.." his fingers dug through your hair forcing you to looked at him.

slowly, he pushed inside you, watching your facial expressions. he groaned at the tightness, a gasp leaving your mouth as he fully entered you. slowly, and painfully, he began to move. it wasn't long until he was slapping his hips against your ass while calling you dirty names. "fuckin' slut. soaked for me, hm? begging me for my cock?" he chucked lowly.

you tugged at the bedsheets as you grew close, "m'gonna come in you.." phillip gasped at out. you slapped his chest away, trying to get him off you before he could come in you. to no avail, he did. you whined but that was replaced quickly with moans as your own orgasm ripped through you.

with a quick move, you were bent over his thigh. he picked his belt up, dragging it across your thighs, ass and cunt. "fuckin' stupid whore." he began spanking your soaked slit. "phi-" you were cut off with a harsh slap to your pussy, causing you to mutter out curses as tears prickled in your eyes.

a few spanks later and you had tears falling from your eyes at rapid rate, your face now wet with tears as another slap was sent to your ass. "f-.." you could barely mutter out a word before another one came. "stupid slut can't even speak, hm?" he ridiculed you, mocking you as he whispered in your ear. "ill fuck you stupid if i have to, not like you're not stupid already."

his hands were thrown into his pocket, pulling out a gun, shoving it in your mouth as he degraded you more. "this fuckin" pussys mine? who does it belong to, pet?" the gun in your mouth made it all the more harder to speak, along with the burning sensation in your stomach and red ass. "y..ou!" you gasped out. "that's right..."

he flipped you on your stomach, holding your hips up for him as he positioned himself before shoving himself in you.

you moaned out in pleasure as he roughly slammed himself in you, "f-fuck! yes!" your voice squealed out. your skin was wet with tears, slick and sweat. he panted as he felt the plushness of your ass against himself. "tight pussy, all for me... you're mine never fuckin' forget that."

a slap came in contact with your ass. he leaned down, his chest touching your back as he gripped your neck, choking you slightly. he bit down on your shoulder and ear earning a moan and whine out of you. you felt dizzy as you scratched at him to let go, everything felt fuzzy before he let you go. slamming your head down as he came inside you, coating your insides white, you followed after him, your mouth opened in a silent scream.

pants came drom you as you rolled on your side. phillip lazily kissed you, "mm' love ya' darling..."

[peninkwrites]

How to Bury Your Brother:

A guide by Tommyinnit

crossposted to ao3

~

“You know, the guy known for writing the best instruction manuals on the fucking earth, eh?  The Tommyinnit!  Thought, well, might as well.  Something to do while I dig.  Bet I’m gonna be fucking genius at this shit too.  It’s not… it’s not written down, more like, an unofficial audiobook, ‘cause… cause I can’t write and dig at the same time, see?  Or it’s like a… an oral story that will be passed down for generations!  My wisdom will benefit siblings everywhere of all ages!  Ha.”  A long, heavy pause.  “So, uh.  How to bury your brother.  Well, first thing you gotta do, is, funny enough, dig him out.  He got buried in the rubble, see?  That’s not a fuckin’ universal, but it’s my deal here, so, fuck off.  Um.”

(It was a quiet thing.  For Tommy, things were rarely quiet, but earlier that day, at the start of it at least, he didn't want to make a sound.  As if afraid he was going to wake him.  On the morning of the 17th, early morning, dawn light only just cresting over the server, Tommy went to get him out.)

Tommy’s words are mumbled and accompanied by the scraping of a shovel on dirt.  “Ground is starting to freeze… it is November…”  A pause, he clears his throat.  “Anyway!  Getting ahead of m’self.  I’d get up early.  Early in the morning as you can stand and it helps if you didn’t really sleep the night before anyway, but hike on out there when the sun is just pokin’ its little head up over the trees and… and then you get him out.”

(Tommy was so desperate.  He’d reached the cliffside, realized he couldn’t see Wilbur, and started fighting the mountainside, railing against the rubble with a desperate panic he almost found shameful.  It was hard.  It would get harder.)

“So, you gotta dig him out.  You know he’s under there, but you got no idea what state he’s in, yeah?  And… and it could get ugly.  Uglier even than the fucked up city behind you, but you won’t know until you get in there, so.  Might have to gear yourself up for a bit, alright?  Have a… have a little cry out on the cliffside––not me, obviously.  I’m Tommyinnit, but you might have to––and then you get to digging.  A-And you might get stupid too, alright?  Again, not me, but you might get… might get stupid.  You might start clawin’ your hands all bloody, ‘cause you get it in your thick skull that he’s alive down there.  That he… that he might need you to save him again.”

(Tommy was almost struck by relief when he found him.  Wilbur’s body had not been crushed in the collapse, rather, sheltered.  By chance, an alcove made in the destruction.  Tommy unearthed him, and maybe he could have left him buried right here, right where Wilbur dug his own grave, but he couldn’t do that.  He promised he wouldn’t give up on him.)

Once more, the sharp clang of the shovel hitting dirt.  “Sorry, doing digging.  Distracted.  He’s not alive down there.  Trust me, he’s just not.  You… you saw it.  And you saw it on your comm later, so you know he’s gone, so don’t get yourself all worked up, it’ll be a fuckin’ let down when you see him like that–” Tommy gets choked up, forced to pause.  “ Fuck.  I’m not crying or nothing, I’m just distracted, a-and digging.  And fuck you anyway, nothing wrong with crying!  You gotta get your… your toxic masculinity checked or some shit!”

(Tommy knelt down beside him, and at first he couldn’t bring himself to touch him.  His breathing was shaky as he stared at the blood soaking his brother’s chest.  He buried it and instead fell silent while his gaze wandered up to Wilbur’s open eyes, and a vacant smile that looked so profoundly relieved.)

“Get yourself… get yourself ready, alright?  ‘Cause it’s gonna be fucked up.  He’s gonna be all bloody and his eyes–”  Tommy gets choked up again and cuts himself off.  He takes a shaky breath before making himself continue.  “They’re still gonna be open.  So, you close ‘em.  And… and you ignore the fact that the piece of shit is smiling.  You… you might just be imagining it.  ‘Cause why the fuck would he be smiling?!  No, seriously, what the fuck?  Why is he… why was he smiling?”   A trembling inhale.  “It’s gonna be hard to get him uncovered, and… and you might want to ask for help.  I didn’t, ‘cause I’m strong, you see?  Big man Tommyinnit didn’t need no help movin’ those rocks!  He just… he kept pushing even when it scared him, even when he thought he was gonna hurt ‘im but– I didn’t hurt him ‘cause he was dead.  It… it didn’t hurt him.”  A pause.  “It didn’t hurt him.”

(Tommy put one arm underneath Wilbur’s legs, and the other around his torso.  He'd thought he wouldn't be able to lift him, and it was an awful feeling when he stood and realized how light Wilbur had gotten.  Tommy knew he had lost weight in Pogtopia, but feeling it like that was worse.  He could feel Wilbur’s ribs.  He was stiff from rigor mortis, but Tommy was stiff too from the aches and pains of a battle.  Tommy stood so slowly, afraid of dropping him, and even as Wilbur is too thin in his arms, he was still heavy.  Tommy was slow and careful, even as he knew dropping Wilbur at that point wouldn’t have hurt him.)

“Right.  Right, then, you got ‘im uncovered, eyes closed and all that, next bit is getting him out of there.  Because you can’t bury him there.  You’re not gonna fucking leave him down there.  You’re not.”

(Tommy wasn't sure how he was going to get him out of there, but nonetheless, he slowly turned back the way he had come, and stepped out into the morning sun.  He could have waited and gotten help, he didn't want to.  It was hard.  It was so impossibly hard to step over the rubble and carry him, but he never let go.  He never fell, he just kept walking.  He couldn’t see his feet around Wilbur’s body, not that he tried to, he’d only looked straight ahead.  He’d instead felt his way over the rocks, he’d prayed not to fall and break his neck.  He’d known he wouldn’t be able to carry him far, but he’d made it at least out of the dark and the earth and up on top of the hill that remains intact above the ruins.  No one else was up yet.  Tommy had come early for a reason.)

“So, you’re gonna be careful, yeah?  He won’t weigh much, so you don’t got to worry about that.  Even though it’s probably gonna worry you, ‘cause why the fuck doesn’t he weigh nothing?!”  His rage is cut off by a shaky sigh.  He continues more steadily.  “He’s still a tall bitch, so it won’t be super easy, but you’re gonna make it.  Alright?  The both of you, you’re gonna drag him to the top of the hillside.  Somewhere… somewhere not too far, but somewhere pretty.”

(He made it to the top of the hill before he collapsed, Wilbur hitting the ground, Tommy falling with him, and freezing, stunned and horrified, as he dropped his brother’s body.  He couldn’t keep going anymore.  He just couldn’t.  Tommy didn't cry.  He doesn’t know why he didn’t cry, but he didn’t.  He had stared at Wilbur’s face.  For a moment, weary calm was replaced by sharp rage.  He shut Wilbur’s eyes.  He couldn’t stand the sight of them.)

“Somewhere pretty.”

(Tommy set him down so carefully, as delicately as he could.  He stood on aching knees and unsteady feet, and then he turned away from the body.  Then, he started to talk.)

“Right, once you put him down, all nice and gentle like, even though he won’t care anymore, then you can get on to the digging bit.  I know, feels funny to drag your brother out of the grave he made for one you made, but trust me, mine is loads better.  It’s… it’s gonna be loads better…”

Tommy has an iron shovel.  He started to dig.  It’s November.  The air is cold and the ground not quite frozen, but stiff and difficult to move; rigor mortis has set in for the year.  This is hard too.  Maybe even harder than carrying him.  Tommy digs.  He’s already tired.  He’s been tired for a long time.  Maybe he’ll rest, but not until this is finished.

He is careful and methodical.  He wants it to be perfect, so it is.  He is so unlike himself as he digs out a rectangle, over six feet in length, over three feet in width with such precision.  Then he starts to dig down.

“You’ll mark it out, see?  Make it like, a bit taller than him and a bit wider.  As for me, that makes it over six feet long and three feet wide.  Dunno about your brother.  Measure him, or whatever the fuck.”

His knuckles ache, his palms blister, and his chest feels very tight, but he doesn’t stop.  It’s a labor of love.  He steps down into the grave once it gets too hard to bend down and keeps going.  Once, he pauses.  He’s damp with sweat, the sun has finally broken through, and soon people will come to search the crater.

“It’s gonna… it’s gonna start to hurt.  Holy fuck is it hurtin’ right now, your hands are gonna hurt like a bitch and you’re gonna get all sore–– Which!  To be fair, is because you fought a war yesterday!  Or… Or I did.  Dunno about you.  I did.  We… we won–”  Once more, words broken by a buried sob.  “Did you know that?  We won the war, Wil!  We… oh fuck…”

Tommy cannot stop.  He keeps digging.  That is why it hurts so badly.  When he finally cries, it’s because of how much his hands hurt, his whole body aches, rather than his reason for doing this in the first place.  It’s cool in the grave, sweat cold on his back, the sun not doing enough.  It’s a labor of love.

He doesn’t know what more he can do.  He has run out of ways to save his brother, because there is nothing left to be saved.

There is quiet for a time, save for the sound of digging, and the occasional breathless, whimpering sob.

“You… you gotta dig for a long time, see?  Make it real deep.  Deep enough you can’t see out of it.  That’s when… that’s when you’ll probably get bored enough to write– to talk out a book, yeah?  Write a different instruction manual, though.  I’ve got this one covered.  Even if… even if no one is gonna fuckin’ hear it, it sure beats talking to your dead brother…”

Tommy can no longer see up over the grave.  So he stops.  He claws his way out and finds Wilbur exactly as he left him.  He didn’t expect anything different, but still, the sight of him comes as a disappointment.  He looks no less dead in the sun, skin a sickly white, eyes finally closed, there is no way for Tommy to ignore the blood soaking his chest.  Tommy stands slowly.  He stares, as if expecting Wilbur to move.  To sit up, to say something terrible or something kind, but of course he doesn’t move.  He’s dead.

Tommy wants to shout at his brother.  He wants to scold him for abandoning them, to ask him why? 

“Don’t… don’t bother talking to ‘im, alright?  However much you want to, there’s no point.  He’s… he can’t fucking hear you.  Not like he… not like he ever listened anyway…”

Tommy puts his weary body through one last torment.  He slowly picks up the body, struggling under the weight of it, and despite knowing Wilbur isn’t here, he still tries to be gentle.  He turns to the beautifully dug grave, and he stops.  His whole body hurts.  He doesn’t know how much longer he can bear the weight of it.  Tommy falls to his knees.  He still holds on.  He sits back and holds his dead brother close, hugging him tightly, even as he no longer settles right in Tommy’s arms.

“I don’t… I don’t want to let go… I don’t want to let him go… I don’t– oh, fuck, Wil, I don’t know how to do this!  Please!  Please, I don’t know how to fucking do this!”

There is no reply.

Holding him feels wrong.  He’s so stiff and he smells like gunpowder and dying and cigarettes, but not even 24 hours ago this had been his big brother.  This had been everything he had tried to save, just like that crater over the hillside.

Tommy needs to bury him.  He doesn’t want to wait for him to rot.

“I don’t… I don’t wanna bury him, though…”

Silence.  Perhaps for too long, but finally, Tommy speaks again.

“Right.  Okay, you… next thing you gotta do, is you gotta get up.  You don’t… you don’t fucking drop him in the grave, you put him down next to the grave.  And… and you hop down in it for him, got it?”

As always, he goes through the doorway first, as always, he beckons his brother through, impatient like only a little brother can be.  He pulls Wilbur into the grave with him, and places him gently on the ground.  Maybe he should have brought a blanket.  Or even a flag to cover him.  It’s too late for that now.  What’s done is done, and Tommy doesn’t think he can go back at this point.  If he walks away now, he won’t be able to return to finish the job.

“You… you put him down, real careful like.  A-And you put something with him.  If you can.  You give him a blanket or a flag or– or something important.”  Another heavy pause.  “If you… if you can…”

Tommy climbs out of the grave.  Wilbur does not follow.

“Oh, now we’re getting to the big stuff, lads!  That was just the… just the prep work.  Now we get to the actual burying bit!  Straight forward, really.  You do what you did with your shovel before, just in reverse.”  Tommy takes up his shovel again.  “A-And we don’t look down, got it?  We… we don’t look.”

He does not look down as he buries him.  He just keeps going until the earth is gone, and when he turns to look, it’s like he’s still expecting to see him.  He still thinks he should see his brother there, but there is only the earth.

“He’s buried.  You did it.  Well done,” he says weakly.  “But… but you’re not done yet,” he sniffs and wipes his eyes.  “Dunno about your brother, but my big brother doesn’t deserve an unmarked grave.”  Tommy gets out a large flat stone.  “Dunno what he deserves, but it’s not that…” He mumbles.

Tommy drags a large, flat stone over the freshly turned earth.  He hunches over it, a mess of mud and sweat and day old blood, and he scratches out his name.  That is as far as he gets.  Wilbur Soot.

“Put something nice on it.  Something special along with their name.”

Tommy doesn’t know what else to say.  Nothing would be fair, nor good enough, nor bad enough, for everything his brother is.  Was.

“That’s… that’s all it takes.  You bury him.  Only thing left to do is…” Tommy stares down at his grave.  He cannot say it.  Only thing left to do is leave.

Nonetheless, he does not stay.  He stands, leaning on his shovel, so weighted with exhaustion.  But he still goes back down the hill, to where Tubbo so many others have started to piece the world back together again.  He leaves Wilbur behind and joins them.

[twothpaste]

Thoughts about Porky?

my thoughts on porky are such a vast tangled web of forever spaghetti that i'm not even sure where to begin or what to pin down. the premise of a tormented child ascending to near-godhood out of sheer misanthropic spite towards the whole wide world makes my brain do backflips like a sea world dolphin. i'll ramble a bit about him.

he's ness' foil. just two chubby kids who probably grew up with their (un)fair share of bullying. the only thing distinguishing them was the familial abuse porky suffered, which he inevitably regurgitated. then destiny comes along, choosing ness over porky, and the jealousy just eats porky alive. watching his bestie accumulate friends and accolades, unable to accept it's his own rotten behavior that's driven a wedge between them. gotta imagine the burden of cutting porky off was almost unbearable for ness. somethin' that keeps him up at night, wondering if he'd just been a little kinder, or sterner, or more understanding - maybe he could've saved his old friend? not quite yet realizing it was Not At All his responsibility to "fix" someone who'd dug his grave and laid in it. porky's the kinda bad guy you love to hate, but considering his upbringing, you hesitate to blame the poor schmuck. all he knows is authority and manipulation. if you gave any ornery ostracized thirteen year old unlimited power - instead of empathy and guidance - they'd probably go down the path of vengeance, too.

he's lucas' foil. both of 'em were given plenty of reasons to hate the world. when faced with an unhappy childhood, do you choose love anyways, and move forward? or do you let it become your villain origin story? porky refuses to grow up, to such an extreme degree, that he's gotta drag everybody down into neverland with him. thinks he's got human nature all figured out, when really - kid dropped out in eighth grade - his expertise starts at the middle school lunch table and ends at Lord of the Flies. where lucas seeks to bring about a brighter future, porky's terminally obsessed with the past. barfs up the same old hierarchical capitalist bullshit he grew up with. hoards memorabilia. makes monuments to his warped nostalgia, as if anyone on the nowhere islands knows or cares. even tries to mold lucas into a makeshift ness - one last final battle, one last chance for destiny to stop me, here, take this baseball bat, come get me, let's play. but it doesn't worrrrk, because the gilded past he aches for is long buried, and these people aren't actors in his self-aggrandizing biopic. where lucas wakes up and says, "i don't have to be the same coward i was yesterday," porky says, "me? change? not a chance in hell." even if it costs him everything. porky's real worst nightmare is a world that moves on without him. once he's trapped in his time capsule, that's exactly what he's got in store.

i think he's the sunk cost fallacy incarnate. the sheer momentum of a thousand horrible decisions he can never turn back on. earthbound porky might get a little bit of slack, sure. but given a bazillion years worth of opportunities to change, mother 3 porky actively chose to get worse. what fucks me up most is how real he is. can't call a villain like this "insane", or even terribly exaggerated, when i'm lookin' out the window these days at billionaires, covid deniers, fuckin' terfs and maga hats. some people really would sooner die, or become all-consuming monsters, than admit they were wrong. it's all or nothing. in his eyes, either he's a visionary hero, or everything he's ever done was irredeemably reprehensible - and all the torment and criticism and loneliness he endured was therefore deserved. he can't bear the weight of it, so he simply doesn't. that's what underpins his character, to me. like. the moment he'd admit fault, or apologize, or express an ounce of regret? he'd cease to be porky. denying himself the human capacity to grow, forever, just to spare his fragile ego. could almost pity him. almost.

a perfect villain for both of the stories he terrorizes, and my favorite villain in anything ever. when itoi said "porky is truly a poem in himself" he wasn't kidding.

[adelaidedrubman]

whoa. wednesday whatever

i was tagged today by my beloveds @socially-awkward-skeleton and @direwombat to share a wip, thank you!! sending some as always no pressure tags out to @florbelles @henbased @unholymilf @ishwaris @trench-rot @poetikat @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @schoute @confidentandgood @nuclearstorms @roofgeese @strafethesesinners @corvosattano @v0idbuggy @afarcryfrommymain @jackiesarch @voidika @strangefable @bluemojave @harmonyowl @sukoshimikan @josephslittledeputy @deputyash @fourlittleseedlings @inafieldofdaisies @purplehairsecretlair @wrathfulrook @cassietrn @inquisitors-grave @firstaidspray and anyone who would like to share and @ me!

guess what! we actually do have new wildfire progress! so, you know, warnings for descriptions of amateur cremation services, body horror, and implied drug induced hallucinations/paranoia/panic/etc.

Jess wiped her mouth; rose to her feet. “I’m not fucking sticking around for you building a human barbecue pit.”

“Fine!” Jessie called with a wave of her arm towards the woman marching with quick intent out of the courtyard. “Y’all go raid the church for supplies, then!” 

She reached to pull Sharky back by the shoulder as he moved to follow behind Jess at the order. 

“And I guess I’ll take care of the bodies my fuckin’ self,” she grumbled as she tugged the straps of the backpack of his flamethrower to remove it, throwing it to the ground and snatching the hose gun from his hand. 

“Hey, be gentle with ’er, now — she ain’t used to nobody’s touch but mine, and I —” 

Jestiny squeezed her finger around the trigger to release a burst of fire from its nozzle and silence Sharky with the pressurized whoosh of hot gas propelling it forward. 

The flames quickly caught to lick at the gasoline soaked rags the corpses wore, devouring the fabric in a ravenous frenzy before sinking down to nibble at their flesh with a slow, steady crackle. 

So empty, so hungry, Jestiny thought of fire as she watched it work turning the dead to smoke and ash. Don’t care what it ends up consuming. Just hungry. 

She caught the widening of an Angel’s lifeless eyes as the fire worked up towards their face, causing eyeballs to swell from the building heat just as the flesh surrounding it was eaten away by the flames — then a sharp snap of their neck lifting so that those bulging eyes now framed by ridges of bone showing through patches of roasting skin seemed settled on hers, looking at her. 

Was that one not really dead either? 

A louder pop, a thrashing bend of their spine, flinging their torso back — as if they were raising themselves to the heavens in offering, trying to leap from the flames like a fish flailing as it jumped from the water, mass of bodies joining them to writhe in offbeat rhythm in the inferno. 

Supposed to cut the tendons. She remembered learning in a history course once that the soldiers who dug up and burned Rasputin’s body swore it came back to life, that they saw it rise up and begin walking towards them. But it was just the tendons in his back shriveling up from the heat and twisting his spine, a mundane spectacle of the human body made grander by imagination. Doesn’t happen if you cut the tendons before cremation. 

Just gotta cut the tendons next time, she assured herself as she turned her back to the pyre, hurrying along the pavement and up the stairs leading out of the square depression of the baptistry. 

She stopped as she reached the cover of the white lattice canopy, thinking better of turning left to meet Jess and Sharky in the church and instead hanging right to investigate the structure attached at the opposite end of the archway. 

But even without looking back to the fire, the smell hung in her nose as she walked, the whistle of flesh blistering and popping still finding her ears so that she could practically feel it crackle and bubble just beneath her own skin — as if it were too late, as if she was already burning up from the inside all along. 

She smoothed a hand along the length of her forearm as if to soothe away the sensation — panic briefly spiking as her fingers found gaping holes in the flesh, like the flames really had eaten straight through. 

She drew in a deep breath, trying to steady her lungs on the exhale as she reminded herself it was just the bitemark the Angel had given her. 

[prtyp01s0n]

I need to go on like a weird fuckin ramble about mcrla5 really quick

When they came out with fake your death, that was really them putting and end to mcr. They “faked their death” to get out of it, because they simply weren’t having any fun any more, among other reasons. They knew it was the only way to get out. People can say it was foreshadowing a future reunion all they want but the line “And leave this place the same today” really does it for me that fake your death was supposed to be the end. They didn’t want to go on.

Foundations was the beginning of the return, but I don’t think it’s forever. “We lay in the foundations of decay”, at least to me, really emphasizes that they didn’t plan on ever coming back. They dug their grave, and they were planning on laying in it. The end of the song, specifically “will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays” again emphasizes the fact that they didn’t mean to go on. They were accepting it, we were accepting it. But then that last line. “Get up coward.” Gives me some hope.

It’s them getting up, and no longer being afraid of the future. They started with the new song, ended with the last song they came out with before the breakup and the first song that ever came out. Ending with vampires especially emphasizes that I don’t think this is the end of mcr, but it almost was. “Bring us back into the light” truly seems like them coming back into, well, the light. Not to mention vampires as a creature are an entire  analogy of their own. Vampires are creatures that have died, but were brought back to life, similar to mcr.

Mcr died in 2013. This tour is making the old mcr stay in its grave. This tour is accepting the fact that the old my chem is dead, and embracing the new mcr. Embracing what’s yet to come.

Anyways lolz there’s my two cents

[radamazard]

Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022

Day 6 - Entropy

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

Krook House QueerPlatonic Polycule - Modern Human AU

(Okay, so I was super stuck on this for a whileeeee. For the life of me I just couldn't think of anything for entropy… except for the MLP fan song for Discord. Soooo you're getting that. The song’s a bop anyway~

Also, I've decided now that any Modern Human AU I write for this is just a prototype for the biiiig Bells Hells / Crown Keepers Modern Human AU that I wanna write. It's good practice to get used to writing them all human and outta the canon universe~

Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!)

“You tried so hard to make a hero outta me, but there are some rules I don't obey… and I just wanna cause a little chaos and entropy~♪”

Fuck, now it was gonna be stuck in his head for WEEKS. Everyone knew that when you started singing the damn song absentmindedly, that it meant you were bound to have it bore into your brain and hibernate there for the next fortnight and a half at LEAST.

Which was gonna be hellish, but hey, it could have been worse. Anni could have heard hi-

“Fuckin’ knew it was you!”

Speak of the devil. Or in this case one of his ‘beloved’ partners, who right now seemed to be screaming to be thrown out a window. Defenestrated, if they wanted to get fancy and earn a few brownie points from Letters. ‘Learning is always important!’ after all.

“Do we gotta do this shi-”

“dO wE gOtTa DO tHiS sHiT~? Fuck yes we gotta, I heard your ass singing pony shit, and it's my duty and right to tease the ever loving fuck outta ya!” Anni grinned, the edges of it taking on just a hint of malice, yet only a teasing way. As much as the two bickered and bitched about one another, there was a lotta love there, and neither of them actually wished any harm on the other… nor would they wanna cause it.

Teasing and being a casual dick though? That was fair game.

“When a track slaps, it slaps. I don't control the rate at which shit slaps, An,” Ashton argued in turn, and ignored the pointed eye roll he received in turn. Hey, if she wanted to fight them on this then she'd have to do all the heavy lifting.

“Maybe, but you DO have enough of a brain left in there to still have good taste, right?”

“Low blow,”

“No lower than your shit taste in music.”

“Least it ain't as low as your taste bud count. Lemon juice on spaghetti o’s? What the actual fuck?”

“Fuck you! You’ve just got the taste buds of a five year old!”

“Better the taste buds than the IQ.”

“You callin’ me a dumb bitch?”

“Never a bitch! I'm a fuckin’ gentleman, Anni, you think I'd stoop that low? Am calling you dumb though.”

“Get fucked you sparkle horse loving cu-”

“What are you two fighting about this time?”

Both Anni and Ashton froze, already feeling the disapproving gazes of their partners upon them. Getting the look from just one of them was bad enough, but having both Letters and Milo stare at you like that had a certain silencing effect.

Especially when it was mixed with Milo’s rare ‘what the fuck is pulling me from my work’ tone of voice.

“Anni’s calling me a loser for liking pony songs, like the elitist prick musician she is.”

“Get stuffed!”

“With you? Nah. Gross.”

“I'd be offended if that feeling wasn't fully shared. Cause yeah. Gross.”

“... Is there something wrong with liking My Little Pony?”

Never had Anni gone from being a smug ass bitch to horrifically regretful so fast. The woman may have claimed to the world that nothing would ever make her take back anything she said, but one sad look from Letters… Man, the guilt had rarely kicked in so fast.

“Fuck. No… I was just-” Anni cringed, looking between Milo and Ashton for support. The former raised a brow at her from behind their coke bottle glasses, a hand now balanced upon their hip in a way that just screamed ‘You dug your own grave, find a way out.’

The latter brushed past her, coming to kneel beside Fresh Cut Grass’ wheelchair with only a slight wince of pain. He laid a hand over FCG’s own and offered it a reassuringly squeeze.

“Nah. The ponies are fine by me. And hey, Anni likes The Batchelor, so maybe she should shut the fuck up.”

“The Batchelor is a god damned mas- Right, fuck. Apologies.”

Anni had the decency to look guilty at least, kicking her heels as she gnawed at her lip anxiously. Apologies had never been her strong suit. Nor had any kind of intimacy. But for her partners she was willing to try. They deserved at least that.

“... Sorry. I was bein’ an ass. Just wanted to rile Ash up and didn't think shit through. You're free to like whatever the fuck you like. Cringe is dead and Ash and I personally shanked that bitch! It's flne for ya to like the pastel horses. But you ain't ever getting me to watch it, okay? I’d rather choke to death on actual horse cock,”

“Stunning visuals there as always, Anni.” Milo sighed.

“What can I say? I live to displease~”

“... Thanks, Anni. And Ashton,” FCG uttered quietly, smiling a little as they watched Anni’s cheeks burn and cough into her hand awkwardly. “Oh! What was the song you were singing, by the way? Let me guess!! Smile? No… I'm thinking it was a fan song, right? Oh! I know! Is it the one I showed you last night? Entropy?”

“Damn right it was Entropy! The fuckin’ thing is STILL in my head!”

Letters laughed, the sound as brightly infectious as ever. There was a round of chuckles and snickers, and by the time they all wandered off to do their own things each and every one of them was wearing a smile.

Damn was their good mood contagious.

Just like that dang song.

[sparrowposting]

finally sat down to watch da: absolution and i have Some Brief Thoughts and Jokes and absolutely NO political discourse bc fuck that shit i wanna talk about LOVE

the good

tevinter architecture my beloved

A SQUAD doing a HEIST aka my fave and why da2 is forever my fave game

little tidbits and easter eggs to the games for Lore Nerds 

and then SOME BIG ASS CALLBACKS to the games

hawke continues to be incapable of killing their villains, next is the arishok or orsino ig ??

THEY GOT THE ELVISH NOSE BRIDGES RIGHT. MY BELOVED BIG NOSES.

terrible french orlesian accents

rezaren, this matt mercer looking mf, was an excellent villain. because like. he’s sympathetic. he has good intentions but he’s HORRIBLE and SELFISH and the story doesn’t shy away from showing him as horrible and manipulative. like yes maybe he doesn’t know better and he does care for miriam and neb in his own twisted way. that doesn’t make it right. doesn’t make it okay. doesn’t make him not a slave owner. and this really comes to a head in the dream sequence where he’s completely incapable of understanding why miriam doesn’t want to return to him, and then completely disrespecting her wishes, her autonomy, when she refuses him. he just cant see her and neb as real people even tho he cares about them in a childish selfish way. road to hell is paved with good intentions etc etc etc. like he’s so fuckin bad but also still sympathetic until maybe 2/3 of the way through the show when he goes full villain. 

rezaren, had things played out slightly differently, could have been a dorian. dorian has some GOD AWFUL opinions in da:i and some deeply ingrained privileges and prejudices, esp re: slavery. he learns and grows and becomes better in the inquisition, and possibly leaving tevinter (even under such horrible circumstances) was the thing that saved him from becoming terrible because he didnt know any better. rezaren in many ways is a mirror of that, but slightly worse, slightly to the left, with fewer allies, never having his position of power challenged, etc etc etc. tldr i just think it’s neat :) it’s an arc i really enjoy and im just. obsessed with sort of well intentioned but also horrible people becoming better (or like. dying as full villains in the grave theyve dug for themselves and refuse to exit. either or yknow)

like blind privilege rather than outright malice is how 99% of the irl world’s evil happens and yet it is also where the most irl grace and atonement and forgiveness and betterment is possible. im fascinated by tevinter characters and tevinter in general. im never gonna shut up abt this.

cassandra cameo my beloved 

as much as i hated the overabundance of quips (see below) roland is just. handsome. funny. charming. i saw a man so beautiful i started crying

tassia. her relationship with tevinter is complicated, much like dorian’s and i just. really love the whole ‘the place im from does horrible things and many would call it irredeemable and i understand that but also i think there’s a kernel worth saving there and i am going to work my whole life thanklessly trying to save it even if it wont try to save itself and even if that makes me the bad guy to both those opposed to and those loyal to my homeland’, i just think it’s neat and not at all a personal thing for me and religion :))))

‘no one ever saves us. so we save us’ maybe im sentimental and crying ok. whos to say. big believer in small kindnesses save the world. 

the bad

negative points bc elves are wearing shoes and i like to think of them like hobbits and im v irrationally attached to this

qwydion is just. tall conventionally attractive woman with horns. not a vashoth qunari. where is my giant qunari woman. i demand a giant qunari woman.

suffers from mcu-funny quip disease. like fun quips can be enjoyable. in moderation. not constantly. we’re ALLOWED to have moments of genuine emotion, not everything needs to be counteracted and made light with a quip

some of the crew are caricatures but like. it’s a miniseries. i’ll forgive them. even if qwydion is comic relief and ofc lacklon (the dwarf) is the ‘suspicious untrusting one’

how could they kill fairbanks hes my da robin hood fave minor character and how dare they make me spend SEVERAL EPISODES thinking he was a traitor

the tevinter templars were....effective??? and had influence??? how does tassia have the authority to order rezaren around when in canon they’re just glorified bodyguards and only do what the magisters tell them? why are they actually effective against demons? why the fuck is tassia all like ‘oh no blood magic is evil im gonna report u to the divine’ like????? MAAM THIS IS TEVINTER AND THIS IS A MAGISTER not like. a soporati or laetan mage. how tf did u get the position of knight commander in tevinter if you arent willing to look the other way when magisters do blood magic

haha hawke is human disaster joke but also FUCK MEREDITH SO BAD I HATE THIS BITCH the joke is funny but i dont want her backkkkkkkk even if she WAS such a good villain UNLESS the da2 squad comes back but they cant do that bc anders’ fate is entirely up to the pc. also isnt varric the viscount of kirkwall. what the FUCK is going on in this city

ppl are saying miriam is ‘fenris but better’ but i resent that statement the show tried to do his 7 yr arc in 6 eps and it didnt work (understanably but STILL) and also im a fenris girlie first and foremost forever and ever so i will not stand for any besmirchment of his nearly perfect arc. he’s the PERFECT ‘character made to be a tool learns to be a person and love and be loved’ arc ok.

ik it’s been said but holy shit the dragon animation was BAD

[griefbuilt]

                         Got a secret? Don’t keep it, it’ll take you to the grave.

Good evening, residents of McKinley. If you’ll please find your assigned seats, we have a special treat in store for you tonight. As you take your seats, you’ll notice a placecard in front of you with one simple instruction, “confess thy secrets or sacrifice thy neighbor to earn entry to leave.”. Go on now, look to your left and to your right. Is your secret worth your neighbor’s life? No, no. Don’t try to leave – you can’t. See, we had this planned far ahead. As soon as you took your seats, you were spelled to them until you either sacrificed your neighbor’s life or confessed a dark secret. You didn’t think this was going to be a cheery holiday dinner did you? There’s been far too many secrets and not enough lives falling victim for the abundance of supernatural beings here. One way or another, the night will end in our favor. Secrets or blood spilled - it’s your choice. So? Go on now, confess your secret or sacrifice your neighbor. We’ll be watching.

well,  ain’t  that  a  bitch  ?  now  oliver  wasn’t  about  to  get  all  misty-eyed  and  forlorn  over  a  few  little  secret,  but  goddamn  would  it  be  easier  if  he  could  just  keep  this  one  to  himself  -----  or  if  isaac  hadn’t  come  around  and  started  raising  his  own  seven  kinds  of  hell.  there  was  enough  people  around  who  thought  he  went  back  on  his  raising  without  that  lecture  from  big  brother.  but  that  lecture  wasn’t  nothing  compared  to  what  scarlett  had  to  be  feeling  right  about  now.  jesus,  poor  girl....oliver  bit  back  a  wince  as  she  spoke.  god  was  whoever  wanted  this  a  right  son-of-a-bitch.  she  wasn’t  about  to  get  any  judgement  from  him  (  fuck,  he  thought  the  bitch  was  better  off  six  feet  under  )  or  the  rest  of  the  pack,  but  she  didn’t  deserve  this  impromptu  little  heart-to-heart.  and  then  went  isaac,  and  lord  almighty,  why  did  his  brother  choose  to  become  a  pacifist  at  the  worst  times  ?  clearly  this  family  wasn’t  no  good  and  some  people  just  had  it  coming.....speaking  of  

“  y’all  was  right.  i  did  kill  my  daddy.  “  what  was  the  point  in  sweet  talking  ?  they’d  always  end  up  at  the  same  place:  he  killed  jasper  steele,  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  dead.  “  -don’t  regret  it,  neither.  daddy  had  it  comin’.  “  even  the  lord  himself  would  agree  with  that  one....just  not  isaac.  goddamn  isaac  with  his  pretty  morality  and  misplaced  loyalty.  that  man  hadn’t  been  good  to  the  either  of  them,  but  maybe  it  was  easier  to  pretend  when  you  were  the  favorite.  with  a  sigh,  he  turned  to  look  at  his  brother.  “  i  ain’t  sorry  ‘bout  it,  isaac.  i’m  real  sorry  you’s  stuck  on  him,  but  i  ain’t  sorry  for  killin’  him.  “  that  would  be  a  fight  for  later;  apparently  they  were  going  to  have  lots  of  those.  “  now,  not  that  this  pack  therapy  session  hasn’t  been  real  nice,  but  i  came  here  for  a  fuckin’  meal.  i  ain’t  gonna  pass  that  up  because  of  a  little  spectacle.  “  and  with  that,  he  dug  his  knife  into  the  meat  of  the  turkey.  

[orphika]

I fucked up.

I wasn't there when I was needed. Until it was too late.

I tried to fix things and nearly destroyed us all.

And I don't have any fuckin' friends left. I've got family, and lovers, and nobody else gives a fuck about me. Nobody's gonna rally round if I feel like shit. Not like there's even anything wrong with me that ain't my own fuckin' ego.

I dug a lonely fuckin' grave and now I'm just gonna lie in it a while and watch the stars.

[findingmyself08]

.crack my skull against concrete.

i wanna -

crack my skull against concrete

so hard, a brain concussion shall be the death of me

imma die smiling

imma change the world at twenty-one

unless i -

crack my skull against concrete

imma sing "every night finishes the death of me."

i'll be here -

in an abandoned feeling, screaming -

singing -

feeling out every one of my own feelings -

handcuff me, everyone leaves me

forever healing these scars on my thighs -

crack my skull open

my brains spill all over

whoever finds me, saw nothing but horror

-I'M SUCH A LOSER

my heart has been run over by cars -

so handcuff me against this bed in the psychiatric ward

just like i specifically asked you for

but never leave my side, especially at night -

when all my demons come out to play games

one night, one day - sometime

i'll return to the abandoned building to scream out my feelings

into a microphone

"I DUG THIS GRAVE - FOR US!"

there's a gravesite waiting outside -

in the fading sunlight

you're buried six feet underneath yet i'm still above ground

dying

the concrete slab in the corner of the room is calling my name

throw my microphone through the glass window

put a cigarette to my lips, clouds of smoke -

hopefully, i'll just choke before i smash my skull on concrete

i'm slamming my electric guitar to the floor -

black wooden pieces shatter

nothing really matters

i was too lame as fuck - to go out on a trip with you

so all i've wanted all my fuckin' life was you to be by my side

so here, we go -

three

two

one

i should just die

crack my skull...

now there's blood seeping.

[blackenchanting]

Welcome to Ravens Borough episode 19

Somewhere in the unheard of town of Ravens Borough

The contents of this story are nsfw therefore not for children

The dodge magnum drove down the interstate with the subwoofers booming in the back as They drove in silence

"Fuck. I really shouldn't have eaten that leftover cake." Rob said. As Robin placed his finger on a button causing Rob's window to go down as Rob promptly vomited out the window.

"It was so good though…" Rob said, wiping his mouth.

"This is why it pays to be human these days" Robin said clipping his cat ears to his head

"You'd think it wouldn't affect me so violently." Rob said.

"You're a werewolf. You may not have ears or a tail. But you have the genes flowing through you." Robin said.

"Yeah I know. Ugh. Why must real chocolate taste so good." Rob said.

"One of the seven deadly sins" Robin replied pied

"And I keep doing it every single time." Rob said.

"The other being sex" Robin said honking at a sexy female walking by the side of the road

"Well yeah. But it looks like you still have that bad habit." Rob said.

"Not all of us have a personal Fuck buddy" Robin said

"This is true. Though I'm sure you can still find someone to take care of it from time to time." Rob said.

"Nah.." Robin said as they drove around the corner passing the now leaving ravens burrough sign" as a large purple truck came up behind them

"So what exactly is the opening you have anyway?" Rob asked.

"Part time detective" Robin said

"Sounds perfect." Rob said. As flames shot out the top of the duel stacks on the truck behind them

"Well that's interesting. Usually flames don't shoot out of those unless it's pushed to the limit or backfires hard." Rob said, noticing the truck out of the rear view. As red smoke came out of the stacks Flowing behind it

"Oh god" Robin said as the train whistle came out of it

"What?" Rob asked.

"Oh.. it's you again" he said

"What are you on about?" Rob asked.

"That's the road princess that was riding Eva's ass the other day" Robin said

"Ah. I see. Well no one rides her ass but me. When she allows it." Rob said. As the purple truck was riding his ass

"Should we let them pass or?" Rob asked.

"No idea you wanna kick their ass?" Robin said

"Eh, I could go either way. Flip a coin." Rob said.

"Flip it" Robin said as Rob flipped a coin and it landed on tails.

"Fuck it, ass kicking o'clock it seems." Rob said.

…..

They pulled off with the big ass truck behind them as the driver side door opened

"Oi! You were digging my girlfriend the other day!" Rob said. Aproching the door as Robin watched from the car

"You think you're tough huh city boy" a small ginger girl who was even shorter then Eva said dropping from the truck

"Well not anymore. Because you're shorter than her and she can kick my ass." Rob said.

"Lets go mother fucker" she said adapting a fighting pose

"Fuckin alright." Rob said doing the same.

"Oh god" Robin said looking away as the small ginger put a sunhat on

"Yeaaaaaaah I'ma make you dig your own damn grave and then put you in the son of a bitch" she said

"I regret everything. Just watch the face." Rob said already prepared to dodge.

…

Robin looked away as there were many painful sounds and slams as Rob landed next to Robin on his back

"Welp looks like she wins. Ow." Rob said as a shovel landed next to him

"Oi. You made your point." Rob said.

"Fuck no get your ass down their and dig" she said pushing him down the hill.

"Bitch. Who the fuck even are you?" Rob asked.

"The wrong person to fuck with" she said tossing the shovel down

"Now fucking dig!" She said.

"Fuck that, I already got my ass kicked." Rob said picking up the shovel and digging anyway.

"Bullshit i told you id make you dig your own fuckin grave and put you in it" she said

"The consequences of a fuckin coin toss." Rob said digging. As she hit him over the head with a different shovel and buried him alive

…

With a few digs Robin unburied Rob

"Fuckin hell." Rob said as he dug out of the grave.

"Done playing grave digger yet?" Robin asked

"Yes. Pretty sure that was Ameila's sister." Rob said standing up.

"What gave you that idea?" Robin asked

"The fact that she's essentially a smaller Lucinda." Rob said.

"Or I mean.. there was the license plate on the front that said Madison on it" Robin said

"Didn't get a good look at it while I was getting bodied." Rob said.

"And that's why you don't mess with a girl who's clearly from oregon" Robin said

"Yeah. I get that now yeah." Rob said.

"remember. Just because she has a truck. Dosent mean she wants to fuck" Robin said

"No shit. I think I have a concussion fuck." Rob said.

"Just needed to make sure you understand" Robin said tossing the shovel into the ground next to him

"Fair enough. Let's get going. And get me to a hospital." Rob said

"Mabey" Robin said as Rob glared at him.

….

Ameila flipped up the counter Revealing the stove

"And this is where the stove is when people want something to eat" Ameila said

"Oh that's cool." Eva said. As Ameila hummed the lyrics to put on your sunday clothes as she tied up the back of Evas outfit which was identical to hers

"Oh did I not do it well enough?" Eva asked. Ameila took her hand

"🎶Put on your Sunday clothes there's lots of world out there!🎶" Ameila sang as she spun Eva in the middle of the bar

"Woah, careful now." Eva said.

"🎶Get out the brillantine and dime cigars🎶"Ameila continued singing

"Alright you can let go of me now." Eva said.

"🎶We're gonna find adventure in the evening air Girls in white, in a perfumed night Where the lights are bright as the stars🎶" Ameila sang letting go of Eva

"So what else do I need to know, boss?" Eva asked.

"Put on your sunday clothes sing it Eva" Ameila said

"I don't even know that song. Most of what I listen to is video game soundtracks or rock music." Eva said. as Ameila stopped spinning in the center of the bar. As everyone clapped for the Tabaxi who bowed to them.

"Impressive." Eva said, clapping as well.

"I will spare you the Irish tap dancing this time around" Ameila said

"Fair enough." Eva said.

They slid over to the bar

"Remember always clean your hands after you make the drinks, you can make them however you want I chose to wing it every single time, there are recipe books under the counter if you're a Psychopath" Ameila explained showing her where everything was

"I'm definitely using the book then." Eva said.

"And no I do not write my recipes down. So people cannot steal them To make the fan favorite scarlet kiss. You need this this this and a little bit of that" she said, placing bottles down for Eva.

"Noted." Eva said.

"Good luck" Ameila said giving her a polite slap on the ass as she made her way into the back.

"Hey! Hands off! I'm liable to remove any appendages." Eva said.

"Already way ahead of you hun" Ameila said as her prosthetic arm landed on the counter Infront her.

"That's not what I meant but you're actually not far off." Eva said.

"Sorry figured you could use.. a hand" Ameila said recollecting it and disappearing into the back.

"Right." Eva said.

The hearts of steel boomed with life flashing colors and loud music as two boots entered connected to a pair of faded ripped jeans and a belt buckle that said 'bamf' on it with a shotgun hanging on the side. Going he was a purple haired green eyed werewolf smoking a cigarette. He was in a black T-shirt with purple sleeves and a long purple tie. he pitched the cigarette into the nearest can as he sauntered through the bar. Taking a seat at the nearest stool as he pulled out a box of strawberry pocky

"What can I getcha?" Eva asked.

"Hmm" he said, putting a stick of pocky in his mouth as she glanced at the logo on his shoulder which was a circle with demon horns, a demon tail, and a big F. A. Inside of it

"Take as long as you'd like sir." Eva said.

"Il have a… star killer" he said

"Coming right up." Eva said quickly ducking down behind the bar and grabbing a bottle of demonbrand whiskey, raspberry juice, and a lemon.

Eva deftly pour both liquids into the mixer evenly before shaking it like it owed her money before tossing it into the air and catching it. She then got a chilled glass out cut the lemon in half, squeezed one half into the glass before cutting a slice of the other half and squeezing that into the glass, then poured the mixer into the glass and put the lemon slice on the rim of the glass and served it to the man.

"One star killer, taste the star because you ain't gonna be seeing em." Eva said.

"Demonbrand huh? Not as good as moonwalker beer.. but it will suffice" he said drinking the glass in one go

"Well shit that's unexpected." Eva said.

"Your talking to the guy who's been drinking for about forty years. What did you really expect?" He asked

"Not you to down a full glass of demonbrand and some raspberry juice in one go." Eva said. As he shrugged sliding the glass over

"Guess I'm just special" he said

"Pfft, that's hubris, want another drink?" Eva asked.

"Uh.. sure" he said

"Alright, same thing or something else?" Eva asked.

"Go for it" he said pulling out a small device

"Alrighty then." Eva said making another star killer.

As he pulled an antenna out of the device and watched it intently

"What's that?" Eva asked serving the drink.

"Oh if it told you. I'd probably have to kill you" he said drinking it all in one go again

"Fair enough." Eva said.

"Mhhhm" he said as Katelyn grabbed his shoulders

"So what brings you to the hearts of steel?" she asked

"Good question." Eva said.

"Ran out of steam on my last hunt so I decided to drop by and say hi" he said

"Hello Ian" Katelyn said

"Hello Katelyn" Ian said

"Oh you know each other?" Eva asked.

"Unfortunately" Ian said

"Ohh come on don't be like that" Katelyn said as Eva remained silent and moved on to make drinks for others.

"He's my twin brother" Katelyn said slapping her hand on his shoulder

"Ah. I see. Interesting." Eva said.

"We're triplets" Katelyn said

"Oh god there's another one?" Eva asked.

"Absolutely" Ian said

"I'm afraid to ask who it is." Eva said.

"You should be" Katelyn said

"Just tell me already." Eva said.

"Orion" they said in sync

"That's… but he's so chill and you're both… not." Eva said.

"We're chill aren't we?" Katelyn asked looking at Ian

"Well I thought we were but what the hell do I know" Ian said

"Not like Orion. Dude will find a way to watch his daughter from his armchair without getting up." Eva said.

"Point is he's very different from you two." Eva explained.

"He's always been the weird fucker of the litter" Katelyn said

"Probably why he built a lodge up close to the mountains and doesn't talk to us very often" Ian said

"Yeah the more and more you say it the more that makes sense" Katelyn replied

"Yeah that tracks." Eva said.

"Well shit" Katelyn said walking away

"Well it's been fun but I gotta get going" Ian said placing a random amount of money on the table as he made his exit

"Well that was interesting." Eva said. As Ameila came out and took an exhausted breath and came over "looks like you had your first customer" she said

"Yeah. What were you even doing?" Eva asked.

"Bills," Ameila said

"Ah. I see. You're lucky he only ordered two of the same drink that I actually know." Eva said. Making eye contact with a tall harpie with brown hair and blue eyes walking by the bar

"Interesting." Eva said. As the harpie stabbed a familiar looking knife into the counter which made Ameila visibly uneasy

"You alright boss?" Eva asked.

"Yeah.. yeah" Ameila said disappearing into the back

"Alrighty then." Eva said.

"And so then that's when I realized he was dead" Robin said as he and Rob walked over

"You what?" Eva asked.

They took a seat at the counter

"Anyway, what can I get for you?" Eva asked.

"Anything. I still have a headache thanks to Ameila's sister." Rob said.

"That one's more on you than her buddy" Robin said

"Yeah I know." Rob said as Eva served him a Star killer.

"Il just have my usual" Robin said

"I see." Eva said.

"Uhuh" Robin said

"You don't know do yha" Robin said as Katelyn came over

"It was a cherry popper, however no one's told me what goes in anything except for the Scarlett kiss." Eva said.

"Its actually the one named after the boss" Katelyn said

"Point still stands." Eva said.

"One full metal alchemist coming up" Katelyn said

I'm convinced most of these are all just made up on the spot as their ordered." Eva said.

"Kinda?" Katelyn asked as she pulled two bottles down, sitting the orange punch and vanilla secret on the counter. As she mixed them together and sliding it towards Robin

"I think this one needs more work" Robin said gesturing to Rob

"Especially after I just had to dig his ass out of his own grave" he added

"Yeah that's kinda just the trouble he gets into." Eva said.

"I'd probably be dead without you two." Rob said.

"Correction without her. Because I was thiiiiiss close to just leaving you in there" Robin said taking a sip

[love-amihan]

let me just-

[lighteyed]

this song from season 5 of teen wolf came on and now i’m crying

[dreamerstreamer]

Green With Envy

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] In Dream’s opinion, you and Sapnap are getting a bit too close for comfort. Combine that with a war, and it looks like he’s in way over his head.

Warnings: some cursing (because Tommy exists) + tw// injury

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted some dream angst with a fluffy ending! the story takes place during the attack on L’Manberg. love to see that my first dream work is just packed to the brim with tropes. i had a bit of a rough time mapping this one out, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room, ruffling his hair as he went. “Good morning,” he greeted, collapsing onto the nearest couch.

On the other side of the room, you groaned. “‘Good morning’, my ass,” you muttered. “Mornings suck.”

He let out a small laugh at that, admiring your form sitting across from him. You were easily the biggest anti-morning person he knew. You could probably write a whole essay on why they were just the worst. But right now, in this moment, you looked absolutely adorable curled up in the couch cushions. Your hair was a complete mess, your clothes were askew, and a frown was plastered to your face.

Yet you were still so beautiful.

He wondered how you did it—how you managed to be so effortlessly wonderful in that special way of yours. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he was sure of one thing.

He liked you. A lot.

If only he knew how to tell you.

Sapnap strolled into the room, holding a glass of milk. “Morning, cuties,” he hummed, taking a sip. He glanced down at the grumbling couch lump that was you. “Is [Y/N] being a grump, again?”

Dream nodded, offering him a crooked smile. “You know it.”

For a moment, Sapnap paused. Then a devilish smile crossed his face and he set his glass down on the coffee table. He leapt over the back of the couch, crashing into the space next to you. Leaning over, he wrapped his arm around your smaller figure and pulled you into his chest. 

Dream froze in his spot.

What. The hell.

You let out a yelp at the sudden movement, your frown deepening. “Sapnap,” you said, “what are you—”

“Wakey, wakey!” he cried, his fingers going for your sides in a tickle attack. In an instant, you were howling with laughter, tears springing to your eyes as you kicked your arms and legs. Dream’s throat constricted at the sight, his heart beating faster at the sight of your smile but sinking knowing that he wasn’t the cause of it.

“Snappitus!” you screeched, smacking his head. “Snapmap, stop!” You let out a wheeze. “Oh my god, Sapnap! I’m going to kill y—”

Sapnap finally relented, dropping you back onto the couch cushion with a smile. “That’s the first time I think I’ve seen you smile in the morning, [Y/N].” He jut his thumb into his chest triumphantly. “And it was all thanks to me.”

You heaved, catching your breath before turning to look at him. “Snappitus Nappitus,” you crooned, reaching your hand over towards his face. He looked at you inquisitively. Suddenly, you flicked his forehead, and he fell back with a yelp.

“Dude!” he cried, glaring up at you from where he lay sprawled on the ground. “What the hell was that for?”

You cackled at his reaction, kicking at his armour. “Because you’re an idiot for thinking it was a good idea to do that.”

Sapnap let out a groan of defeat as he asked for you to at least pass him an ice pack for his “grave wound”. On the other side of the room, Dream’s expression was cold. A stone of uneasiness sank to the bottom of his stomach as he stood up, walking out of the living room with a heaviness in his step that he didn’t walk in with.

So, he thought to himself, his gut churning. 

Sapnap, huh?

The sun glared down at the earth from the sky, not a single cloud to be seen. Dream squinted up at it as he surveyed the weather.

The scheduled day to negotiate with L’Manberg over their territory had finally come.

Under any other circumstances, Dream would be having much more fun preparing for the journey, knowing very well that he was about to see some serious destruction. But today, he was in a terrible mood, and for one reason only.

For the past week, you and Sapnap had been spending practically every second together.

When Dream had sent Sapnap to burn down the forest surrounding L’Manberg’s walls, he had invited you to come with him. When Dream had asked you to hunt creepers to retrieve the gunpowder necessary for the TNT, you had brought Sapnap with you.

And he didn’t think it could get any worse, but even now, you were laughing at something Sapnap was saying, your grin shining brighter than the sun hanging in the sky above you.

Dream was tired of it.

“You have the dynamite sticks, right?” he asked, leading his horse away from the house.

George froze, then let out a long whine. “I forgot it in the storage house. Now, I have to go all the way back to get it.”

Despite his terrible mood, Dream let out a chuckle. “You’re so dumb, George,” he said teasingly, sending him a smirk. “How could you forget the most crucial part of the plan?”

George groaned. “I don’t know! I just forgot, okay?”

He waved a hand at him, pulling out his saddle. “Just go and grab some quickly, alright? We’ll wait for you until you get back.”

George nodded, hopping onto his horse. “I’ll be back soon.” With a snap of his reins, he was dashing down the hill toward the storage warehouse. 

The moment he disappeared over the hill, Dream’s smile vanished along with him. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sapnap chasing after you with a stick, his boots in your hand. A twinge of jealousy ran up his spine.

Wait—jealousy? No way. Dream wasn’t jealous, not one bit. 

With a deep sigh, he diverted his attention to attaching the saddle in his hands to his horse. Mere moments after he placed it upon his horse’s back, he heard footsteps approach him. He already knew who it was without having to look up.

“What do you want?” he said coldly, not bothering to look at you as he began clasping the saddle buckles shut. 

You shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Well, um,” you said, “I wanted to come over and say hi—”

“Cool, hi,” Dream said, cutting you off. He turned, looking at you properly now. “You can go, now.”

You looked taken aback by his words before your expression shifted into a frown. “What’s gotten into you, Dream? You’re not acting like yourself.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Oh, am I?” He gestured behind you. “I’m just saying you can leave, now. You did what you came to do, right?”

You were appalled. “Why are you acting like this? I just wanted to hang out with you for a bit before we left.”

Didn’t you get it? He was trying to do you a favour. Before he could stop himself, he snapped, “Why don’t you just hang out with ‘Snappitus Nappitus’?” 

A sinking feeling dug itself into his chest at the pang of hurt that shot across your face. But in an instant, it was gone, your expression hardening. His mouth went dry.

“Fine,” you spat, fixing your eyes on him with a glare. “Maybe I will.”

You turned on your heel, stomping away to the other side of the base, inevitably making your way over to Sapnap to complain. Dream’s eyes trailed after you as you walked off, something stinging behind his eyes.

Why did he say that? He shouldn’t have taken his anger out on anyone, let alone you—the one he cherished most.

He felt sick.

“Dream,” a voice said behind him. “I got the dynamite. Ready to go?”

He turned to see George behind him, seated on his horse with a flint and steel in hand. Taking a deep breath, Dream hoisted himself onto his own horse, picking up the reins with a heavy heart.

“Yeah.”

“Big D! What’s the fuck?!”

Dream grimaced under his mask, the string keeping his patience together wearing thinner by the second. 

He and his SMP had been in L’Manberg for no longer than five minutes, and he already wanted to declare war and call it a day. 

“I’ve already presented you with your ultimatum, Tommy.”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, and it’s a bad one. ‘Give up your land or we’ll light three sticks of dynamite’,” he mocked. He turned to look at Tubbo with a grin. “Tell me that’s not the worst ultimatum you’ve ever fuckin’ heard, Tubbo.”

Tubbo offered a cheerful grin. “It’s a pretty bad ultimatum, yeah.”

Tommy nodded, looking back at Dream with a triumphant smile. “You see, Big D? Your deal sucks. It’s fucking terribl—”

Dream let out a deep sigh. “Tommy, I’m really not in the mood for this.” His form turned toward you for a split second, taking in the sight of your figure next to Sapnap’s before looking back at Tommy. “Let’s just get this over with. What’s your decision?”

The blond blinked at him for a second, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “Oooh, are you having women problems?”

Dream’s grip on his sword stiffened, his fingers twitching. “What,” he said, his tone harsh, “are you talking about it?”

Tommy shrugged. “I’m just saying, you might be having some.” He gestured to himself, smiling pompously. “If you were like me, you wouldn’t have these kinds of problems, because I’m an expert at women.”

The string thinned another fraction. “Sure you are, Tommy.”

Just then, Wilbur spoke up. “Tommy doesn’t know what he’s talking about, ignore him.” His smile mirroring Tommy’s. “But say, Dream,” he drawled, his gaze flickering back and forth between you and him, “do you happen to know the saying ‘green with envy’?”

Dream’s breath hitched. If he said one more wor—

Wilbur narrowed his eyes teasingly. “Because to me, it seems to be you’re covered in green from head to toe—inside and out.”

And the string snapped.

“George,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, “set it off.”

The group looked at him in alarm, their eyes wide as George began, “A-Are you sur—”

“Just set it off!” he shouted, a fury like none other taking over him. How dare Wilbur of all people tease him—taunt him? How dare he? Maybe it was a bad idea, but he was done with negotiating.

It was time.

Without any more questions, Dream watched as George lit three sticks of dynamite, tossing them onto the ground ahead of them. The moment the sticks hit the ground, George yelled, “Go, get out, get out, get out!”

Every member of Dream’s faction turned, rushing for the entrance just as the first explosion rang out. Screams rang out all around him, Tommy cursing incessantly while Fundy screeched. Hidden under his mask, a grin stretched across his face at the sound of destruction. He was a single step away from the exit when Sapnap let out a desperate yell.

“[Y/N]!”

Dream stopped, turning to look over his shoulder. The explosions were still ringing out around him, but what he saw horrified him.

You laid on the ground with an arrow pinned to the train of your satchel, leaving you stuck on the ground. Above you, a chunk of the L’Manberg walls was dangerously close to unlatching itself and falling on you. All it would take was a few more explosions for that section of the wall to come crashing onto you, and Dream knew that they had hidden more than enough TNT under the country to make that happen. 

You were tugging desperately on your satchel, unsheathing your sword to cut yourself loose, but Dream knew there wasn’t enough time.

He didn’t allow himself even a single second to process what was happening—he simply bolted.

In one moment, he was turning to head out of the base. In the next, he was tackling you to the ground, his taller figure shielding yours as he pinned you to the earth below.

“Drea—?” 

The ear-splitting train of explosions cut you off, and Dream felt a surge of white hot pain sear up his back as the chunk of wall slammed into his back. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his armour was cracking. He knew he should have repaired it when he had the chance. 

Just then, his mask slid off his face, landing squarely on your chest. The strap must have snapped, he thought distantly to himself. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and he could just barely make out the sight of you crying out underneath him, your lips forming his name—his real name.

It was a shame he couldn’t hear your voice saying it. He’s sure it would sound lovely.

Then the world went dark.

Something cool brushed over his face, and Dream felt himself being pulled out of unconsciousness.

Where... am I?

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking while then drowsiness seeped out of his eyes. It must be late afternoon, given how warm and light it was. Letting his eyes readjust to the brightness of the day, he took in the sight of the space around him. It only took a few seconds for him to figure out that he was in his room. He recognized those chests, his messy desk, the curtains framing the open window. A breeze must have been what woke him up.

Why am I here?

He thought back in his mind, trying to recall the last memory he had experienced.

The battle. His SMP. L’Manberg. Tommy. Wilbur. Ultimatum. Dynamite.

He grimaced.

Oh. Right. That.

He vaguely wondered if their side had won, but also knew that he was missing something. He could have sworn there was more to the battle than just that. What was it?

He felt a weight pressing down on the bed just next to him. Glancing down, his heart stuttered in his chest at the sight of you sitting in a chair next to him, leaned over and fast asleep on the edge of his bed. The images flashed through his mind.

Taunting. The wall. You. Pain. Heat. Your lips mouthing his name. Darkness.

Ah. He remembered, now.

He shifted slightly, feeling a dull pain shoot up his side. Wincing, he pulled back the covers, looking down. He was wearing a new shirt and sweatpants—clean clothes, thank goodness. Lifting up the hem of his shirt, he grimaced at the sight of the white bandages wrapped around his torso. They definitely extended to his back as well, if he remembered correctly. So that explained the aches. 

Ever so slowly, he wiggled back, ignoring each wave of pain that crashed over his spine when he did so. A few moments later, he had finally brought himself to a sitting position, your head now lying on his lap. Dream smiled fondly down at you, reaching out to stroke your hair. You were beautiful when you were sleeping. Well, you were beautiful all the time, but he digressed. 

He had a million questions swirling around in his head. How long had you been sitting here? Did your back hurt from leaning over for so long? Were still mad at him?

He really hoped you weren’t.

Just then, you reached a hand to rub at your eyes, letting out a soft noise as you began to wake up. Dream’s hand immediately darted back to his side, and he watched intently as you brought yourself back to a sitting position. You let out a quiet groan as you cracked your back. It was only then that you fully opened your eye. He could practically see the recognition set in your eyes as you took in where you were before you whirled, jaw dropped as you stared at him.

“Um,” he began, suddenly feeling shy, “hey there.”

You continued to gape at him, eyes wide. “You’re awake,” you blurted.

His lips quirked. “Sure am.”

You scooted closer to him in your chair, shoulders shaking. “You’re actually awake,” you repeated, almost in disbelief.

Dream nodded, amused. “Yep. You already said that.”

All of sudden, you moved forward, climbing onto the bed so that you were sitting on your knees right beside him. He didn’t have a chance to react before you were leaned into him, weakly smacking his chest with your fists, your shoulders trembling as you did so.

“You’re. So. Stupid!” you wailed, punctuating each word with another light hit. You whipped your head up, glaring at him through your watery eyes. “Why did you do it? Why did you block me from the debris?”

Dream averted his gaze from yours, his heartbeat picking up from how close you were to his. He could only hope you couldn’t feel it through your hands. “I wake up and one of the first things you tell me is that I’m stupid?” he said, trying to avoid the topic at hand. “What a warm welcome back.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Don’t change the subject, Dream. Answer the question.” Your gaze narrowed. “Why did you do it?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I—I didn’t even think about it,” he admittedly truthfully. “I just moved without thinking.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowing. “But why? You should have been worried about yourself first.”

Dream blinked down at you, feeling his heart beat against his rib cage wildly. He was almost positive you could feel it. 

Then it hit him, the realization sinking into his mind as clear as day.

It was now or never.

He took a deep breath, reaching up to hold your hand in his. He watched something in your gaze melt, but the question remained in your eyes.

Luckily for you, he had an answer.

“I like you,” he said. “That’s why.”

You stared at him, stunned. He felt anxiety lump in his throat.

“You do?”

He swallowed it back down.

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then you began to cry.

Almost instantaneously, Dream began to panic. “H-Hey,” he said gently, wrapping his arms around you carefully, “why are you crying? Did I say something wrong? I, uh—” He gulped. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I know you like Sapnap.”

Now, it was your turn to be confused. Sniffling, you wiped at your eyes. “Wh—” Hiccup. “W-What are you talking about? I don’t—I don’t like Sapnap.”

He wrinkled his brow at you. “Sure you do,” he said. “You’ve basically been all over him lately. That practically screams, ‘I love Sapnap’.”

You stared at him, your tears reduced to stained cheeks now and a slightly sniffling nose. “Sapnap and I are best friends,” you said, frowning.

He nodded. “Yeah. And you like him.”

Your frowned deepened. “No, that’s—” You stopped, and he watched as the gears turned in your head, being able to pinpoint the exact moment they clicked together. 

“Dream,” you said slowly. “You think that I—” You pointed to yourself. “—like Sapnap?”

He cocked his head. “I mean, don’t you?”

You stared at him for a moment longer. “Dream,” you said again, “when you jumped in front of me, I was absolutely terrified. I didn’t know what was going on, and I only remember screaming before you just blacked out on me. We won and L’Manberg surrendered, but George had to help me carry you back. You were out for two days.”

He cringed at your words. It was good that you had won, but two days was a long time to be unconscious. He must have missed so much. 

“During those two days, Dream,” you continued, “I practically didn’t leave that chair.” You pointed to the chair you had been sitting on just moments prior. “Sapnap had to drag me down to eat, and I still slept here, as you already saw.”

He gaped, absolutely shocked. You stayed by his side? For two straight days? For him?

He must have said that out loud without thinking, because you nodded and pursed your lips. “Dream,” you said, “do you know what that means?”

He blinked at you. “I don’t see how this has anything to do with you liking Sapnap.”

You let out a groan, hanging your head in your hands. “How are you this dense?” you muttered, your cheeks flushing pink. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

He didn’t think he could be anymore confused. “Say what?”

Lifting your head, your eyes met his, your cheeks burning with heat and hands shaking. “That I like you, and not Sapnap.”

Dream froze, his brain short-circuiting in his head.

You liked him.

You liked him back.

A grin spread across his face. This was possibly the greatest day of his life.

Without wasting another minute, he pulled you into his arms, practically crushing you to his chest. You squeaked at the sudden movement, your heart swelling in your chest at the sudden display of affection. “Huh—”

“Thank god,” he murmured in your ear, his voice soaked in relief. “I genuinely thought that you were going to reject me.”

You wrapped your arms around him, careful to be gentle with his back, and smiled into his shoulder. “I thought I was being obvious, but I guess you’re just really stupid.”

Dream sighed, dizzy with affection and something that felt like love.

“Yeah, I am.”

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room. “Good morning,” he said, eyes darting around the room. “Has anyone seen my—”

He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on you. On the other side of the room, you were curled into the couch like you almost always were in the morning. But this time, you were wearing a green hoodie. His green hoodie.

His heart melted at the sight.

He didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore beautiful, yet here you were, destroying all of his expectations. You never ceased to amaze him with just how wondrous you were.

He sighed, striding to the other side of the room and settling in next to you on the couch. “Never mind,” he murmured, leaning in close to nuzzle his face next to yours. “I found it.”

You giggled at his touch, pushing his face away from you. “Ugh, you’re so cheesy.”

He rolled his eyes at you, grinning. “Don’t act like you don’t eat it up.”

You huffed, turning away from him. “I’m not saying anything.”

Sapnap walked in while Dream laughed at your expression, a glass of milk in hand. “Morning,” he greeted, sitting down on the couch opposite of you two. He spared a single glance in your direction before asking, “Are you two being gross, again?”

Dream‘s grin widened. “You know it.”

Sapnap gagged as Dream leaned in close to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Ewww.”

Turning to face your boyfriend, you pressed a hand to his cheek and cooed. “Clay.” He leaned into your touch, his lips curling. He was right. His name did sound lovely on your lips,

You returned his smile with one of your own, moving your hand away from his cheek and towards his hairline. 

All of a sudden, you flicked his forehead, pain shooting through his skull as he jumped.

“Ow!” he yelped, wincing at the slight sting of your nail against his skin. He rubbed at the red skin, glaring at you. “Why’d you do that?”

You smiled sweetly at him, but he could see your eyes glint devilishly. “Because you’re an idiot for not realizing I liked you sooner.”

From the other side of the room, Sapnap let out a cackle, pointing at Dream. “Suck it, green boy!”

Dream’s brow twitched and a dark grin crossed his face as he stood up, cracking his knuckles. “Oh, Sapnap—”

Let’s just say that Sapnap needed more than a few ice packs, that day.