#just needed to get the thoughts out where someone else might see them.

[greeneyessmize]

Penolise analysis time!

Show Penolise had to break so we can get a healthy Penolise. Let's talk it out.

I think we really need to see how the dynamic of Penelope & Eloise's friendship was unhealthy for both of them.

- Penelope deferred to Eloise's thoughts and wants almost all the time. She might try to cajol Eloise to her way of thinking, but it was nearly always a gentle thing that she easily let go. She never fully contradicted Eloise and put her foot down.

- Penelope deferred to Eloise out of fear. Who was Penelope's one friend that she was able to be close to in a socially acceptable and public way? Eloise. As someone who as a bullied kid got down to only one friend at times? I sure did my best to always be on their good side no matter how I felt about things. No matter the cost or what hurt was still held.

- Eloise has been encouraged to have her voice, to have it loudly, and has been rarely contradicted in any meaningful way even in her own family. She thusly values her own opinions above all. She states herself that she just can't understand why others don't see the world like her. And her cutting comments to nearly everyone around her shows that if full HD color.

- Eloise is the fifth of eight children. Even as the second daughter in that brood, she doesn't have much say over things that matter in the home or in her family. So, she stretches for every scrap of individuality and independence she can find. She has to be different at any cost. And she must always be right.

These factors combine into what we have witnessed in the show so far:

- Penelope clams up to keep peace with Eloise as much as she can, she keeps LW a secret because she must have something somewhere where she is in charge and allowed to express herself freely and actually influence people and events. She gets that nowhere else in her life.

- Eloise runs rough shod over any dissent from Penelope because Pen is so mild in her disagreement that it can't even penetrate Eloise's ego. It's always Eloise's ideas, Eloise's adventures, Eloise's desires. And since they are hers, surely then must also be Penelope's too.

When Eloise discovers that Penelope is LW, not only does it feel like a betrayal for the scandals revealed by Pen, but it shatters the mirror she assumed Penelope was.

Eloise has to learn that Penelope was always her own person with separate thoughts and feelings and ideas and triumphs. She has to learn to listen. She can't yet, but she needs to listen to Penelope's story, all that she ignored and all that Pen withheld. Moreso, she needs to try to understand why Penelope has written the things she has. This will be the only way for Eloise to start to grow up. Eloise has to learn that her perspective is only a small part of her relationships with other people.

Penelope needs to show Eloise who she really is. She has to be comfortable showing when she disagrees. She has to give herself permission to be herself. This is hard because to Penelope, she is only loved conditionally. She is only loved by her mother for doing as she is told and for briefly having Debling's attention. Her sisters never even gave her that. Her dad? Pretty much absent. And the second Eloise found out she was LW? Gone.

I think when they finally manage to perform what I outlined above, that we will see Penolise 2.0 and it's going to be so much better. It can have balance, it can have understanding, and be a deeper friendship than either of them knew was possible.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Let's go enjoy the sun and 55!

Hopefully I'm doing this correctly eksoqheb-

Let's go enjoy the sun!

Haru might have convinced you to help out for their fundraiser so let's see who are the three people who come to spend the evening in Jabberwock

Wc: ~1,8k

“Is everything ready?” Haru asks from the door of Jabberwock while he carries out a very homemade stand under his arm before setting it down. It's the equivalent to a child's lemonade stand but rather it read ‘jabberwock fundraiser’ in big black letters

“Are you honestly doing this?”

“We are really in need of money, ren!” He pouts before saying something to Towa who was humming in agreement.

“Why are you even here? You aren't even part of Jabberwock” Ren looks up from his raid to side eye you.

“Haru looked pretty depressed while he vented so I decided to help”

“Are you stupid or spineless?” a sigh leaves his lips and he doesn't wait for an answer before focusing again on his phone.

“Stop bothering them, Ren! At least I heard what you said so now you only have to wait on visitors and charge them”

“And you forced me to not take shifts to do what I do for my job?” 

Ignoring him Haru pulls a marker and writes down the prices.

500 yen for 30 minute foraging group tour with Towa

800 yen for 30 minute capybus ride with Haru

But when you reach your price for essentially frolicking around the hills and sunbathing your breath scapes your lungs

“So expensive”

“Don't undersell yourself!” Haru chimes and towa hums “I'm sure you will get us more earnings than you think!”

“That is like 2500 diamonds in Shock of clans” Ren comments, and it makes you remember when he spent 30 minutes thinking if buying diamonds was smart. Next he throws a sly smirk  “seems like someone else can take care of the cashier for me”

“Then you can go feed the salamanders! Such good thinking Ren!” Haru chimes.

“Forget it, I just remembered they weren't good at math"

“Hello, senpai” Sho smiles as he hands the money to Ren, who was still bitching about now having to pay proper attention to his job and not the game.

“oh? I didn't expect you to come by, Sho!” quickly you walk around the stand and hug him. Seeing he paid, you link both of your arms and start leading where Haru told you was your ‘station’.  

“and leave you with whatever pervert might come? After you helped around the truck some weirdos came asking when you would be there again” 

“Mhm, so you decided to be the weirdo?” You two walk down a path between some overgrown red cap mushrooms that were as tall as trees, this would be such a good place to record an Alice in wonderland movie.

“Here I come trying to save you from perverts and this is how I get treated?” Sho feigns being hurt, his hand slapping his chest “so what were you supposed to do?”

You throw yourself on the red blanket laying down on the floor before smiling knowing he would crack up “ I'm hosting a flower themed tea party” and your hand signals to the glass teapot with lotus designs and the matching lotus shaped teacups that hotarubi lent “and if you want I can make you a flower crown” without missing a beat he laughs “to be fair, I thought I would lead a tour or play cashier” 

“And they ended up having you serve tea?” You nod “and you didn't complain?” you nod again “well, are you going to pour me or what?” He sits down next to you, soon drinking the jasmine tea.

For the hour that he booked you two mostly chatted about how he was doing, how he was getting closer to Subaru, and how his food truck was going. It was so nice to be able to chat with Sho without Leo interrupting or him dividing his attention between cooking and receiving clients but every few minutes his phone would start buzzing making him frown until he checks who is sending the texts.

“Oi, smile” Sho raises the telephone and takes a photo of you making him a flower crown with some dandelions and wild flowers.

“keeping a photo for the memory? I would have fixed my hair if you were gonna to photograph me” 

“Leo is texting me nonstop, maybe this will stop him a bit” he puts down the phone and grabs one of the cookies that were on the plate, they are the typical chocolate chip cookies from the kiosk but that are a worthy accompaniment.

Not even a few minutes later Leo uploads a post on wickchat and Sho gets a notification, from his scowl you can guess he isn't happy. In his screen there is a story with a snarky comment mocking his friend and soon the comments flooded with people sympathizing with him.

damn, my friend bailed out of a hang out to go out with his crush who doesn't even like him

“That asshole” the comment and the cluck of his tongue slip without thinking, soon getting your attention from the almost finished craft.

“Is it that bad?” Curious, you take your own phone from your cardigan but before even being able to type Leo's user in the search bar Sho throws himself at you, arm quickly swatting away the phone. Effectively ensuring you didn't see the post but making him lose balance and fall over just in time for Ritsu and Ren walking in.

“Hey, YN, can you watch the stand for a sec? He wants to go on a tour and I can't find To-” his eyes widen when he sees the scene “what the…”

“If you  desire to file for sexual harassment I would be honored to be your lawyer in the proceedings”

“Wait a minute this isn't what it looks like!” 

“He just lost balance, there is no need to jump to conclusions”

“No need to feel ashamed, there are two visual witnesses to attest, I'm sure Darkwick will respond”

Soon enough, either because of embarrassment, Ren looking at him with thinly veiled disgust or Ritsu pushing you to file a restraining order, Sho leaves soon after entering jabberwock.

“Tsk, why would you bring me here?” Jin scratches the back of his head, icy blue eyes almost closed due to the sunlight he isn't used to.

“Hermits can be prone to vitamin D deficiency, and I saw this as the perfect opportunity for you to take some sun”

“Go to hell and die, asshole” Jin barks at him between clenched teeth but Thoma doesn't bother with him and goes to the stand.

“Morning, Thoma!” You wave as he gets closer

“inspector? I wasn't expecting to see you here”

“Yeah, Ren left me here while he led a first year to Towa’s tour” your hand points to the wooden slate with the three options and prices.

“Oh? I didn't hear that there were different tours” Thoma grabs his chin, looking over the proposals curiously. Behind him Jin is kicking dirt and cursing under his breath, if he could teleport with his sword why is he here still?

“Yep! Towa just left with the foraging party so he shouldn't return for a good few minutes, but Haru should be back soon”

“Hmm… I do see your name here, do you host a tour of your own?”

“It isn't quite like that” you laugh a bit “we decided that I shouldn't be alone with the anomalies just in case anything goes wrong. I just have a sort of tea party” 

“That does seem more like Jin's thing out of these options” Thoma mumbles lightly

“Oh, right now I'm taking care of the stand so I can't really entertain people” out of nowhere Ren’s hand lands on your shoulder, prompting you to give him his seat, last time you refused to he pulled his floatie around your torso so you couldn't move. He had a smile from ear to ear, sadistic brat.

“did you decide what you want to do?” Ren uses his customer service voice, barely different from his normal voice, just somehow more lifeless. If that was possible.

“we both will go with YN” Thoma pulls his wallet and pays. Ren hums while counting the money.

 Jin scoffs seated on the checkered blanket, a smirk on his lips “so you are going to be waiting on me again, servant”

You roll your eyes at his comment, even if this time you were technically serving him “yeah, yeah, it was indeed on the description” a soft smirk forms between your lips seeing a way to tease him. you turn around to face the teapot you ask “jasmine or black tea?” your hands fiddle with the lid, acting as if you were going to open it and put leaves in.

“Fine then, I want black tea”

“Wrong, it's jasmine” as you turn around to serve it and see his annoyed face and Thoma's amused one “this teapot never runs out of warm tea but it's always Jasmine” silently he complains but still drinks the tea, getting slightly more annoyed from the fact it tastes good, soft flowery flavor that leaves a nice sweetness on the tongue.

“Isn't that quite the useful anomaly?” Thoma muses, watching how slowly the liquid inside swirls from side to side and starts going up, filling itself again.

“I thought the same, Subaru was so nice for lending it to us for a day! He said to take it as Hotarubi’s support” you can remember clearly how he offered it before assuring that he didn't mean that he expected Jabberwock to help his dorm if anything happened! And that it wasn't like he was expecting anything like that and- luckily Haku popped in before his dorm leader had a panic attack.

“Isn't that nice of them? I'm sure we could use a source of warm drinks in Frostheim” 

“Haku told me that the wait list for it can get pretty long, around two months at a time” idly your hand brushes the grass, plucking a white flower growing close to the blanket and you bend the stem to make a small ring. Seeing Jin's pale hand resting on his lap you might as well give it to him but before you lean to the right and grab Jin's hand he moves it.

“Don't even think about it” like a cat with a too cuddly owner, he swipes his hand behind his back.

“Fine, Thoma give me your hand then” you lean forward but before you can grab Thoma's hand Jin snatches it “oh~? I thought you didn't want it”

He stuffs the ring in his pocket “Tsk what you give to your king can't be taken back even if you want to so stop whining”

When the time finished they both walked back to frostheim when Thoma hums softly a song.

“Do you want to die? bastard” when he flips him off the little white flower is in the next finger to the middle finger 

“Did I do something to anger you? It's just some notes” and he keeps humming the wedding march.

[meganelixabethh]

I know I won’t get it- but I want Sunrise on the Reaping to be about Effie Trinket- it would be such a good book!!! All we really know is that the book starts on the 50th reaping and that it’s a look at propaganda. We also know our girl Suzanne only writes when she has something to say- and what better time to make the Effie Trinket Point than now?

Don’t get me wrong- I love to read the fanfics of Effie being disenfranchised from the top of the first book and helping the rebels every step of the way- I live for it- but I also don’t think it’s reality for the canon. Effie Trinket is a character with grey morality at best in the first book. No she’s not organising the games, or planning them, she’s not the iron fist that forces the children to comply nor is she the driving force behind the tradition- hell if she didn’t do it someone else would, right? But she picks the names. She chooses to be close to it. She isn’t as horrified as she should be

SHE. IS. COMPLICIT.

But if you asked her- if you sat her down and said heart of hearts, do you care about these children? She would say yes. She has a complete mental disconnect between the harm she is causing and the compassion she feels for the people being harmed. This is a direct comparison to the modern approach to harm. Just look at Palestine.

I also don’t believe Effie saw anything wrong with the games until one very specific moment. She looked at the glass ball at the 75th reaping and saw a single piece of paper, and she thought ‘this isn’t chance. This isn’t a game. This is a choice and I don’t want to pick up that slip of paper’. I whole heartedly believe it took an emotional closeness to the person being harmed to make her realise all those people were just the same as her- EXACTLY LIKE WE DO IN THE WEST.

Further details under the cut. TW for death, implied SA and pregnancy loss.

So the book starts with the 50th reaping- Effie is between 6 and 16 depending on how old you think she is. I personally think she’s about 8-10. I also think this is the first games where she’s really gotten involved in and is interested in the whole thing from start to finish. She watches the reapings and is absolutely enraptured with Haymitch from the moment he gets on stage- full on little girl crush mode. She follows the whole game and is so happy when he wins. This is the summer she decides she wants to work in the games. She follows the games every summer, gets a glamorous games job in the Capitol when she graduates (I think she went to uni tbh our girl is smart) and then became an escort.

When she’s offered 12 she’s annoyed- after all she’s the darling of the games circuit and she’s put her time in- but 12 is the only job going and if she wants the promotion she needs to take it. She thinks fondly of Haymitch’s games though. She no longer has her little girl crush on him, but she assumes the drunkenness must be an act for the Capitol, some kind of play. When she gets to 12 she realises it’s not. She sees how broken he is. She sees that this destroyed him and she just… doesn’t get it. She develops a fondness for him, still completely believing in the games, and they work together happily enough as far as she’s concerned. She starts dragging him out of bed and shoving him into nice clothes to make the district look good at first, but then she does it because she thinks it might be the only time he has anyone making sure he looks after himself. She is genuinely sad when their tributes die every year. She cries in her room at night after they go, and Haymitch can hear her through the wall when he’s sober enough.

Then the 74th happen. She loves Katniss and Peeta- I fully believe that. She likes them from the beginning, she agrees they have a chance, and when she’s not trying for sponsors, her and Haymitch sit in silence in the penthouse, watching and watching and watching. She grips his hand tightly for hours at a time, eyes almost unblinking and fixed on the screen, knees drawn up to her chest. It’s the first time he sees her as human, and she almost breaks his knuckles during the finale with the mutts. The moment they win, she lets out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding and went to celebrate her first victors. She deliberately turned her face away from the horror because it was easier to not feel the breadth of it. She does exactly what we did to Ukraine. What we continue to do to Palestine.

To be completely clear- she still thinks the games are right through all of this. When she comes back for the victory tour she still thinks this is all fantastic. That mental disconnect is still there. But then eleven happens. If I’m remembering right she gets blood on her and is freaking out about her dress but I would like to see that from her side. I want to see that an innocent man was shot through the head so close to her, his blood and brains splattered across her dress and her skin. I want to see her freak out and everyone assume it’s about the dress but it’s actually about the fact she saw the light leave his eyes. This is the night she goes to Haymitch. She asks him for a drink and she asks him if he thought the man felt it. He isn’t kind to her. He asks her if she ever wondered if the kids felt it? If he felt it? This is the first time they sleep together. She doesn’t spend the night in his cabin. Their physical relationship continues but nothing else changes.

Then the quarter quell- she’s upset when Snow announces the rules. She feels hard done by but also scared for Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch. She understands that she’s avoiding the issue in her mind but she clings to the idea that the games are good so she doesn’t have to face up to the horror she helped meter out. It’s that glass reaping ball that does it. That glass ball with a single slip of paper in that breaks the back of her indoctrination. It all falls on top of her all at once. Her sobs after the bloodbath, alone in her room, the desperation she felt, not just for Katniss and Peeta to live, but for her to not have to watch them die, the man in eleven, the quarter quell, Hatmitch’s sharp words, the drink she craved after she saw it, the smile she plastered on, Haymitch’s hand gripped tightly in hers, the most genuine connection she’s felt in years and oh god are you supposed to be this fucking tired when you’re only 35? She looks at that paper and she is almost incandescent with rage. She loves Katniss and she doesn’t want to be the one who says her name. She doesn’t want to do this anymore. She doesn’t want this life. She doesn’t want the games to happen at all. She’s done.

But now she’s afraid. She’s seen avoxes, she knows what happens to rebels and she’s not quite brave enough to say anything to Haymitch other than veiled comments. She’s not sure he agrees with her and he’s not sure it wasn’t an accidental turn of phrase. The moment the arena blows out she’s dragged away in handcuffs. The prison is harrowing. What little hair she has is shaved off and she spends hours having questions thrown at her that she doesn’t have the answers to. She’s beaten, electrocuted and starved. Her bones are broken, they pull a few of her teeth out and some of the things they do are so awful she can’t even bring herself to think about it inside her own head. She doesn’t feel brave. She doesn’t have the answers to give them and she’s not sure she wouldn’t tell them if she did. She’s too Capitol for the rebels and too district for the Capitol. She’s not rescued, she’s released at the end of the war. Well, ‘released’ is a strong word. The guards unlock all the doors and tell them they have been pardoned and then walk out. She drags herself outside, clutching the walls and collapses in the courtyard as a humanitarian aid worker rushes over.

She spends the first tumultuous month sedated in a hospital bed, blissfully unaware of Coin’s assassination and the last games. When she comes to, Haymitch is sat at her bedside, looking haggard and tired. She looks better than she did on the floor of the courtyard, but not by much. When he sees her open her eyes he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He apologises for not managing to get her out. She knows she should be cross with him, but she can’t find the energy to blame him. They’ve both wasted so much time already. She pushes herself up shakily and wraps her atrophied arms around his neck, telling him that it doesn’t matter, that he’s here now. When he lowers her back down, she asks immediately after Katniss and Peeta. He tells her what happened in as painless terms as he can find, and when he’s done, she can barely keep her eyes open, tears tracking silently down her hollowed cheeks. He gently kisses her on the forehead and says he’ll be back tomorrow. It takes her a long, long time to recover.

She finds out the rest of what happened while she was imprisoned and hospitalised in dribs and drabs. Some from him, some from news, some from conversations she overhears. It takes months and months before she tells him, in halting sentences, when happened in the prison. She doesn’t tell him everything. Some things are too awful to know. They’ve not resumed their physical relationship, but they feel inexplicably drawn to one another, and in a fit of impulsivity, he invites her to come to 12 when he leaves and she does. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions, but she does tell him, eventually, all the things that led to her renouncing the games just before the rebellion. He admits to her the doctor told him she was pregnant when they found her, but miscarried while she was asleep. She can’t get out of bed for days afterwards and he brings her food and water until she’s ready to get up again. She’s glad he knows in a way. She’s glad she never had to tell him.

The next summer rolls around, and Effie is finally well enough to walk up to the woods outside the district and spends all day picking wildflowers. She ties them into attractive arrangements just like her mother taught her, using brown string instead of satin ribbons. Haymitch is in the newly built square when she arrives with her flowers. She lays them all gently on the ground, one for each child she reaped, including Prim. Haymitch walks over to her as she bows her head, slipping her hand into his. She says she’s sorry, he says ‘I know sweetheart’ and the book ends there

I know we aren’t going to get this, it’s not even a possibility but a girl can dream.

[iwaasfairy]

Daddy Toji using his daughter at a placeholder for his late wife. Obsessed with breeding her and making her into the perfect housewife

tw incest, dirty talk, daddy x daughter, grooming and traditional role stuff, age gap, slight size

You’ve got your back to him when you bend at the waist and hum, distractedly glancing between your work and him when he clears his voice. “Oh, daddy! I’m almost done here. Could you call Megumi nii to the table too, pretty please?” Your hair sways over your back when you straighten up, place the gloves on the stove and go to get some plates from the cabinets — for which you have to stand on your tippy toes. A few seconds of trying where your approximation of a shirt rides up even higher on your sternum, and he gets comfortable in the doorframe.

He’d hate it more if you were going out dressed like that for anyone else. Luckily for him, you know your place. You’re a good girl. “What’re you doin’, squirt?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Not that it really matters. “Come here.” After a few more moments of fluttering around the room, you finally cast your pretty eyes on him, and let them catch his gaze. You bite your lip, then let his hand pull you in by your neck to snuggle into his chest.

You lean up to kiss under his chin, tickling the stubble, and drag your face down his throat devoted as you are, until your face can rest onto his pecks. “Made dinner for you and niichan! You forget to eat if I don’t, so I thought it’d be good.” Heat creeps up onto your face when he trails his fingers down your neck to loop under your spaghetti straps, arms still looped loosely around his waist.

“That so?”

“Is that okay?” You quietly ask then. Your eyes search for approval so blatantly, and your lips puff out in a little pout that makes him smile. Instead of an answer, he pulls you closer by the base of your neck, and pushes his lips to your crown. Your hands smooth over his forearms, picking at the hair of them absentmindedly. He doesn’t mind. It’s cute.

“‘Ya like helping out in the house like a good little wife?” He can feel you nod against him, and the way your lips brush against his heartbeat through his shirt. “Yes, you like helping? Or yes, you’re trainin’ to be someone’s little housewife.”

Your arms wrap a bit tighter, and a puff of air comes through the fabric. “I wanna be good for you and Gumi nii, is all. If daddy asks me to do something of course I will… But as for being someone’s housewife…I don’t- I…” When you turn your face to look up at him, you’re only inches apart. He can see the thought before it comes, and you go to pull onto his shirt where his heart is. Tugging for attention, for him to put you out of your misery. He knows it means ‘help me, daddy’, even if you can’t say it out loud.

He can’t help the grin that tugs at the sides of his mouth, and he squeezes your soft cheeks between his fingers to keep you in place. And you basically melt. “You got someone in mind who you wanna serve like that, then? Is it Megumi nii?” His low voice makes you shiver, and bite back a noise of your own- but only barely.

“Agh, d-daddy.”

It’s cruel. But you’re just so fucking adorable when you’re tripping over yourself in need of his approval. “I think you know exactly what you want in return for all this, hm?” His mouth hovers close enough to yours to feel your breathing on his lips, count every speck in your eyes. You’re burning up, and your hands start gliding around his chest like you’re searching for purchase. “Do you know that little housewives also serve in other ways?”

Your eyes flutter when he whispers. “I know that.” Your voice is whiny already, throwing on a winning pout that he knows for sure works on Megumi. You might not be fully conscious of it, but you’re a little vixen in the making. Which is exactly why you’re not going anywhere without him. “Daddy~” You whine when he lets the silence linger with his hand on your face, and your fingers finally dig into his biceps to pull yourself closer to him. You’re basically melting yourself to his front before he allows you another bit of give, and his lips brush against yours.

“What’s it you want as a thank you?” Just close enough to make you look so frustrated you might cry. Instead of responding, you bite your lip, and shift between both legs, pushing them together. You can’t quite say it, but you’re not subtle. The grin travels up his cheeks, he can’t help it. “Wanna show daddy you know something about serving, s’ that it?”

There’s an unintentional glint in your eye. “That’s it, ain’t it, baby.” The way you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water has him walking you back until your thighs hit the table, and you let out a noise that has his brain tingling. If you didn’t make it so fucking easy, maybe he wouldn’t tease you like this. “Tilt your head back. Let me see your pretty, little body. You’re such a daddy’s girl.” Maybe he’d be content letting you fly out of the nest on your own. But you stare up at him dumbly, embarrassed eyes flicking all over the room, as your breathing pinches. “Who knew you’d grow up to be such a little whore…”

“Daddy.”

You know what you’re doing. Panting it with such a little whine that it's making his groin all hot, blood rushing down. He can feel his balls pull, and how his cock twitches to life when you moan. “Daddy- love you.”

His lips slide from your forehead straight to your neck, ignoring the way you crane your head to get closer. Instead he wraps one hand around your thigh, and pulls it up to make room for his waist between your legs, as he places a kiss on your throat. “D-daddy, I-,” heavy breathing punctuates your struggle, and you whimper, “my body f-feels- weird~ And I’m lightheaded.” There’s another little noise, before you press your center back against him instinctively, and he places teasing kisses down the skin, dragging his stubble where it makes you shiver. “Tell me what to do, please.”

“Nothing,” Toji chuckles instead, “let it happen. You wanted this, right?” He pushes you down onto the table until you’re squirming and kisses become tongue and teeth, and your hands start grabbing at his wide shoulders. Your whimpering only increases, and his center needs the friction your body can provide. He could feel shame about the precum dripping down his cock even without proper touch. But he’d be pretending. “You wanna serve daddy like a real wife would?”

He wants to, too. Daddy wants to feel that little daughter pussy squeezing around his cock too. Crossing that line is as easy as breathing, when it's you. His fingers drag up the inside of your thigh until you freeze up entirely when he drags them over your panties, pulling back to watch.

You look so fucking cute innocent and unknowing and woefully underequiped to handle any of this. Embarrassment plays in your eyes in the form of big, glittery tears that wobble on your lash line as he pushes a little more on your slit, feeling the wetness seep through. And you swallow. This is making him so hard. Your pants, faint and desperate, make his cock rock solid in his sweats.”Y-yeah. Wan’it.”

“If you don’t say it properly, I can’t help you. What do you want?” The look he gives you doesn’t leave room for discussion, and you squeeze him a little closer with your legs. Voice desperately trying to hold back the whines. Thick fingers grind the panties into your slit to rub circles over your clit, before he peels away the undies to let them snap back. “The food’s getting cold, we’re running out of time.”

“Daddy~ Please!” You pant, pulling his hand closer to your pussy. It takes a few seconds for you to think over the possibilities, before you finally let out a cry. “Wanna see daddy’s body. Please. Wanna touch it.” You pull at the elastic of his sweats, and look between your two bodies with unfocused eyes. Your bitten lips are puffy and full of blood when you release then from between your teeth. “Wanna be rewarded like a ‘good little wife’ would. Please? Please.”

That’s all you had to say, doll. He pulls your panties down just enough to reveal your glistening pussy to the warm, kitchen light— before smiling down at you. With one hand he pulls up the shirt over his shoulders, while the other grips his hot, throbbing cock through the already sticky, dampened fabric. A few dry pumps, before he’s pushing it down until his thick cock jumps out. Reddish, hot, and twitching in his hand. “Open your legs more. And give me your hands.”

You let him wrap your hands around him so easily, whispering pleas when his cockhead kisses your pussy. “Now lead daddy inside you… That’s it~”

[a-mint-bear]

Jacob (Subby Yandere) Headcanons

🐶Jacob: Puppy Dog in Puppy Love🐶

bit longer than i thought it'd be, so lore under the cut

● Jacob grew up with crap parents who never paid him any attention. They were a couple of horrible, rich monsters who hated being married almost as much as they hated being parents. He was raised by a series of nannies, they never stayed on longer than a few months, his parents didn't want him getting attached. He always wondered what it would be like to have someone he loved and who would love him and only him.

● On the outside he seems nice enough, if a little awkward. He knows how to talk to people and navigate social situations, but it's all on the surface. He doesn't learn people's names unless it would put him at a disadvantage not to know. He has no friends, he never really felt the need to connect with other people. Most rub him the wrong way. But you just feel... right.

● Before he confesses, you seem to be the only person he can't figure out how to talk to. He doesn't know how to act around you, what the right thing to say is. At first it pisses him off, like why are they so much more difficult to figure out than everyone else? Who do they think they are, making him feel this way? Then he sees someone flirting with you and... oh. That should be him. He should be making you laugh and why won't you smile at him like that?

● He wants all the milestones with you. If you aren't the marriage type, he's more than happy to just be together forever. He wants to move in with you right away, he sees no point in "taking things slow". But he'll hold off on some things if it makes you more comfortable. He'll wait as long as it takes.

● Kids are a toss-up for him. He would absolutely see a baby/kid as competition for your affection and want you all to himself, but if a kid (or kids) would be important to you, being a dad would just be another thing he could do to make you happy. At some point, being a parent wouldn't be a job/role for him (a job he'd be happy to do regardless). The first time the child shows him affection, it's like a switch gets flipped. He breaks down, realizing that they're HIS family too, just like you. He becomes an obnoxiously loving and involved dad. Dad Yandere. Daddere.

● If you have (a) beloved pet(s), again, they're competition for your affection. It would be like a "I don't like you and you don't like me, but we both love [y/n]." relationship where he just acts like a big baby when you're loving on your pet and not him. He would never neglect or mistreat them, but you can bet he gloats to them like "Aww, aren't you cute. But [y/n] thinks I'm cuter, yes they do, you little dummy." while giving them scritches. He was never allowed to have a pet growing up so he doesn't "get" why people get so attached.

● He has a tendency to try and isolate you, he wants you all to himself. But this can be negated using his submissive side. If you're the boss, telling him exactly how things are gonna be, rewarding his good behavior or punishing the bad, he's putty in your hands. He can't say no to you.

● If he ever made you upset with him, he would freeze up, panicking at the thought of hurting you. Or worse, losing you. He might try and egg you on to punish him to make up for it, to "make things right". If he ever made you cry? He's in crisis mode. He's crying too, begging you for forgiveness. He's offering anything and everything to make you not hate him.

● He works as a Software Developer from home and does freelance IT work on the side. He's very tech savvy and definitely didn't use his skills to hack into any of your accounts to find out more about you when he was working up the nerve to ask you out. At least not since he confessed. He's better than all that now, of course.

● His yandere traits come out if he's left to his own devices. He gets nervous that you're unhappy with him and acts out by being a brat and trying to keep you home with him. You can lovingly reassure him that you're happy over and over and it helps for a while. But the only thing that quiets his jealous, paranoid brain is putting him in his place, reminding him he belongs to you and only you, punishing his brattiness and telling him he's your good boy.

● Full yandere mode: You try and break up with him. I say "try" because he would be stuck in the denial phase for a good long time. He thinks you're testing him to see how loyal he is, that even you pushing him away can't get rid of him. He hacks your computer and bugs your house, he breaks in to watch you sleep, leaving gifts for you before you wake up. You start dating/flirting with someone else? They get attacked on the street, no witnesses, with a warning to stay away from you or he'll come back to finish the job. If you tell him you're in love with someone else? It won't be long before you can't get ahold of them.

You can try and get rid of him, but he's your good boy, whether you like it or not.

[hearts4golbach]

hii!! I hope you're doing well 🤲🏻 can I request an angsty fic for johnnie where the reader finds put she's pregnant?

Just Give Me a Reason.

pairing:

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

a/n:

title inspired by P!nk.

warnings:

a lil angst, one abortion mention (not by johnnie), crying

you sat on the cold tile floor of your bathroom in your tiny apartment. you clutched a positive pregnancy test. no, you weren't worried about who the father was. you knew who it was. tears streamed down your face as you stared down at Johnnies contact.

you two were best friends. you, Tara, Jake, and Johnnie were the group. neither Jake nor Tara knew about what had been going on behind the scenes with you and Johnnie. after parties, days off, when Jake and Tara were busy, it was just the two of you. and that alone time together, unsurprisingly, lead to hookups. now, you two weren't together, necessarily, but there was something there besides sex. although, for the sake of your careers, neither of you wanted anything official. this changed everything for you.

you finally mustered up the courage to hit call. the phone rang for what felt like ages before you heard Johnnies smooth voice on the other end of the phone. "Hello?"

you took a deep breathe, trying to prevent your voice from shaking as you spoke. "Hey, can you come over? it's an emergency." You managed to sound slightly calm, but Johnnie could read right through you.

he hesitated for a moment. "Yeah, let me call an Uber. i'll be there as soon as possible." Johnnies voice was more serious now. he hung up the phone before you could respond.

you picked yourself up off of the floor of the bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. the other two positive tests were sitting on the counter. you set the third one next to them. you sighed, hanging your head as you closed your eyes. you weren't too sure what to do. how would you tell Tara? the very last thing you wanted to do was get an abortion. you wiped your tears and splashed cold water on your face. you needed to keep it together whenever you broke the news to Johnnie. you didn't want him to see you fall apart, even if the reaction was positive, which you were sure it wouldn't be. if it was a horrible reaction, you and Johnnies relationship would collapse. you might even lose Jake and Tara in return.

There were 4 knocks on the door before you heard it open. "y/n?" Johnnies voice called down the hall.

"i'm in here." You called, your voice steady.

he followed your voice into the bathroom. his eyes landed on you before darting around the bathroom. "What's going o-" he stopped and stared at the three positive pregnancy tests lined up on the edge of the counter. "y/n." he said solemnly.

"Johnnie, i-"

he cut you off, "i thought you were on birth control." his voice was monotone. He showed no emotion in his words.

"i am." you stuttered, pulling the pills out of the drawer and showing them to him. "See? i- i don't know how this happened."

he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. his eyebrows were knitted together. "i- i don't - you're sure it's mine?"

"Johnnie, you're the only person I've slept with. The last time I slept with someone else was over a year ago." You looked up into his light blue eyes. There was a twinge of fear, as well as love. "Have you been sleeping with other girls?" you asked. it was a question you had been avoiding for a long time.

"No! i- no, I haven't. im just - don't you think we're not ready to be parents?"

"Do you think you're not?" You furrowed your eyebrows. "If I have to raise our kid on my own, I will." Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. "we have stable jobs. were not horrible people. but, if you're not ready -"

"I'm ready. I've always wanted a family. you know this, y/n."

"But do you want one with me?" The hormones finally kicked in. tears began to stream from your eyes.

he finally pulled you in, hugging you tight. he kissed the top of your head. "Yeah, with you. there's nobody else I'd rather it be with."

"we aren't even officially together, johnnie. are you sure this is what you want?"

"we can change that. I love you, y/n. I want to be with you more than anything. we can raise this baby together."

you looked up at him. "Really?"

he kissed your lips gently. "Yes, really. will you be mine?"

"I always have been. so, yes. of-fucking-course." You smiled through your tears.

"wanna tell Jake and Tara tomorrow?" he led you out of the bathroom and to your bedroom.

"Yes. do you think they'll hate us?" you teased, laying down on the bed. he laid next to you, pulling you closer.

you laid your head on his chest. "I doubt it. I think they'll be excited to have a niece or nephew." he ran his fingers through your hair. "im so happy. We'll have a family together," he whispered.

"Me too."

[inawickedlittletown]

Rather Be The Hunter Than The Prey (BuckTommy) - 3/3

Summary: Buck doesn't tell Tommy immediately about the big change at the 118. Tommy decides to do something about it.

Author's note: Title comes from Natural by Imagine Dragons.

Everyone on Ao3 wanted a part two for the little coda I wrote post-episode 7x10. And I guess I did too. So now it's a three parter.

Part One - Part Two

Read on Ao3

-

“No,” Buck said. “Tommy, this is a horrible idea. You don’t know her.” 

Buck hadn’t even really told Tommy much about Taylor. Most of the LAFD knew her, though. If not for breaking the story about Jonah, then because of the book. She’d made her name in other ways too and Buck hated whenever he spotted her at a call or when he turned a tv on and she was on. He had succeeded in avoiding her for so long and didn’t want to bring her back now. 

“I’m just saying that we need her because she crosses lines. She’ll pursue the story once she knows there is one and she can help us take out Gerrard.” 

Buck didn’t think that Tommy really understood who Taylor was. He had listened to Tommy’s whole plan. He’d even taken notes as Tommy detailed everything he set in motion. He knew that Tommy was making sense, he was just a little wary about Taylor. He’d already made the mistake of trusting her in the past and this time around, they couldn’t afford her to go off the rails even if that was maybe exactly what they were counting on. 

“I guess maybe she does owe me one,” Buck said. “I’ll call and see if she will come meet with us.” 

“That’s all I ask,” Tommy said, smiling at him in a way that made Buck want to kiss him and maybe even drag him back up the stairs to his bed. 

He called after breakfast and after they had cleaned up his kitchen. Tommy was at his side, offering support. At least, Buck wasn’t the only one that had had to talk to an ex this morning. 

“Buckley, why are you calling me?” Taylor said. 

“Hey, Taylor,” Buck said. “I, uh, I was hoping we could meet up.”

She laughed at him. “If this is some kind of booty call, I’m not interested.”

“No…no, nothing like that. I’m…I’m dating someone. Listen, it’s about a story you could report on. It’s better if we explain in person. Are you free at all today?” 

“Yeah,” Taylor said after a pause. “I can be. What kind of story are we talking about?”

“Getting an awful man out of a job that puts him in a position of power that could determine life or death,” Buck said. 

“Oh,” Taylor said. “That sounds…yeah, I can meet up.” 

They set up a time and Taylor agreed to meet at the loft even though Buck thought it might be weird for her. It didn’t seem to be probably exactly because of who Taylor was. He’d already piqued her interest and now nothing else mattered. 

It was a few hours later when Taylor knocked on his door. Buck braced himself for seeing her again. Then, he walked over to open the door. She was still Taylor. Her red hair was in loose ringlets that framed her face in a way that made her approachable and cute. She did look awkward for a moment, but then she smiled. 

“Hi.” 

“Uh, hi,” Buck said, letting her in. “Come in. Do you want a drink?” 

“Water,” she said and headed straight for the table, where she deposited her purse. “So what exactly is this—” Taylor trailed off. 

Holding the glass of water in hand, Buck turned. Taylor was turned towards the stairs where Tommy was making his way down. Buck almost laughed, because in a way he was getting used to seeing the reaction that people had to Tommy. He couldn’t blame them — couldn’t blame Taylor — Tommy was certainly eye-catching. 

He set her glass of water on the table and that seemed to break the spell.  She immediately turned to him, question in the raise of her eyebrow. 

“Tommy, Taylor’s here,” Buck said. 

“Thought I heard the door,” Tommy said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Casey says everyone he got in touch with is in.”

“Taylor, this is Tommy,” Buck said. 

“Hi,” Tommy said. 

Tommy offered his hand and Taylor shook it. She looked thrown and though Buck had seen Taylor in many different forms and states, this was still somewhat new. 

“Take a seat,” Tommy said. “Evan can start explaining.”

“Right,” Buck said and he motioned for Taylor to sit. She did, watching Buck carefully. 

“Bobby got replaced at the 118 through a series of circumstances,” Buck said and he explained it all, knowing that he was probably leaving out more than he should. 

Taylor drank some of her water before speaking once Buck was done. “Sounds like an asshole to me,” she said. “What does this have to do with me?” 

“Well,” Tommy said, taking his own seat. “We were hoping that you would help us expose Gerrard for exactly who he actually is.” 

Taylor leaned back in her chair. “You know, the last time I did a profile on the 118, the department shut it down. Made it into a fluff piece.” 

“And yet you still managed to use your connection to Evan to get that story on Greenway out, putting his job and reputation at risk,” Tommy said. 

Buck inhaled. He hadn’t expected Tommy to bring that up. 

Taylor had the decency to look contrite. She didn’t even try to defend herself. She did look from Tommy to Buck and back again. 

“Defensive, I like it,” she said in the end. 

“You also published an unapproved book about the LAFD,” Tommy pointed out. “I have the approval, or at least the consent of the Assistant Fire Chief,” Tommy revealed. “Well, to an extent.”

“Who even are you?” Taylor shot back. 

“My boyfriend,” Buck answered. 

Taylor laughed and laughed and then she clapped her hands. “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming. Maybe I should have, come to think of it. Alright, boys, I guess count me in.” 

It took a very long two weeks for everything to be worked out. Every shift that Buck had leading up to it made him antsy. He was glad when everything was finally in place. 

Chief Williams scheduled Taylor’s stop by the 118, including the invitation for Tommy to be there. She also made sure that Chief Simpson was available. Buck had helped to set up cameras to capture everything that went on with Gerrard in the time leading up to the interview. He’d had to be a bit sneaky about it, but Taylor had provided everything they needed. At Tommy’s instruction, he didn’t share their plan with anyone. It meant that the cameras captured everything as organically and as genuinely as they happened. 

Gerrard making a limp hand motion at Buck was right there as clear as day. Gerrard making a comment about Hen only lasting for so long because she was practically a man. His dismissiveness of Chim’s contributions as a paramedic when they lost someone on the way to the hospital. The way he berated Ravi and said stuff about how the department was going nowhere with the diversity hires. All of it was captured on camera and more. So much more. 

Eddie, Hen, and Chim thought it was ridiculous that Taylor Kelly was coming to interview them. Gerrard shared the news after returning from a call. Buck had to pretend that he was upset about it too and when Gerrard got wind that she was Buck’s ex-girlfriend, it seemed to make him want her there more. 

Buck had never seen him more welcoming of anyone, the way Gerrard was with Taylor. It was yet another big difference between him and Bobby. He treated Taylor like an honored guest, offering her coffee and water and showing her around with warmth that made him seem fatherly — or maybe grandfatherly considering his age. It was eerie. It almost made Buck doubt that the plan would work.  

Taylor took her time. Buck hated her a little for it, for how she asked them about the rescue of Bobby and Athena and how it felt to be rewarded for it. He could see how Hen and Chim took it all in as much good humor as they could muster. Eddie was monosyllabic. 

Then, she singled out Gerrard. 

“This is so pointless,” Chim said. 

They were in the kitchen. Buck had sort of steered them there. Hen had been throwing him a few looks as if she suspected something. Meanwhile, Taylor was with Gerrard, cameras pointed at him. She was keeping things light at first. 

Chief Williams and Chief Simpson hadn’t arrived. It was possible they wouldn’t, but Buck hoped they would. 

Tommy got there and they all saw how Gerrard stiffened when he walked up the stairs. 

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic. Well, some kind of demonstration outside. I think some people heard there were reporters here today.” 

“Some people?” Hen asked. 

Tommy didn’t answer. Buck just hoped the live feed was working, they’d figured it was better if Gerrard didn’t know other people were there to see it all.

At the table, Gerrard suddenly stood up. “What kind of question is that?” he said, louder than necessary. “Things were better when people knew their place. None of the quotas for diversity that need to be met so no one gets their tiny little feelings hurt.” 

“I just thought it’d feel great to have such an inclusive firehouse,” Taylor said. “To lead the 118 which I know is quite diverse and doesn’t look like what the fire department even in LA looked like in the past.” 

Gerrard just stared at her. 

“Of course, I do know you aren’t happy that diversity exists,” Taylor said. “I wonder why take the job at this house at all.”

“What are you talking about, girl?” 

“I’m talking about how you act around the people you are supposed to lead. The very same people that literally run into fires to protect the public who you in turn are supposed to support and protect and lead.”

Gerrard didn’t respond. His jaw was tightening. 

“Earlier today I posted a little preview for the interview. Just some of the things I’ve uncovered along with the many many complaints made against you by your own firefighters. Some investigating into your placement here also revealed a few things I’ll be looking into after this.” 

Buck watched Taylor a little bit in awe. Tommy was at his side and he felt the heat of him from how close they were standing. Ordinarily they wouldn’t stand so close, but it was nice to just rub it in, especially when Gerrard looked their way. How he glared at them like his eyes could set them on fire. 

“She’s really a spitfire, isn’t she,” Tommy said. 

“That wears off,” Buck said. 

“What?” 

“Being impressed by her.” 

Tommy laughed. 

“What is happening right now?” Ravi asked. 

“Someone needed to take out the trash,” Tommy said. 

“You said people were here?” Hen asked. 

“Do you know how many queer first responders there are in LA?” Tommy asked. 

It all happened quickly, in a way. Gerrard responded with anger and vitriol and demands that Taylor take her videos down once his demands to see them brought Taylor’s tablet out and ready. It wouldn’t even matter if she took them down, though, not with the reach that Taylor had these days and not with the work that had been put into getting them out into the wider public. Buck had even gotten Josh to share it over the dispatch twitter. 

Gerrard was still demanding Taylor take the videos off when he seemed to then realize that the videos had come from inside the firehouse. That’s when he turned on them. Rushing towards them, face red in anger. His eyes seemed to narrow on Tommy and Buck and how close they stood. Buck almost moved away, but Tommy didn’t let him. 

“Which one of you?” He asked. “Putting cameras in here without anyone’s consent? Spying! Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

“Who do you think you are?” Chim asked. 

“I’m your Captain,” Gerrard ground out. 

“Bobby is our Captain,” Hen said. 

Gerrard pointed his finger at Hen. “So, it was you!” 

Hen shook her head. “No, but I give props to whoever did it and I wish they had let me help.” 

“This is hostile! It’s an attack and a breach of—”

Gerrard was closer than ever, coming at Chim and Hen. Tommy stepped away from Buck. He got between them and Gerrard. Buck could see that it was taking everything for Tommy to do so and despite how big of a man he was literally and figuratively, this was still hard for him. Buck wanted nothing more than to step forward and offer him a hand to hold. He knew he couldn’t. Tommy had asked him not to if it came to it. 

“I did this,” Tommy said. 

His voice was little more than a whisper, but he cleared his throat. 

“No one deserves to work under you, to be belittled every day while doing a job that is already full of risk and that requires trust. No one needs to hear the vitriol that comes out of your mouth or the little motions because you think it’s only men like you that deserve to be here. They don’t. I won’t stand aside and let you do this to anyone. I won’t let you hurt them or put them in a position of getting hurt.” 

“Of course it’s you, Kinard. Still a coward, still a groveling people pleaser. Should have known you like to be down on your knees like the faggot you are.” 

Buck felt like his heart had gotten caught in his throat. His ears were ringing. He wanted to pull Tommy back, wrap him up in his arms at the same time as he wanted to just throw a punch. Buck heard a general gasp go around them and it was louder because it came from the people down below. Casey and everyone that had come with him. 

“None of you deserve to work here. In fact, none of you do. I will make sure this is the end of your careers with the LAFD,” Gerrard said. “You’re all fired.”  

“No,” Assistant Chief Williams said. “They are not.” 

They saw Gerrard’s face go from red to pale white. He sputtered, but no words came out. 

“Chief Williams is correct,” Chief Simpson said, at her heels. “I didn’t know why she insisted I come down here, but I’m glad she did. I see now I made a mistake in placing you here, Vincent.” 

Buck stepped towards Tommy, reaching for his hand and he felt Tommy grasp his tightly. 

It didn’t matter what Chief Simpson said to Taylor about what she could air, or how he wanted to handle things. Not with the crowd that Casey had gathered and not with all the things that Taylor had gotten up on Instagram and TikTok. He couldn’t put a stop to it, not even the spin that Taylor managed to put to things because as Buck had pointed out, Taylor wouldn’t just allow them to dictate things. This time, it was to their advantage. 

After all, it was Taylor that found the connection between Councilwoman Ortiz which became a much larger partly unrelated story. One that Taylor was hell bent on investigating. 

“She knew about him,” Taylor said to him as her camera man was packing up. “Ortiz asked him to put himself forward for this job. I just don’t know why.” 

Buck told her to talk to Hen and Karen. 

After it was all said and done and Bobby was reinstated as Captain, Buck found himself tucked into Tommy’s side out in Hen’s backyard where Hen and Karen were hosting the celebration for everything beginning to revert back to normal. 

“You’re a little bit scary, you know,” Chim said to Tommy.  

“Not really,” Karen put in. “He’s on our side.” 

“I just did what I wish I had been capable of doing a long time ago,” Tommy said. 

Buck kissed his shoulder. It was a little early, but he really did think he wanted to keep Tommy forever. 

[faksyan]

Long ass essay about my ocelhira vision because they don't leave my brain and I have Thoughts.

It's alway weird to me when they are unironically portrayed to be unable to communicate, agree on anything, or outright hating each other pre-Venom reveal, because there's next to nothing to suggest that besides like. two arguments they had. One of which was about Quiet (you know, the supernatural super-soldier assassin they were letting stay on their base), and the other about the kids they rescued, both very complicated and sensitive topics. Kaz is bitter and angry and snaps at everyone past his rescue, but it couldn't have been all like that for the whole duration of their partnership, obviously.

They were each other's life lines for almost decade. Imagine thinking you're the only person in the world who has devoted their life to BB to such an extent that you'd do everything for him, only to find out there's someone else who gets it. From Ocelot's perspective especially. He's never been properly allied with anyone, he trusts no one and has never had anyone to rely on, aside from Snake (and I'd say even that was pretty one-sided), always the spy and always hiding. And then, when he learns that BB is in a coma and it's like his whole world is crashing down around him and he truly doesn't have anything left, in walks Kazuhira Miller. Even the circumstances in which they both met Snake are similar. They tried to kill him, he beat them into the ground, and then spared them, when he absolutely could've not. They are both insane about him in the same way. Forget jealousy or animosity, that might just be the only person in the entire world who can come close to understanding Ocelot.

Yes they are murderers and torturers and horrible people, but it's still explicitly shown that they do not treat the ones they look out for the same way they do their enemies. The idea of them hitting each other with hammers is fun, but what about them having no choice but to hang on to one another, because there's no one else left, and if one of them gets too hurt, or dies, or walks away, it's all over. If one sinks, both sink, and I definitely see either of them trying to drown themselves throughout the years, just to drag the other down. It's toxic co-dependency, in a way where they have to keep each other going. So they lick each other's wounds when needed, take turns dragging each other's dead weight forward. What they have is hanging on by a thread that is Snake, but at the same time, their relationship is ultimately good for them. In a sense working at gunpoint is good, because it reminds you that you actually want to live, keeps you being productive and doing what you are supposed to do. Maybe it's not really loving or caring, but it also is, in a very profound and fucked-up way (it is loving and caring to me. if you care).

They made Dimond Dogs together. Like, all of it. Sure, after Venom's awakening he gets them more funding and more people, but the rest? All them. And they keep it afloat for years, built on nothing but their dedication to the same man. They're both shown to have played an equally important role in it, meaning they both spent (presumably) more time with each other than with BB. Kaz trusted Ocelot to a point where he didn't ever visit BB in the hospital and didn't doubt Ocelot would take care of him. Probably against his will, of course, but still. if he could stomach working with Ocelot for so long, there couldn't not be some trust that he'd keep the most important person in their lives safe. Kaz agreed to be the bait, believing Ocelot would get Venom out and organize his own rescue. Ocelot kept Kaz's glasses on him throughout all of Cyprus and trip to Afghanistan.

That's what makes the betrayal all the worse - that it wasn't just some rivalry or reluctant cooperation, not after a decade. At that point what they shared wasn't out of necessity. It was a nine-year bond, longer that either of them spent by Snake's, or anyone's side. From the beginning both of them knew they would choose Snake over each other if it ever came to it. But I don't think Kaz thought it would. screaming into the void.

[bisquicklite]

I was today years old when I realized that my mom's suicide may have been (at least partially) motivated by the Y2K panic (she off'd herself like a few days before 2000). She was bipolar and a little on the fucking crazy side when it came to conspiracy theories. Super into astrology, crystals, fairies and apparently she thought Jesus was an alien. Looking back, I can see how she was one of those people who is just super ready to believe in the supernatural/alien shenanigans. And for those who remember pre-2000 times, Y2K was kind of a big fuckin deal.

So with that in mind... Is it bad that I'm a little offended that she didn't try to off my brothers and me too? Y'know, do a little 'mentally-ill-mother-on-child homicide'? Pack us all in the car and drive us into the Gulf after dosing our ice creams with a few benadryl?

Like. You thought the world was ending, and have decided to opt out of the struggle of living through the End of Days or whatever... That's totally fine! Shit, suicide is my go-to plan for if the end of the world were to ACTUALLY happen!

But you're going to let your kids go through that? You really thought we were more well equipped to deal with the end of the world than you?

What the shit mom?!

[cutearose]

okay but how do you ask for help when your childhood makes you feel guilty for needing help and the help that you need feels rude to ask for

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[satoruhour]

geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt

OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD

a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers

wc: 2.9k

warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

geto was a sweet roommate.

he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.

even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.

it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.

the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,

“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”

shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”

gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.

“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”

suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.

today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.

“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.

there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.

“(y/n)? love? you okay?”

“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”

“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”

geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.

“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”

geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.

“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.

geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.

what would it be like to actually wear it?

the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.

peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.

“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.

you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.

you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?

the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”

setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.

“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.

your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.

oh, shit.

and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.

fuck, did i say that out loud?

you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.

“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.

“yea— yeah…”

geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.

suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”

your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.

“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”

your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.

“yeah?”

you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.

“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.

“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.

“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.

geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.

“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.

“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.

“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”

“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”

you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”

your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”

he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.

geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.

“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 

“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.

“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.

“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”

you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.

once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”

you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.

he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.

you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—

as his roommate and maybe now, something more.

part two ♡

[inkskinned]

i don't mean to sound ungrateful, but as a content creator on this site, there's a part of me that's like. they absolutely just stole my work.

i'm not, like, unaware that tumblr has been shuffling downhill for years now. sometimes i play with the idea of switching platforms, turning myself into the shark. i often get tens of thousands of notes - i could be "doing numbers" on a platform that actually pays me to do so. i could have statistics that i could use to sell myself, i could rebrand and make content pay-to-play and make brand deals. i could have the other life, i mean.

but i don't want to. i like the quiet nature of tumblr. i like that it still feels like i'm writing poetry, not like i'm fulfilling ad spots. i like the community, and that i can sometimes still take someone by surprise and write something that really speaks to them. i like the tags and reading things like oh of course it's fucking inkskinned i love you inkskinned you gay mess. my girlfriend recently told me that people tag things "inkskinned" because they assume it is similar to tagging "creative writing". that's wild. i made this word up when i was 19, and have always assumed people tag me in things so i read it (and i often do). i have nothing but love and gratitude for you all, for this tiny scoop of family.

and i haven't made any money off it. i had opportunities, and i turned them down. i could have sold this thing like a thousand times. i thought about moving my work elsewhere - over and over and over i thought about it. i weighed each option specifically. but my tumblr felt like ... it's for you guys, only. if you're still here and reading this, you deserve to do it for free.

tumblr has now, most likely, skimmed my work (and yours) in order to make money. i will never see a single cent for that violation. something about landlords, i guess - my work pays their rent.

i just lost my job on valentine's day, and am working on scrambling for solutions. i am writing this to a blog that they will probably scrape with AI. and like, what number to do you think it was? do you think it was only a couple hundred thousand? no way it was close to a million, right? my time, effort, energy - it belongs to someone else now. how many silver pieces for them to completely sell out their user base.

and it's kind of like - funny? when it isn't very-sad. because i personally don't know what to do, ya know? i might as well move to a different platform, where my efforts are ai-scraped but could eventually pay me. where i know my privacy is the cost - but it could result in actual money. anyway. i need to figure out how i'm paying for meds. i need to email like six people about COBRA benefits.

my work is powering someone else's AI. it will be a beautiful fabricated poem, made from words i've already said.

[selineram3421]

can I make a request for an Alastor x reader? Where y/n is Husk's sibling and Alastor won't stop flirting with y/n and Husk is just not having it? (And the rest of the HH crew are just in the background shipping Alastor and y/n)

*swipes up* Cat Demon Reader!!!! FUCK YEAH!

Hissy Kitty

Prologue

Alastor X Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ cussing, protective older brother Husk, Alastor loves annoying your brother, italics = thoughts ⚠

Husk was very protective of you and made sure you were taken care of. In Living and afterlife, he kept you out of his "business" to keep you safe.

Of course you surprise him by showing up at the hotel.

"What the fuck are you doing here!?"

"Surprise!", you cheered and gave your older brother a hug.

He didn't want you anywhere near his work. It was too risky. You would have been made a target. He didn't want HIM to know about you.

"Answer the question.", he grumbled but hugged you back.

"I haven't seen you in a while and I just wanted to-", you began, pulling back a bit from the hug, taking a look around the hotel lobby that was behind him.

"Look, I'll call you and tell you all about it but you need to go before-", he tried to get you to leave quickly.

"Husker!"

Shit.

He was pissed that he was too late.

"What are you doing trying to chase a guest out?", the demon in red walked over and pulled you into the hotel. "We are trying to invite them in."

"This one ain't looking to stay in the hotel!", your brother hissed and tried to pull you away from the red dressed demon.

You were suddenly spun and dipped by the man in red. It shocked you so much that you held onto the red demon tightly.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I am Alastor the facility manager.", Alastor grinned as he gazed down at you. "And who might you be?"

Such an adorable thing. He thought when seeing your ears pinned back and eyes having turned into slits, his grin widening when he noticed Husk getting angrier.

"Um..can you let me up now? This is a very weird way of greeting..", you squirmed, your tail flicking in annoyance.

After letting you go, Alastor took note of how bristled up the fur of his acquaintance was.

How interesting..

"Forgive me dear, I can get quite theatrical.", he laughed and fixed his bowtie. "And your name?"

"I'm-"

"Not staying.", Husk cut in. "They only came to see me, now back off."

"What the hell, can't I greet a demon?", you huffed.

Your brother pulls you away to speak in private.

"Not this one! This prick is someone I don't want you hanging around with.", he whispered growled, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Go home, put some wards or some shit for protection and don't come back here again!"

"Damn it Husk!", you slapped his hands away. "I came here to check up on you!"

Alastor stays where he is to enjoy the show. Glancing to the side when seeing Angel step into the lobby.

"Its been years! I haven't heard from you until two weeks ago about this place. Where have you been!? Do you know how worried I was!?"

"Psst! Smiles! Who the fuck is kitty whiskers?", the spider asks.

"Haven't the faintest idea but this argument is getting amusing.", he responds.

"I told you that I moved! That should be enough!", Husk gestured to the hotel.

"Yeah, its nice to know you're alive but you could have at least told me how you've been! Did you make any new friends? Did you drink until you blacked out again? Something else for fucks sake!", you yelled.

"I'm alive!", your brother yelled back. "I drank yesterday!", he pushed you towards the door. "I don't have friends!", he opened the door. "Now leave!"

"Tsk tsk!", Alastor tutted and used his shadows to pull you away from the door, moving you into his hold. "They are our guest, even if they are just visiting Husker~"

The Radio Demon's smile growing bigger when he saw the cat clench his fists.

"You are welcome to visit anytime to see this-", the red demon gestures to your brother. "-hissy kitty that you know."

"Ha!", you quickly covered your mouth to keep your laugh silent.

"A smile! Finally!", Alastor leaned closer to you. "I'd like to see it if you don't mind."

"Back off!", Husk pushed the red dressed demon away and took your hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."

"I can stay!?", you asked your brother.

"Only for a few hours!", he replied.

You stayed longer than a few hours.

Charlie had caught wind and was excited to meet you.

Husk drank from his bottle, watching as you talked to the Princess and Vaggie. The two were hooked on whatever story you were telling.

"So Husky~", Angel slid over.

"Don't you fucking call me that ever again.", the cat grumbled before continuing to drink.

"Who's the new cat strolling about?", the spider asked. "I've never seen you so pushy with someone before~ Are they an ex?"

"None of your business and ew. Fuck no.", Husk wiped his mouth after he finished the bottle. "Forget about them. They need to leave anyway.", he said before walking over to you.

.

"Hi Husk!", you waved as you entered the hotel.

"Fucking shit. What did you not understand about staying away!?"

You had a smug grin and pranced over to him.

"Can't really stay away from where I work~", you said and showed your employment papers.

"What.", your brother growled.

"While I was talking to the Princess during the tour, you stepped out for a bit and I told her I wanted to work here!", you beamed, cat tail swaying calmly. "So now I can't leave! Yay!"

"Are you fucking stupid!?", Husk yelled.

"Now Husker.", Alastor appeared from the shadows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "That is no way to talk to your fellow coworker."

The Radio Demon smiled cheekily when seeing the cat demon's fur bristle in anger.

"Let's show you all of the staff rooms!", he said suddenly and turned you towards the stairs. "There are quite a few closets littered about for cleaning supplies! For now that is what you'll do with Niffty until the Princess can think of where to put you."

"Is there any cleaning supplies?", you asked a little suspicious.

"Haven't a clue! But let's find out!"

You were near Alastor most of the day.

Husk actually followed you both until the "tour" ended.

"And that is all of the cleaning closets so far!", the red man grinned.

All of you were now standing in one of the many hallways. The fourth floor if you remember.

"Thank you for pointing them out.", you removed his hand from your shoulder. "Little less of that if you don't mind."

"Oh! I didn't even notice.", Alastor held his hands behind his back. "Do remind me if I slip again."

Husk quickly took you away from the red demon and walked you towards the lobby.

"Look, I'm glad you're here. Really. But its not safe for you to be around that smiling asshole.", your brother hissed.

"Husk, I'm not as clueless as you think I am.", you sigh and shook his arm off. "I'll keep myself safe.", you finish and walk away.

The cat demon stayed behind, groaning as he slides his hand down his face, feeling on edge, tired, and annoyed all at once.

"I've never seen you around a demon like them~", Alastor appears from the shadows. "And you're so protective!", he walks in front of the cat demon. "What a good older brother you are.", he leans back and spins his head to look at the demon.

"Don't you fucking try anything!", Husk threatens.

The Radio Demon laughs and stands up straight. "We'll have to go over our deal again!", he says while fixing his coat. "I hope you added their protection in."

"You piece of shit-!", Husk extends his claws and opens his wings up.

"I must be off! Who knows what trouble the guests have gotten into already!", Alastor walks away from the angry cat.

The Radio Demon hummed as he walked down the hallway, a slight skip in his step as his smile grew wider.

Oh how entertaining~

I love cats💕 Also this is turning into a short story because Husk is gonna be hella pissed.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | ChL for HK😾

[writingouthere]

singlemom!reader x neighbor!sukuna. you miss having a baby and Sukuna is dying from a combination of your sexual tension, his lowkey(highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of attending a child's birthday party

cw: Sukuna's breeding kink, red flags are present and accounted for, no one gets laid tho so sad face. this actually ended up being way more sincere and heartfelt than I intended but honestly very typical of me

"Oh we're not together, Sukuna's just been letting me and Bug crash while we look for an apartment."

"Oh he's not my boyfriend, we're just friends!"

"He's actually not Bug's dad. No, no. But, they get along really well. She enjoys having someone else to hang out with aside from me, I think."

Your laughter after the last one plays on repeat as he goes to grab the two of you some refreshments. Sukuna feels like he's living the world's worst version of groundhog day, except instead of being some sad loser who relives the same day over and over, he's apparently a sad loser who is going to live the same conversation over and over again.

"Fuck this shit."

"Um, excuse me but could you watch your language. This is a kid's birthday party." Sukuna wants to ask the bitch who is correcting a grown man's language if he would mind watching his own fucking business but you seem to care about what these losers think and he won't make life difficult for you.

If he happens to step on the guy's foot as he leaves with two cups and a juice box caught in his elbow, well, his steel toed boots need the exercise.

Sukuna knew that if any of his acquaintances, he didn't have friends after all, could see him now, they would die laughing. Die ,because he would kill them for laughing, but fuck he couldn't even really blame them, even in his hypothetical.

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a feared criminal. People pissed themselves when he cornered them in a dark alley. Other bad guys would look at him and say, "wow that guy's a real piece of shit" and now look at him. Stuck at some three year old's birthday party. One more kidzpop butchering of an already shitty song away from committing another felony.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew he was at least getting some pussy out of it, but he had just spent the past two hours hearing you deny him to anyone who asked and it was really starting to get to him.

He knew he was being a little bitch about it, and he wasn't upset just because you weren't fucking him. He was upset that all the things you were telling people, they were technically true. He was just letting you and your daughter crash. He was just your friend, not your boyfriend. Even the comments about him not being Bug's dad, but him being positioned as some kind of really invested babysitter, those might have stung more than the ones about your relationship but you thought that was true too.

Thinking about the kid made him look for her, not that Sukuna ever wasn't aware of where you and your daughter were. It had become instinct before he was even aware of it.

Bug was laughing with some kids he recognized from daycare and others from their regular trips to the park. Her happiness was contagious and Sukuna found his lips twitching up at the ends despite his shitty mood.

Your daughter's eyes found him from across the playground. "kuna!" she called, waving her little hand at him. He waved back with his available hand and made his way towards her. She met him halfway, her little legs unsteady on the wood chips but she didn't seem to notice. She was always like that when she saw him, she ran fearlessly. Maybe she just trusted he'd catch her.

Was it so wrong of him that he didn't like the reminders she wasn't his. That it stung, not just because of his feelings but because it just couldn't be true. He might not have fathered her, but fuck anyone who said this little girl wasn't his.

"I got you a juice, you've been running around so much you gotta be thirsty."

"Not thirsty," Bug argued leaning into him. He held up his hands that were holding the grown up drinks for the two of you, and moved the package still lodged in the crease of his elbow towards the petulant toddler. "Take it, or I'll drink it."

Bug stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed it. She struggled to get the wrapping off the straw and Sukuna didn't even notice what he was doing until she had the straw stretched out towards him and he was pulling the wrapper off with his teeth. He spit it out on the ground as your daughter gave him a polite thank-you and then walked away, sipping her juice as she went to catch up with her friends.

What had become of him?

"Need a hand?" You smile at him and Sukuna hands over your cup before taking a sip of his own. There was unfortunately no alcohol in it but drinking it occupied his mouth before he acted like a pussy and asked you, "what are we?" or "should we get married?" or something equally as pathetic.

"God, I want a baby."

Sukuna almost spit out his drink but he manages to tone it down to just a little cough before turning to look at you. You don't even seem a little embarrassed which is just infuriating. Sukuna's about to make a suggestion on how he can help with that when you sigh and point to where some loser is holding their ugly baby.

"Aren't babies just the cutest, I miss when Bug was that age."

Oh, so this was just you looking at other people's red-faced brats and feeling nostalgic and was not in fact a call to action. Sukuna rolled his eyes and leaned back on the hand closest to you so he didn't touch you as he was so tempted to do these days.

"That baby, like all babies, is hideous. All they do is cry, shit themselves and vomit and I'm not even sure Bug is the exception to that and she's the best kid there is."

You look touched at his affection for your daughter but also fired up on behalf of babies everywhere.

"You can't just say a baby is hideous, Sukuna. Those are the Zenin's. Bug is friends with some of them."

"Well are the older ones cuter, because that baby looks like someone fucked one of those hairless cats."

"Sukuna!" you hiss but he sees you smile, despite yourself. "Okay, maybe that baby isn't like the cutest baby-"

"Hideous."

You continue after smacking his arm. "But Bug was cute, okay. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mom." You take out your phone and quickly swipe until you get to what you're looking for. "See, cute baby."

Sukuna grabs your phone and looks. It's not the first picture he's seen of a young Bug and he's taken his share of photos of her himself, but he finds himself taken in by it anyway.

It has to be a picture from when Bug was really young, she still had the scrunched up, red face that he associates with newborns. But he thinks you're right, she's still cute. He doesn't know if it's because he knows that baby will grow up to be your daughter, but he finds his thumb caressing her little baby cheeks, the wisps of hair he can see peaking out from where she's wrapped in a baby blanket. It's then he sees she's not alone in the picture and there's a different version of you holding her.

The thing that stands out to him is how tired you look. He thinks this couldn't have been too long after you gave birth but still, he wondered if you'd gotten any rest those first few months. You still didn't like talking about your ex, or the circumstances that had led you to his apartment, but Sukuna knew that chances are you were taking care of Bug single handedly and that couldn't have been easy, cutest kid or not.

"She was beautiful, she still is." He reluctantly hands the phone back to you and you look at the picture again, tears building up in your eyes.

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I-I wish that the circumstances were different in how I got her. Sometimes, I wonder how I'll explain everything to her when she's older. She just deserves so much better than him, you know?"

"You both do." Sukuna reaches over and brushes away one of the tears that had managed to fall down your cheek. He leaves his hand there a moment, holding your cheek in his palm, just appreciating the warmth.

"Do you want any?"

"What?" Sukuna isn't sure what you're talking about anymore. He can only see your lips right in front of him, the way that your eyelashes brush against your cheek as you blink faster and faster.

"Babies, do you want any?"

Something short circuits in Sukuna's brain and he wants to say, fuck yes.

He wants to tell you that he thinks about it every day. Every time you put Bug on your hip or send him youtube videos of hairstyles you want to try on her. Whenever it's late at night, and little feet pad out of your room and Bug asks him in the loudest whisper he's ever heard, if he can get her some water because she's so thirsty.

He thinks about it when the sun streams through the curtains of his apartment in the morning and it lights up your hair as you move throughout the kitchen, a force of nature, a creature from somewhere far too good to have ended up here with him.

He thinks about it when the three of you go out and people just assume you're a family, because of course you're a family. When you and Bug play some made up game, or Bug gets tired even though she denies it and he carries her sleeping form against his chest. When he holds her in his lap on the subway and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder and he feels like this, this is what he's always wanted.

He's not all pure and good though, because he thinks about it late at night in his bedroom too. After a day of your smiles, of seeing your thighs stretch out of those sleep shorts you started wearing when the weather warmed up, whenever he remembers the feel and smell of your panties when he's lucky enough to find a pair in the laundry basket, he thinks about how the two of you would make some really cute fucking babies.

He's imagined it a million ways. He's imagined you telling him you've gone off your birth control and you need him now after he takes you out on an anniversary dinner. Or him crowding you up against the kitchen counter and you begging him to put a baby in you.

His favorite fantasy is currently one where you get so carried away when you finally finally fuck that you don't ask him to wear a condom and he spends the whole night making sure you're nice and good and full of him and when you tell him a few weeks later you missed your period, he'll let you freak out. But then he'll tell you that he'll take good care of you, and Bug, and your soon to be little one and he'll finally have you, all of you and once you have your second, he'll knock you up again, as many times as he can because there could never be too many mini-you's running around.

At this point, Sukuna remembers he's talking to you, the real you and he swallows a few times before he speaks.

"I do," he says simply but something must show on his face because you're looking at him in a way you never have before. He hears your breath hitch and he leans in to kiss you, and you smell so good and his thoughts are consumed by the little family he just knows you're going to have when suddenly he's pelted by a variety of sharp, little objects.

Sukuna immediately holds up his arm to shield you from what he now sees is a barrage of wood chips which are being thrown at you by an army of toddlers, including your daughter.

You immediately get up and start talking to the kids about the danger of throwing what are basically large future splinters at people's faces and Sukuna is contemplating the murder of every child that isn't his own when you turn to look at him.

You're not just looking at him, you're seeing him and oh. Maybe he would be getting laid tonight, after all.

The slow burn is almost done folks.

thank you to the amazing reception to this series and the one-shot I posted(which there will be a prequel of soon!). it's literally so insane. Masterlist will be up tomorrow which I hope helps with accessibility!

edit: masterlist is up!

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU

Masterpost

Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!

~~~~

Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 

“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.

The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 

Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”

And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.

“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.

“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”

And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 

“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…

“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.

“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 

“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”

“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 

“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?

“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 

“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 

“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”

“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”

“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”

Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 

“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.

“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.

“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”

“Amity Park.”