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spectersgf · 3 months ago

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— driver's seat storm chasing 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

pairing: tyler owens × reader

summary: he was about to take off again, chase another storm, leave you worrying for hours upon hours. the least he could do was give you a parting gift.

warnings: SMUT! kinda angsty a little, cute yeehaw banter, cowgirlisms, hair pull, ass smack, titty suck. all the good stuff.

wordcount: 3.2k

a/n: watched twisters literally two days ago, had this thought, here we are. not proofread at all (as always, soz) but filled with passion (and horny)

(if you want to be tagged in future fics or if you have any requests, let me know! for my other fics, here's my masterlist!)

"oh, you're such a prick, tyler owens!"

you were shouting at your best friend, which was a regular occurrence due to his dangerous passion. tyler was a professional 'tornado wrangler' which was his idiotic way of saying he chased tornadoes for the sake of content creation. you knew it went much deeper than that for him; this was his passion and he was smart and knew so much about storms, but that doesn't mean he wasn't stupid and reckless.

he had just come back from a particularly dangerous storm, one that left you more worried for his safety than ever before. you cried seeing him come back to town and fretted over his injuries and bruises, begging him to stop and not go again.

according to what he just told you, your begging was pointless.

he was about to take off again, chase another storm, put himself back in harm's way. leave you worrying for hours upon hours, shaking until he'd return.

"do i mean nothing to you? does my begging and pleading mean nothing?" your voice was strained but you didn't lower your volume, desperate for him to see your anguish.

"you know that's not the case, darlin', but storm chasing is my life. you know that better than anyone." his tone was much steadier than yours, and his comments were entirely reasonable. you knew how much of his time he dedicated to his passion, but that didn't stop your frustration.

"don't play that fucking card with me, ty. it's not even been 48 hours since i thought you'd died, and now you're up and leaving again!" your anger had subsided and your tone had softened, now showing vulnerability and hurt. your shoulders sagged and you turned away from him, tears that you didn't want him to see stinging your eyes.

"y/n..." his voice trailed off, unsure if he was supposed to move to comfort you or give you space.

“you don’t understand what it does to me to see you walk out that door, ty. every single time i’m stuck asking myself if today’s the day i lose my best friend. and i know you’re careful and you know your stuff and you’re basically a pro but sometimes i can’t even bring myself to watch the streams and the videos because i’m so scared.” you rambled your confession, back still turned away from him but you’d started pacing. when you finished speaking, you turned to face him, eyes pleading. “i’m not asking you to stop. i’d never ask you to quit your passion. i just wish you’d understand from my perspective.”

"i'm sorry," he started, but you knew where his apology was headed. "but i have to do this. this is my life, and i'm helping people by doing this."

your tear-filled gaze met his as he spoke, and the look of sincerity on his face made you cave, as usual. "fine, go. it's not like i could've stopped you."

you watched him pick up his hat and place it easily on his head as he turned to walk away. he opened the door but turned before heading out. "you know i love you, y/n," he said quietly, sounding almost defeated.

his words struck you but before you could say anything, he was out the door. for a couple of minutes you stood in place, stunned at his proclamation. when you finally snapped out of your shock, you walked out the door, following behind him as he walked to his truck.

it had started to rain and the water caused his shirt to stick to him like a second skin, but you didn't allow yourself any time to ogle his physique. you reached out and grabbed his arm, feeling his cold skin against your warm touch. you pulled his arm, forcing him to turn and face you as you seethed.

"love me how?" you asked, obviously distressed. the rain was making your hair to stick to your face but you didn't care; all you cared about was the man in front of you. your best friend. "love me how, tyler?"

"y/n..." for the second time today his voice trailed off after saying your name like that and it infuriated you. your face burned from embarrassment and before you had fully processed your reaction, you slapped him.

when he turned his head back to look at you again, his eyes were swimming with hurt. you loved his eyes. you hated seeing them like this. but all you could focus on was your own hurt. after years of being his best friend but craving more, and years of casual touches and flirting and cuddling and rumours in your small town, this is what it had come to. a halfway confession.

"fuck you," you spit before turning away to walk back inside.

this time, it was tyler who reached out to grab you. his big hand encased your bicep and forced you to face him again. before you could say anything, he spun you around so that you were pinned against the door of his truck.

"what the fuck is your probl–" your words were abruptly cut off when he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. you stood still in shock for a few seconds before melting into him, one hand on the junction between his neck and shoulder, the other hand on his bicep. meanwhile, he had one hand on your waist and the other held your face, fingers splaying across your cheek and neck. you kissed him back with passion and vigour, easily letting his tongue explore your mouth for the first time.

your hands snakes upwards, pulling his hat off his head and slipping it onto yours while your free hand fisted his hair, threading your fingers through his locks. his hand trailed from your waist to your ass as he pulled away from your kiss for a second.

"you sure you wanna wear my hat, darlin'?" he panted, raising one cocky eyebrow as his eyes searched yours.

"wear the hat, ride the cowboy, right?" you asked, smirking confidently. he immediately matched your facial expression, smirking in return, but his eyes twinkled with joy and amusement.

tyler was much taller than you and evidently he was starting to see your height difference as an issue, since he brought his other hand down to your ass and lifted you, urging your legs around his waist and bringing you face to face. he kissed you again, just a quick kiss, before asking, "so, cowgirl. where are we doing this?"

"if i'm the cowgirl, are you my wild stallion?" you teased playfully, smiling as you looked at him affectionately. after seeing the fiery look in his eyes, you were unable to resist, and you pulled his mouth to yours once again, this kiss more intense than the last. you messily pulled his bottom lip into your mouth and sucked on it, followed by a gentle bite, before pulling away and desperately kissing down his neck. "i want you in your truck. driver's seat," you murmured against his skin.

before tyler was able to haul you into his truck, you detached yourself from him. once your feet were safely back on the ground, you eagerly grabbed the hem of his soaked t-shirt and peeled it off his tanned torso, shamelessly admiring his body as you did. you dragged your nails across his toned abdomen and brought your mouth to his chest, sucking and biting at his skin. you could barely register his groan, only able to focus on his body and being able to maintain skin-to-skin contact with him.

tyler pulled you away from him by gently tugging on your hair and you looked at him quizzically. "ty, what the hell?"

"enough teasing, cowgirl. time to ride the stallion," he told you, causing you both to erupt in a fit of giggles.

"never say that again, tyler," you replied, leaning up to peck him quickly.

he picked you up briefly and immediately put you down in a spot away from the driver's side door and swiftly got comfortable in his van, away from the cold rain. while he did so, you made quick work of unbuttoning your flannel shirt, leaving you in just a lacy, sheer bra and jeans. and his hat. once he was seated, tyler gave you a thorough once-over, letting out a low whistle as he did.

"somebody call for a ride?" his playful tone was supplemented by his signature cheeky smile, but you rolled your eyes at his comment.

"god, you're so fuckin' corny."

you boosted yourself into the truck, situating yourself easily on his lap. you shuffled around to get comfortable on tyler's lap and were rewarded with a strained groan. this time it was you giving him a cheeky smile followed by a quick roll of your hips over his. he placed his hands firmly on your waist, fingers dipping into your jeans and stopping your movements.

"keep that up and this'll be over before it started, sweetheart," he told you, voice strained and you could tell it was from arousal. you watched his mouth as he spoke and, unable to resist him, you leaned in and kissed him again. your almost bare chest was pressed against his and your hands roamed his skin, picking up water droplets as they went. the feel of his toned muscle under your hands caused you to moan into his mouth, turning tyler on even more.

his hands wound into your hair, all the way up to the root, and he tugged lightly. you whimpered and dragged your hips over his, and when tyler pulled away from your kiss you unconsciously followed his movement. tyler clicked his tongue in condescending disapproval but smirked at your reaction to him.

“needy for me, baby?” he asked mockingly, one hand on your hips to halt your movement again, the other still tangled in your hair.. you nodded your response, not trusting yourself to speak in your current state. “words, sweetheart. what do you need?”

you whined but when you realised he wasn’t going to do anything until you spelled it out for him, you let out an exasperated huff. “need you to fuck me.”

tyler laughed affectionately at your desperation. “there you go, sweetheart. that’s what i like to hear.” you preened from his praise, craving to receive it again. with the hand that was on your hips, he undid the button of your jeans and pulled the zipper down with a quiet hiss. instead of pulling down the restrictive fabric like you expected, he slipped his hand into your barely-existent underwear and stroked with a featherlike touch.

“this all for me?” he asked as he dragged a finger through your arousal; you were soaked and his teasing tone was only making it worse. you dropped your head onto his shoulder and tried to slyly jerk your hips forward, though you were unable to. “patience, baby. i’ve chased this storm so long, now let me enjoy it.”

his words jolted you caused a moan to fall from your mouth. your skin was feverish despite the biting cold and you were becoming increasingly desperate. “next time, please, tyler. i need you inside me, please,” you begged, mouth against his tan skin.

he didn’t say anything in response, only chuckled quietly to himself as he removed his hand from your underwear. he brought his hand up to your mouth and you looked him in the eye as you took one finger, the one that had been touching you, into your mouth and sucked. you bobbed your head back and forth for just a few seconds and hummed quietly around the digit in your mouth before releasing it and pulling tyler’s mouth to yours in a heated kiss, urging him to taste you from your own mouth.

“god, if we weren’t in my truck right now i’d have my mouth on your sweet cunt,” he grumbled.

“don’t care, need your cock inside me.” without breaking your kiss, you pushed your jeans down over your hips but only to your knees. “i’m ready, you know i’m ready, what are we waiting for?” you asked frantically. you started to paw at his stupid belt but his hands covered yours, stopping you from getting to what you were craving.

“are you sure? we can’t go back after this and you know it.” his eyes were swimming with concern as he spoke, searching yours for any indication of your feelings.

you moved one hand to his face, placing it on his cheek and stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. “i want this. i have for a longass time. i’ve felt it for so long, and now i’m finally chasing it. are you chasing it with me?” your words were entirely sincere and this was obvious to tyler, especially when you looked in his eyes and deep into his soul.

“using my own words against me?” he teased, breaking the tension in a charming way that only he could pull off. “i’m with you.” his words were equally sincere, though you could sense the double meaning. you weren’t distressed by it; his way of telling you how he was feeling made your heart swell and added to your already dripping arousal.

you resumed your work on removing his belt, followed by unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper. tyler could only watch cockily as you did so, both hands behind his head, muscles flexing, as he admired your naked beauty. jeans pulled down, only a sheer bra covering your breasts, and his hat on your head.

“go on, baby. take me out; it’s all yours.”

his words empowered you and you happily obliged, appreciating his quiet hiss as you made contact with his skin once again. you tunnel visioned on his thick cock in your hand, swiping your thumb over the tip and pumping it once, twice, three times. tyler watched your every moment and facial expression, and he could see you practically salivating, bringing a wide and cocky smirk to his face. “another time,” he murmured despite his better opinion of letting you take him in your mouth the way you so obviously craved. you simply nodded in agreement, seemingly in a trance as you eyed the way your smaller hand wrapped around his girth.

the feeling of his hands on your hips gently urging you forwards and upwards snapped you out of your dreamlike state but you didn’t resist his manhandling; instead, you welcomed the way he took control of the situation. took control of you.

before proceeding further he looked you in the eyes again, showing that same sincerity and vulnerability, silently asking ‘are you sure you’re sure?’. you smiled at the gesture, appreciative of his concern, and nodded. your eyes sparkled with excitement as you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and reached behind you to guide tyler’s hard cock into your wetness. the pair of you moaned in tandem as you sunk down on him, fitting together perfectly.

“c’mere, cowgirl,” he murmured, voice heavy with arousal. you shifted forward with him inside you, pulling a groan from deep within his chest as he pulled you in for another kiss. the combination of his searing kiss and the way he filled you up was electrifying. your entire body moved on its own accord, as if you had come alive for the first time; your mouth worked against his and you circled your hips against his and you were consumed entirely by him.

one of his hands pawed at your ass while the other worked on removing your bra. when he did finally get your bra unhooked, it was practically ripped off your body and thrown to the backseat. tyler’s lips reluctantly left yours but they immediately attached to your right breast, with his hand squeezing the left. he sucked a harsh mark into the flesh before his mouth circled your peaked nipple, sucking eagerly before rolling it gently between his teeth.

“you have no idea how desperate i’ve been to get my mouth on your pretty tits, sweetheart,” he mumbled against you. his words caused your hips to stutter against his as you rode him, hitting your sweet spot and forcing a high pitched moan from you.

“i need you to do it, ty,” you whimpered, hungry for him to take control again.

“such a good girl, telling me what you need.” his praise made you glow and you unconsciously clenched your muscles around him.

his grip on your ass tightened slightly before he slapped it, deliciously stinging your skin. you moaned and jerked forward again and your head immediately fell backwards, eyes rolling back.

“god, y/n, you’re a walking turn on,” he moaned, hips starting to buck as he fucked into you. “you have no fuckin’ idea what you do to me. the number of times i’ve wanted to do this with you right here, audience be damned. the way i crave the taste of your sweet cunt on my tongue. having to stop myself from smacking your ass or squeezing your tits whenever you’re in those tiny bikinis or scraps of fabric that you call pyjamas. and now you’re mine and we can do all of it.”

you moaned and whimpered pathetically throughout tyler’s speech, the words that you were longing to hear from him finally being voiced while he fucked you.

“i’m close,” you mumbled, bringing your hand to your mouth to muffle your noises. “need you to fill me up.”

his eyes squeezed shut due to your muffled words and he pulled your hand away from your mouth. “i’ll give you whatever you need, baby, but i need to hear you when i do,” he told you, linking your fingers together and resting your joined hands on his glistening chest. “cum for me, sweet girl. cum on my cock, let me feel you.”

his words tipped you over the edge and your muscles spasmed around him as you reached your climax, moaning his name as you did. tyler followed suit, filling you upon your request.

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, pulling your chest to his and kissing you again, sweetly this time despite your expectations.

the pair of you were a panting, sweaty mess when you both finished, but you didn’t break any of your attachments. he didn’t pull out of you, and he didn’t let you loosen your embrace.

“i guess you could say i wrangled your tornado, hm?”

“you did not say that to me while i have your dick and cum inside me right now, tyler owens.”

“c’mon, darlin’, you obviously like my lines,” he teased, smiling sweet and sincere.

“more than just your lines. i like you,” you confessed, voice quiet and shy out of fear of rejection.

“yeah? you got a li’l crush on me?” his playful and teasing tone made you smile. dissipating any worries you had. this was the boy you were falling for.

“just a little one. really, i’m just here for your truck.” the banter between the two of you was light and easy, something that you both always appreciated about each other. you clicked.

“yeah, cowgirl, i know how you feel about my truck.”

you giggled at his response and kissed the bare, warm skin on his shoulder.

“you’re the most beautiful storm i’ve chased, y/n.” he looked into your eyes as he spoke, voice quiet as if speaking too loud would disrupt the moment.

“that’s funny. because you’re the sun coming up after the storm.”

WHEW! first tyler fic done bbz<333 more to come, requests are open HERE! if you want to be tagged in future fics lmk, please tell me what you think, even if you think i should never write again ok thank u bye ily bye

taglist: @ronsbadidea

#save a horse ride a tornado #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x you #tyler owens smut #tyler owens fanfiction #twisters #twisters fanfic #twisters 2024 #tyler owens x y/n #glen powell

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stonedstr8 · 2 months ago

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TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

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bodyswapmischief · 11 days ago

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Fractured Wishes: Bonded Minds

Every day that passes, I feel myself slipping away. I am more than myself now—I have to be. I need to be them and me, to somehow make us whole. But where do I end, and where do they begin? It was all so clear at the start of this, but now the line blurs a little more every day. Was I ever really me? Or am I one of them, trying to lead myself toward a better life? I regret not realizing what I had... because now, it’s all I have. I messed up. I owe them everything. I owe them this life.

My name was—and sometimes still is—Henry. And, honestly, I hated my friends. We were those friends from childhood, the kind you feel obligated to keep around. By high school, we mostly hung out outside of school. Maybe it was because we all lived on the same block our whole lives. But high school tested the limits of our friendship.

We were close, especially in elementary and middle school. But by high school, we’d all changed. Puberty blessed Michael; he grew tall and strong. It was no surprise he became a jock, balancing parties, sports, and schoolwork with ease. He wasn’t a typical meathead either. He’d always try to get Nathan and me to come to those parties with him.

I understood Nathan. But me... Nathan didn’t have Michael’s build, but he was ridiculously attractive. His family life was tough, so he had that bad-boy edge—the leather jacket, the mystery, the kind of “I could fix him” vibe every girl seemed drawn to. While Michael hung out with the golden kids, Nathan fell in with the party crowd. He drank and hooked up before any of us. He had this charisma.

So yeah, I get why Nathan and Michael were friends. But me? I was the weak, scrawny nerd. I tried a few parties but always ended up getting bullied. Then Nathan would get mad at Michael, and Michael would say he’d take care of it. The next day, I’d see some jock with a black eye. But really, it was obvious I didn’t belong with them. No matter how much they tried, it just never ended well for me.

And it wasn’t just the parties. They tried to associate with me at school, too. Why couldn’t they see it was only going to cause problems? Being nice to me just put a spotlight on me. Couldn’t they see it would’ve been better if we kept clear boundaries? At school, we were all different people. But back home, on our street, we could be friends—just like the old days, playing video games together. Though, with schoolwork and activities, even those hangouts became less and less frequent.

People always say college is different, that once you leave high school, everything changes, that it gets better. But when the time came to apply to college, to finally be free, they still had their claws in me. Sitting at the lunch table, they suggested we all choose the same school. I felt my heart sink. Why would they do this to me? Why couldn’t they see I didn’t belong with them? I couldn’t say no, but I threw out my safety school. I was counting on getting accepted somewhere else, somewhere I knew they wouldn’t apply. But fate is cruel—the only acceptance letter I got was from my safety school. And just like that, I was trapped with them, even in college.

That’s when I knew. They didn’t like me. Their kindness was just a cover for their true cruelty. They hated me—they knew they were better than me and enjoyed keeping me around as the weak friend, someone to make them look good. But I was too weak to confront them, so I played my role. They’d invite me out, and it made me sick. How could two people be so cruel, to keep someone around just to make them feel inferior? I couldn’t face their malice head-on. But I could say no. And that’s exactly what I did—I started turning down their invitations. I spent more time in my dorm. Making new friends felt pointless; it would just end up the same way.

And then it happened. Mr. Cool Guy and Mr. Popular were supposed to leave me alone. It was the big party weekend to celebrate the end of mid-term. I’d already said no; I wasn’t going with them. I was ready to relax, spend the night by myself, and enjoy some movies and TV. But then there was a knock on my door. Nathan and Michael were standing there with pizza, movies, and games. I was furious. How could they do this? They told me they’d been worried about me, that I’d been distant. Parties could wait, they said. They realized they’d been trying to make me join in on their kind of fun and thought maybe they should try mine instead. Those idiots, I thought. Couldn’t they see—I didn’t even like them! But I let them in, and we started hanging out.

Their attempts at having a good time ... I snapped. I saw the truth and exploded on them. I confronted them, and they acted confused, mad, and sad that I felt the way I did. They tried to explain, insisting they truly saw me as a friend. Nathan wished I could understand that they had always considered me one. Michael said he’d always hoped we’d stay in each other’s lives. I couldn’t take their lies anymore. In that moment, I wished they’d both just drop dead.

A wave of energy ripped through the air, and the power went out. I heard two bodies hit the floor. With a flicker, the lights came back on—and there lay Nathan and Michael.

I rushed to Michael and placed my hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my palm. I quickly moved to Nathan, doing the same, and I could sense his heartbeat as well. I had no idea what had happened to them, but I cursed the fact that it had to occur in my dorm. They were alive, at least, but I needed them awake and out of my life. Grabbing Michael’s hand, the world around me spun. When it finally stopped, I felt heavy yet powerful, as if the world had shrunk around me. Looking down, I saw my unconscious body on the floor, and in shock, I jumped back.

I kneeled down and felt my heart. It was still beating. And, then I grabbed my hand. The words spun, and I was back in my body. I did the same with Nathan. Touching his exposed flesh, I was wisked into his body. I ran to the mirror and checked myself out. I couldn't believe it. I could have some fun while they were passed out. I could finally see what it would be like to be them. I could see why they felt the need to keep me around and torment me.

I slipped back into Michael's form and grabbed a blanket. Carefully wrapping the other two bodies, I placed one on the bed and the other on the couch, amazed at how easily I could carry them. My muscles flexed with each effortless movement, and I marveled at the strength I now possessed. As I took in this new body, I couldn’t ignore the raw sensations it brought with it. Curious to explore every part of it, I undressed and allowed myself a moment of self-discovery. I rubbed my hands down my current muscular frame. I felt the strength of this body with every involuntary flex caused my desperate desire. Each touch and movement felt both familiar and entirely new, heightening my awareness of this powerful, muscular form in a way that was deeply exhilarating. And, finally I wrapped my hands around my new raging cock.

As I finished palying with Michael's body, I couldn’t help but smile. I'd always been a bit jealous of him, and now, here I was, being him. I walked back into the room and looked at the other two bodies, wondering how long they'd remain unconscious. If they woke up, would we all be stuck in our new bodies? Based on who I was when I touched each of them, Nathan would likely be in my body, and Michael would now be Nathan. I could already imagine how mad Nathan would be with this arrangement.

I didn’t care because they both deserved to experience what it was like to be me after the way they'd treated me. The night was young, and there was a party to go to, a party where, for once, I’d finally fit in, not be the odd one out. I wouldn’t be the outsider that Michael and Nathan invited just for everyone to laugh at.

As those thoughts filled my mind, a memory surfaced: "Damn, man, that sounds good. I’ll bring some pizza and a few of my games. I’m worried about the guy, too. I think he misses home... maybe we can make it feel a bit more like home with one of our classic game nights. You’re right. There’ll always be other parties, but we’ve gotta help our bro out." This was Michael’s memory. Why did he say this to Nathan when I wasn’t around? Why did he sound like he actually cared?

Another memory played, "Hey Chad! What the hell? Why were you picking on Henry? Yeah, I’d rather sit with the “nerd” than with you guys at lunch… because he’s my friend. And who cares about high school reputation? I’ve got enough to go around because I’m a decent person. But if you mess with him again, you’ll see how “bad” I can get."

The first time Michael stood up for me... followed by a montage of others he’d defended me against, without me ever knowing. My heart sank. All this time… could it be? Maybe Michael really felt that way, but Nathan? I needed to know. I rushed back to my own body, touching my hand. Michael’s body slumped onto the bed as I shot up in my own form and hurried over to Nathan. I sat on the couch and touched his hand. Now, I was Nathan, and I had to know the truth.

I wasn't sure how easy it would be to summon these memories. With Michael, it just happened. But, I used every ounce of concentration i could muster, and the memories came. "Hey, I don't think we should go to the party tonight. Henry hasn't been doing well. You know how he is. He isn't gonna ask for help. We just gotta be there for him. Like we always have been." This memory was followed by a montage of all the times he would invite me to hang with him. A feeling that even if my ... his family life was falling apart he could hold on to his friends. The inspiration he got from me to still try in school. How he owed his passion to getting into college to me.

I felt a wave of nausea. All the terrible things I'd assumed about them were wrong. I returned to touch my original body, and Nathan's fell unconscious. Standing in the room, I looked down at my two friends, both still warm and breathing. I called out to them, but there was no response, no hint of waking. I threw a pillow and shook the bed and the couch, but nothing. I knew if I touched them, I’d risk swapping bodies again. Seconds stretched into minutes, then hours. They never woke up. Morning came, but they remained motionless.

I paced around the room. They were alive, but if they didn’t wake up, they’d eventually die. They needed to eat and drink, at the very least. And they each had lives, school, family, and other responsibilities. With a wave of guilt, I grabbed Michael’s hand and swapped into his body. Focusing, I saw his usual morning routine, his plans for the day. I prepared breakfast and ate for him. Then, I went to Nathan, swapping into his body to do the same. Thankfully, his breakfast was simple; he wasn’t as much of a health nut as Michael. I ate and thought through his tasks. There had to be a way to wake them. Until I could find it, or they managed to fight back into consciousness, I’d have to live for all three of us.

I started to plan how I’d manage everything the three of us needed to do. And it worked, I bounced between our bodies, keeping up with all the homework and classwork, making sure we ate and stayed clean. Being in their bodies was strange; I’d always found them both attractive. But guilt weighed on me, knowing I’d put them in this situation. It kept me from fully enjoying the experience. Still, I was in the bodies of three young men, full of energy and hormones, so, naturally, I had to take care of that too.

But I could only handle the basics for so long. Each of them had social lives to keep up with. Michael had practices; I managed to call him out sick for a week, but he needed that scholarship money. And then there was Nathan, with his friends constantly hitting him up, suspicious that I kept turning down plans. The only thing working in my favor was that I, my real self, didn’t have much of a life. Even so, I could see how my own few overlapping events would soon complicate everything.

I couldn’t do this alone. But I was. I needed to be more than just one of us at a time. The next morning, I woke up in my own body, grabbed both of Michael’s hands, and didn’t let go. I felt my soul bouncing between both bodies, the world spinning around me, but I held on until I couldn’t handle it any longer. I collapsed to the floor.

When I opened my eyes, I saw two views at once. The disorientation was overwhelming, an intense vertigo like I’d never felt. I began to gag as I sat up, seeing Michael’s body do the same through my eyes—and my own body doing it through Michael’s. I was in both bodies simultaneously, and each movement mirrored in both. Stumbling to the bathroom, I managed to get both bodies leaning over the bathtub as the nausea hit hard.

It took hours to leave the restroom, as every slight head turn made both bodies feel nauseous. Eventually, in both bodies, I stumbled as I guided us onto the bed. The world was still spinning, and all I could do was try to sleep, hoping it would get better.

More time passed, and I woke up again. Both bodies looked up, still feeling the vertigo—though it was now slightly more manageable. I sat up, glancing at both my bodies, each face reflecting a mix of confusion and astonishment. I reached out to touch Michael's face with one hand, and from Michael’s perspective, he was doing the same to my face. It was surreal, feeling the sensation of both our hands touching both our faces.

I began to move both bodies' hands, exploring further, curiosity getting the better of me, I grabbed both cocks. I felt this strange urge as both bodies reacted, becoming aroused. Suddenly, guilt washed over me, and I released my grip, quickly getting out of bed. This situation wasn’t as useful as I had hoped. Moving two bodies in perfect mirror of each other felt more like a hindrance than a help.

I thought it might be better if we were at least facing the same direction instead of each other. Standing face to face, I focused on Michael's body, trying to will it to turn around while keeping my own body facing forward. With some concentration, it worked. Now, instead of mirroring each other, both bodies were moving in unison.

I moved both bodies to the kitchen, but thinking about maneuvering two bodies was a bit complicated. I bumped into things and felt the pain of both bodies, though it was becoming easier. Another issue arose while I was cooking breakfast; one body was doing all the work while the other simply mimicked, holding imaginary objects. It felt like a waste of energy.

I began to wonder if there was a way to be in just one body again. I tried to touch Michael's body as his hand reached out to the other side of him, but it didn’t work. Then I concentrated on being in my own body, and I could feel a pericng sensation in my brain. I was seeing through one set of eyes and looked at Michael's body. He was still conscious, moving around and cooking. My heart jumped, I had done it; I had brought him back. But when I called out to him and tried to talk, he didn’t respond. I saw a blank look on his face as he moved on autopilot, focused on the last task I had been doing in his body.

I concentrated again, focusing on being Michael, and I felt my soul jump. I stopped mid-action while cracking eggs and looked at my original body just staring back at me. I began to think of a complicated list of tasks and then jumped out of Michael's body and into my own. From my own body, I watched Michael work. He cooked breakfast, cleaned up the mess, and served it. He started eating, and when he was done, he sat still. He had completed everything I had planned in his mind before I jumped out.

Finally, I thought to myself, this could work. I swapped back into Michael's body with just pure thought and began testing the distance. I moved farther away and left the dorm, and it seemed I could swap from any distance. Not only that, but the swaps were becoming easier, almost second nature. I started leaving a thought of acting naturally, and I could swap back while both bodies were in mid action, as if they were operating on their own without me.

I returned to the dorm in Michael's body and saw my original body moving around, getting ready for one of my late classes. I jumped as it began talking to me like myself. It seemed the thoughts I was leaving behind after each jump were becoming more polished, allowing both bodies to act completely normal whether I was in one of them or not.

As my body left the dorm on its own, I concentrated again, focusing on being in both bodies. My vision split once more, allowing me to see the dorm through Michael's eyes as my original body walked to class. I could seamlessly jump between the two, maintaining concentration on both, with each body providing me with information about both surroundings.

I concentrated again and closed the channel, finding myself back in Michael's body. But I continued to test my abilities. Opening the channel again, I saw through both perspectives. Then, I jumped into my own body. I would spend the day practicing this skill set. I swapped between both bodies: my original body attended class while Michael enjoyed some downtime playing video games. I practiced seeing through both sets of eyes simultaneously, and it was becoming easier.

As my original body walked back to the dorm from class, I felt incredible. I was two people at once. But then panic set in as I remembered Nathan. Both bodies turned to each other and said his name. Michael got up from the couch, and my original body dropped his backpack. We both rushed to Nathan, who was passed out on the bed. I had ignored him all day.

I made both bodies grab his hand, forming a chain between us. I could feel my soul jumping again. Nathan hadn’t been connected to us yet, so I held on until I couldn’t. Finally, he shot awake. I saw through his eyes as well as my own and Michael's. The vertigo didn’t bother me; I had become accustomed to seeing from multiple perspectives. Adjusting Nathan was easier thanks to all the practice I had.

Now, all three bodies moved independently. I could jump between them at will and focus on controlling all three simultaneously. I had essentially created a hive mind. I was myself, I was them, I was us. Every movement and action was coordinated through my connection to their memories, each of our experiences influencing the others. We were all learning from one another, our identities blending together. I made sure to preserve the essence of who they were at the core of their personalities, but it was challenging to distinguish where I began, and they ended—and vice versa. It was no longer useful to think of us as individuals; we were one. One personality split into three.

As Nathan, I learned to cut the toxic people out of his life and heal the pain of his broken family. I guided him away from a troubled path. As Michael, I became more than just brawn. He was always intelligent, but now I allowed that aspect of him to shine. I focused on sports while ensuring he had a backup plan in case that didn't work out. My original body, along with Nathan's, has benefited from gym tips, while my body and Michael's have embraced confidence and relationship advice. However, when you control three bodies, sometimes love can wait, as I've been enjoying what these three bodies experience together when I'm feeling the urge. I don't know if there’s a way to undo what I’ve done, but until an answer comes, I'm going to live for all of us.

#male body tf #body #swap #transformation #tf #male #mischief #stories #male body swap #male transformation #malebodyswapmischief #male possession #possession #hive mind

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kaesaaurelia · 6 months ago

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soooo I just finished watching that star wars hotel video and oh my god the fire safety what the fuckkkk

BUT ALSO if you are some kind of weirdo who watched this (or the evermore video) and was like "man I wish that thing existed but was good," I... can't help you specifically with Star Wars (or generic high fantasy settings) but if you are an adult or a family with teens (who are okay with some mild references to sexuality in a coming-of-age context -- which honestly would go over the heads of most kids too young to deal with them?), don't have issues with darkness, flashing lights, or potential immune issues due to touching touchscreens, and enjoy a little light cosmic and/or implied body horror I highly highly suggest going to Omega Mart next time you are in Las Vegas. It is surreal and fun and while I definitely ran into some issues there with 1. going down the story path I didn't mean to go down and 2. LOSING MY EMPLOYEE ID CARD (to be clear I did not work there, in the fiction of the game all guests are Omega Mart employees), there were helpful (actual) employees there to jump in and help me without breaking immersion at all. They were great.

There are some pathways (physical pathways) that require an ability to climb stairs but there are ALWAYS multiple paths between two points so while you might not be able to crawl through the tunnel and then climb the rope from [spoiler place] to [other spoiler place] or do the slides, you can still physically get to the plot-important places and I think at most people who can't do stairs miss... some kind of pointless music machines? (Which I had fun with ngl but I fucked around with them for like 10 minutes more because I was in the area looking for my lost ID badge and asking if people had found it.) I haven't been to the other Meow Wolf installations but I would love to go given the chance.

And if you really want a themed hotel... well, you can't find an eldritch dimension-hopping supermarket-themed hotel, no, but if you stay on the strip there's going to be a lot of neon and trying to sell you things, and also optionally a theme, so like. That's not dissimilar.

Fire safety both at these Vegas hotels and at Omega Mart will be better than crawling into a small closet with 4 of your closest friends and hoping to not die, also. And a substantial amount of the story of Omega Mart is "wow corporate greed does ruin everything," so if you liked the video you probably will also like this.

[Edit: also to be clear I don't really think Omega Mart is small-child-friendly, but mostly because it's a lot of reading, and the bulk of it is either corporate memos or a teenage girl's diaries. A lot of the stuff I found most engaging was exploring the strained intergenerational family dynamic between the girl, her mom, and her grandfather, something that small children would find either boring or upsetting or both. It's not the sexuality that's the issue, it's some offscreen implied character death-but-not-really (that not-really doesn't make it better!) and just plain bad parenting, plus the broader theme of a greedy grocery chain turning ancient mystery and natural wonder into queasy reality-breaking horror.]

#kaesa op #omega mart #star wars hotel #jenny nicholson

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thefanficmonster · 9 months ago

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hii could i request a Seth Borden x gn!reader where the readers been teasing him abt being scared while they’re filming a haunted video and then they comfort him when he gets genuinely scared?? TYY

Hi sweetheart! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy the fic <3

Lots of love, Vy 💌

Safety Blanket

Pairing: Seth Borden x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Ghostly activity, Paranormal Investigations

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: see request above

"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" I mentally check out for a few seconds as Sam and Colby start filming the intro to their video as Seth and I idle around in the background. "Today, we'll be investigating one of the most brutal prisons in US history." Colby explains to the camera, turning to Sam to give him his cue.

"The Darkmont Correctional Facility in Huntsville, Alabama." The blond declares before turning off the. "We'll film the history segment inside, it's too windy out here. The audio will be a bitch to edit." He tells us, tilting his head to the entrance gates of the massive and downright terrifying building that has been abandoned for decades.

A shiver runs down my spine as I look up at it. Not so much out of fear, more so excitement. I was an urban explorer long before meeting and dating Seth, let alone Sam and Colby. I have a decent pile of trespassing charges under my belt but my adventures never included dabbling into the paranormal. It brings a whole new level of adrenaline to the table and it always makes for a remarkable experience, especially with these guys.

Seth, on the other hand, approaches the paranormal with much more skepticism and a ton more fear which I believe contradict one another - how can you be afraid of something you don't believe in? But alas, I don't fight him on it, I know it's pointless.

Messing with him, however, works like a charm.

I take my opportunity to do just that when I see him very visibly gulp as he takes in the exterior of the prison as we enter the courtyard past the giant metal gates the tour-guide left open for us.

"Someone's looking paler than usual." I poke his side with my finger, hitting a particularly ticklish spot that causes him to jump.

He grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together, "Not at all, I've seen worse." He shrugs, feigning nonchalance with a simple shrug even though I can clearly see the goosebumps on his skin.

"Whatever you say, babe." I mock him with a pout, dragging him along with me, forcing some speed in his steps to catch up with the guys.

The interior is infinitely worse than the exterior. It's stonewall, concrete and metal wherever the eye can see - which isn't much considering how dark it is. No lights are on, the only visibility being provided by the daylight seeping in through the barred up windows. It's a pretty cloudy day so there's not much of said daylight to go around either.

In short, it's the perfect atmosphere.

That's only confirmed further when I feel Seth's hand tightening its hold on mine, seeking the comfort he's too prideful to actually ask for.

"Welcome, yall." A deep voice with a southern drawl catches our attention out of the blue, startling us. Well, some more than others considering I didn't fail to pick on Seth's little jump out of the corner of my eye. I can't help but laugh, causing him to blush.

The voice belongs to our tour-guide Alan. He greets us each individually before starting the tour, telling us the stories stemming from this place. Sam, Colby and I take turns holding the main camera, capturing different angles as we walk through the eerie halls and cells. Seth tried helping out as well but his hands are too unsteady to get any usable footage so he's just taken to carrying the bag with the equipment and holding my hand as if I'm the scared one.

As the tour comes to an end, Alan turns off the lights he had turned on at the beginning, wishes us luck and sets off on his way, saying he hopes to see us all alive and well in the morning. It's the cherry on top of the terror cake he'd made with the history of the place as well as visitor horror stories. He gave us further proof of the paranormal activity in the place with pictures and recordings that Seth discreetly avoided looking at for too long.

The early hours of the night are upon us at this point and we've switched over to flashlights and the camera light to guide ourselves around the premises. Sam and Colby excuse themselves to the so called 'taming dungeon' to film the history segment for the video.

I walk around, looking at the marks on the stone walls while Seth remains rigid and jumpy in the middle of the large space that used to be a lobby. When I stray down the hall, following a trail of what I hope is paint on the wall, he jogs to catch up, prompting a laugh from me.

"Don't worry, babe. I ain't going anywhere. You're alright. The ghosts aren't coming to get you....yet." I add the last part with a low whisper and a tickle to the back of his neck. I've come to realize that defocusing his attention from the fear factor and instead move it to our banter is the best course of action. He'll never admit he's scared, so the best I can do is try and actually make him forget he's scared.

"Shut up..." He laughs, tickling my side as a counter-attack. "You're the worst."

I grin up at him, "Oh you love it."

Something tells me it's gonna be a pretty long night.

* * * *

"Is it just me or is it freezing in here?" Seth speaks up as we migrate from one floor onto the next after a brief investigation with the flashlights and other equipment. The spirits are talkative but dodged properly answering any of the questions we asked. They actually appeared to be talking amongst themselves more than us but it was still informative.

"I think it's cause you're a little bitch." Colby, who's also been put on edge by the activity we've gotten so far, replies. He masks his own fear by messing with the rest of us and I respect that. I'm doing the same.

"Oh fuck you!" Seth laughs, lightly punching his arm, "Y/N back me up here!"

Sam and I have already begun setting up the flashlights and REM pod so I'm partially distracted when I turn my head to look at the two. I glance between them, Colby giving me a fast nod. "Yeah, whatever Colby said." I shrug, evoking two completely different reactions from them.

As soon as we start, we are basically told to leave. We try to get a few questions in to try and ease up the tension but the spirit's opinion doesn't change - he wants us gone. And I can't blame him, if I died in this horrible place the last thing I'd want is to talk about it.

With that last group investigation we reach the audience favorite - and Seth's most dreaded - part: the solo investigations.

A game of rock-paper-scissors decides the areas we'd be covering: Colby takes the attic, Seth is on the second floor, I get the ground floor and Sam takes the basement somewhat voluntarily - something I greatly admire. We each take a piece of equipment with us and we split up.

"Hey..." I take Seth's hand before he follows Colby up the stairs, "I'm just a flight of stairs away. If you get freaked out, just call out to me, I'll meet you at these stairs, ok?"

He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, and truthfully - I needed that. "I'll be ok, I hope. But the same goes for you. Anything happens, I'll be right down."

With a parting kiss, we each begin our investigations.

I, for some reason, chose the music box to be my piece of equipment. I've placed it at the beginning of the main hallway and take a seat in a fold up chair, turning on night vision on my camera.

"Here goes nothing. I'll be fine, I'm far more worried about Seth, he hasn't been handling the night very well..." just as I say that I hear a voice and my heart nearly drops in my ass. Turns out I haven't been handling it all too well either, considering Sam's faint voice was enough to send me into cardiac arrest.

I take a deep breath, willing myself to actually say something to the potential presence keeping me company at the moment. Just then, the music box whirrs to life, playing its creepy tune for a good couple of seconds, as if encouraging me. "Hi, are you here in the hall with me?"

The answer is almost immediate as the music box comes to life once more.

"Were you a prisoner here?" I ask once the tune has stopped playing. I get no answer so I try again, "A guard?"

There it is, I think as the music creepily bounces off the walls in the quiet space. Sam has walked to a different part of the basement because I can no longer hear him. It makes the situation much more eerie, makes me feel much more alone.

I throw out a few more questions with no outcome that can be considered content worthy so I begrudgingly decide to relocate to somewhere else on the floor. Just as I grab he music box to turn it off, I hear a huge crash from upstairs and a string of curses that quickly get louder, accompanied with footsteps approaching the staircase behind me.

I quickly flick on the camera light, illuminating Seth who gallops down the stairs with inhuman speed. I barely manage to catch him, placing my hands on his arms in order to slow him into a halt and stabilize him. He's shaking like a leaf, his eyes are wide and his face has reached a sickly shade of pale.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what happened?" I ask as I pull him into a hug, "Hey, you're ok, you're ok. Everything's ok."

I see Sam peep his head up from the staircase, coming up from the basement, alerted by the noise. "What's wrong?" He asks as he jogs over to us. Colby is nowhere to be found, clearly oblivious to what happened.

"I...oh fuck...." Seth mutters, his breathing still heavy, "I mean, I got what I asked for. I wanted a clear sign and a door slammed shut. It freaked me the fuck out." He explains, still extremely shaken up but a bit calmer as he clings to me.

"Ok, ok, well that's great." I see the conflict on Sam's face, balancing between excitement over the footage Seth captured and worry for his friend. "Are you alright? Take a breather, stay here. I'll go grab Colby and we'll do the Estes method when you're ready." He says calmingly, his gaze fixating on me for rational and coherent responses but all I can do is nod, my full focus is taken up by Seth.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good. Holy shit, that was insane, though." He manages to say, tapping Sam on the shoulder, "Go get Colby."

I lead my boyfriend over to the chair I was previously occupying and sit him down, crouching in front of him, "You captured something incredible back there, babe. You're incredible!" My hands rest on his knees as I too still am wrapping my brain around what happened just now. "Whoever was there with you can't hurt you. You're stronger than them and you have authority. Hey, they might like you, even! I barely got anything down here. The spirits must really like you to shut a whole ass door for you." I'm rambling, I'm aware, but it seems to be working since Seth is smiling now, some color having returned to his cheeks.

He lets out a chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair, "Well, I am the distant relative of a murderer. That's gotta count for something." He says, making me laugh.

"That's what I'm talking about." I smile up at him, my thumb drawing abstract patterns on his knee, relieved to see he's feeling better already.

"Thank you." He adds after a stretch of silence, "You're like my safety blanket." His hand cups my cheek, automatically prompting me to lean into his touch immediately.

"Happily, babe." I slowly rise up so I can lean in and meet him halfway.

Just as our lips are within a millimeter, we hear pure disbelief echo off the walls as two pairs of footsteps rush down the stairs. "A fucking door slammed shut?!!" Colby shouts breathlessly, causing us both to burst out laughing.

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katebishopsbow · 2 years ago

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A STUDY BREAK • NEYMAR JR

pairing: neymar jr x reader (18+)

summary: in the middle of studying for your physics exam, neymar decided that you needed a little break, and he’s more than happy to help you de-stress.

tags: explicit sexual content (minors dni), fingering, spit, finger sucking, choking, praise kink, possessive!neymar, dom!neymar, inexperienced!reader, no mentions of y/n, established relationships

word count: 2.8k

(gif is not mine)

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

“Meu amor.” You hummed at your boyfriend’s nickname for you, keeping your gaze glued to the physics textbook before you as you flipped through another page. Finals week - every college student’s worst nightmare - was right around the corner, and you originally planned to have a cram study session at home, but Neymar managed to convince you to come over and study at his place - which you only agreed to after making him promise not to bother you while you were studying.

He tried sticking to his promise and busied himself with video games, heck, he even started cleaning the house out of boredom - but two hours had passed and he was getting real bored, and hard, and he wanted your attention.

You felt the bed dip behind you, and you sighed in contentment when his arms encircled your waist, tugging you closer toward his chest. “Are you done studying yet?” he asked despite already knowing the answer, though a devious plan was beginning to form inside his head that could most definitely convince you to take a break.

“Still got six chapters left… and the pile of notes over there,” you pouted while nodding your chin towards the papers scattered over the bedroom floor, and the mere sight of the messy notes was enough to worsen the terrible headache pulsating at your temples. A break was very much needed, but time didn’t quite allow you to take one at the moment, and pulling an all-nighter wasn’t exactly your forte.

“Take a break,” Neymar whispered behind your ear before leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on your neck, and another, and another, until you were a giggling mess writhing around in his arms. “Ney, stop, I have to study,” you protested jokingly, nudging him away with your elbow as you tried to suppress your laughter.

Neymar stopped for a second, and just when you thought he was finally going to stop pestering you, he leaned in closer and placed an open-mouthed kiss over your skin. “Let me help you relax, baby,” he exhaled, voice deep and hoarse almost as if he had just woken up while his hot breath fanned over the spot he just kissed.

Your breath hitched, and you could feel your pulse quicken at the sudden change of mood. He leaned in to kiss you again, right above your collarbone, swiping his tongue swiftly against your skin as he kept a firm grip on your waist.

Slowly and steadily, he let his finger slide down your waist and settled over your thigh, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your exposed skin below the hem of your shorts. His touch led a scorching hot trail along your body, goosebumps forming underneath his fingertips, and each circle he drew sent a flurry of tingles down your spine, clouding your mind with thoughts of him and him only.

You had every intention to stop, to pull away from him and get back to studying for the damned physics final you had the next day, but the truth was that you didn’t want it to stop. Every kiss and every touch was so intoxicating that you wished you could get lost in him forever.

The exam had somehow become the last thing on your mind, fading into blurry nothingness - pointless and unimportant. Instead, all thoughts were replaced by Neymar and every little thing about him - his touch, his kisses, his scent.

His lips pulled up into a slight smirk when he noticed the way your body stiffened and your breathing sped up, especially when his fingertips inched closer and closer to your core. He didn’t have to look at you to know that you were blushing, that your cheeks were heating up in a faint crimson while becoming so worked up by his gentle yet teasing touch, desperate for him to touch you but was simply too shy to say anything about it.

He knew everything about you - so innocent and so easy to read - and he knew how to get you exactly where he wanted.

“Let me make you feel good,” he said to you while you leaned backward, and he had to clench his jaw in an attempt to suppress the pleasured groan threatening to spill from his lips when your body brushed against his hardness over his sweatpants.

“Ney, what’s wrong?” you asked with a hint of genuine worry in your voice, completely oblivious to your effect on him and his aching need for you. “Nothing, love, just relax,” he reassured you as he tightened his arm around your waist, giving your thigh a comforting squeeze with his other hand.

Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to get any studying done, not when your boyfriend’s hands are all over you, you nodded at his words before allowing yourself to relax and leaned into his embrace, nestling closer to Neymar and settled between his legs. “Just a quick break…” you whispered softly with a defeated look on your face, but the excitement sitting in the pit of your stomach had long betrayed you - you wanted this just as much as him.

Neymar reached for your chin to turn your head towards him, leaning in slowly until his lips were mere millimeters away from your own. He was so close, so close that you could see the golden specs swimming in his eyes, that if you leaned forward the slightest bit you could kiss him.

But you remained unmoving, holding your breath in anticipation as you waited for him to do something - anything.

There was an unfathomable look in his eyes, a glint of hunger fueled by the desire he had for you. “Be a good girl for me,” he said hushedly, voice firm and authoritative as if he was daring you to misbehave - but you knew better than to do so. You watched as his gaze flickered down to your mouth, and then he leaned forward to connect your lips, stealing your breath away.

You let him take the lead like you always did, surrendering yourself to him in each and every way possible. His taste was intoxicating, each swipe of his tongue and each touch of his skin so addictive that you wondered how you were able to survive all these years before meeting him.

His hand glided down your face to settle over your neck, and you felt his fingers wrapped themselves loosely around your throat before giving it a light squeeze - gentle enough not to hurt, but hard enough to send a wave of pleasure down your body.

You never admitted to him how much you liked it whenever he did that, but you didn’t have to, because Neymar always knew every single thought inside of your pretty little head.

He gave you another squeeze - this time slightly harder, and he certainly hadn’t missed the way your breath hitched against his lips and the soft whine that you let out. “You’re such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?” he asked you quietly, and you couldn’t help but nod at his words albeit knowing it was more of a teasing remark rather than a genuine question.

He let out a small laugh, his breath hot against your lips before he pulled away to stare into your eyes. There was an almost wolfish glint in his gaze, fingers still wrapped around your throat as he breathed out, “Say it, tell me you’re my dirty little girl.”

Your thighs instinctively clenched together at his words, arousal filling up your chest from the thought of being his - completely and utterly his. “I’m your dirty little girl,” you repeated after him, your words coming out shakier than you thought, weak and breathy almost like a pleading whine.

Neymar grinned slightly before he continued kissing down your neck, leaving a trail of wet and tender kisses while occasionally nipping at your delicate skin, suckling and nibbling as he pleased. The fingers splayed on your thighs inched higher and higher until they reached the hem of your shorts where he began toying with the flimsy fabric, purposefully avoiding the place where you needed him the most.

You made a noise of frustration - whiney and desperate - and Neymar would’ve cooed at how adorable you were if it wasn’t for how insanely hard that sound had made him. “What is it, princess?” The simple question only managed to make your frustration grow, because you knew that he knew what you wanted, he just wanted you to say it out loud.

“Ney…” you let out a shuddering breath, feeling your body grow hot from the raw desire and want coursing through your veins. “What do you want me to do, hmm?” Neymar felt like a sick bastard for doing this, for teasing you and being so mean - and perhaps he was for wanting to hear those sinful words coming out of his sweet, innocent girlfriend. But the second the words spilled from your lips, he realized that he was fine being a sick bastard if it meant that he could keep hearing them.

With your wide eyes, blown pupils, and swollen lips, you inhaled a shaky breath before muttering softly at your boyfriend, “Touch me, please.” Three words, three simple words, but it was enough to send him into overdrive.

“Fuck, baby…” Neymar liked to think that he was a rather calm person - even on the field when his team was falling behind or when he only had mere seconds left to score a goal, he liked to think that he could stay unfazed and collected in most scenarios - though he swore he almost fainted upon hearing what you said.

The desperation seeping through your words and the pleading glint in your eyes, so innocent and clueless yet completely consumed by the sinful desire for him. Everything about you drove him to insanity, and he wanted to corrupt you so badly that it hurt.

The relief that washed over you when he finally slipped his hand inside your shorts was simply indescribable, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan the second his fingertips brushed against your skin. He glanced down at you with a tender gaze, watching you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. “I’ll make you feel real good, meu amor,” he said to you before pressing a kiss on the side of your head, voice sweet and mellow while he rubbed a gentle finger through your soaked folds.

The sensation was electrifying, and you found yourself wanting more from him - so much more. “Keep it wide open for me, hmm?” he instructed after pushing your thighs apart, humming in satisfaction when you nodded compliantly. Your eyes fluttered close as he traced your core with his fingers, gathering your wetness with each delicate stroke while he teased your entrance, swiping against your throbbing hole but not quite entering.

“Ney, please… I can’t…” you mewled as you gripped onto the sleeves of his sweatshirt, and as much as he enjoyed hearing you beg, he decided that it was enough teasing for the day. With a deep grunt, he finally slipped his fingers inside you, groaning at the warm sensation enveloping his slick digit. “God, you’re tight,” he huffed when he pulled out his finger, admiring the glistening wetness coating his hand before lifting it to his mouth, lapping feverishly at your sweetness as he smirked, “Sweet too.”

Pulling his finger out, he lifted his hand to your lips and pushed his spit-slickened digit inside your mouth, groaning at the warm cavern of your lips wrapped around him. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, unsure of what you were supposed to do as he gently pressed his finger on your tongue.

“Suck,” he ordered while he watched you with an intense gaze, and being obedient as ever, you began sucking lightly on his finger, tasting the slightest tinge of yourself on him. He pushed in even further, urging you to attempt swirling your tongue around him - and although your movement was slow and inexperienced, the lewd sight in front of him was enough to make him let out an obscene grunt.

Neymar wondered if he could possibly get any more turned on than this very moment, with you sucking on his finger as you glanced up at him with those innocent eyes, always so eager to please him. And more than anything, he wished that your lips were wrapped around his growing hardness instead.

He pulled out his finger abruptly, a string of saliva still connecting your lips to his slick hand, and he watched with intent as it broke off. Then his fingers were inside you again, this time adding a second one while he plunged them in and out of you with quick, deft strokes.

Wonton moans escaped your lips each time his fingertips dragged along your walls, touching you at just the right spot where you needed him the most. Neymar relished every whine, every mewl, every whimper that came from you, and he wondered how you would sound like when you finally reached your peak.

“F– feels so good…” Your chest heaved up and down, panting from the pleasure building deep within you as he continued speeding up his strokes. “God, you’re such a good girl for me,” he grunted between clenched teeth, keeping a steady pace with his fingers while his other hand traveled to your breast, giving it a tight squeeze.

The nickname made you feel lightheaded, filling your chest with a euphoric feeling that was difficult to explain. You wanted to be a good girl for him, you wanted to pleasure him the same way he was pleasuring you, you wanted to be his - only his and nobody else.

His fingers continued to move inside you - quick and experienced - stretching you out in the best way possible, and the pleasure that began building within you had slowly become overwhelming. “Ney, I–” you managed to choke out, feeling as if your breath got lodged in your throat. “Shhh, just a little bit more,” he shushed you and placed a kiss on your head, determined to bring you to the sweet release that he knew you so desperately needed.

Your body felt like it was on fire, his touch setting you ablaze while molten heat coursed through you. “I bet you’d feel so good around my cock, baby.” His voice sounded breathless, and the occasional grunts that escaped his lips were clear indicators that he was just as affected by this as you were.

“Ney, please…please,” You weren’t entirely sure what exactly were you begging for, your mind had become far too clouded to form any coherent thoughts. “Does that feel good?” He pressed down even harder, curling two fingers inside you as his thumb rubbed quick circles over your clit, his pace never faltering even when your fingers dug into his arm, nodding your head in a frantic manner.

You could feel yourself get closer and closer to the edge, so dangerously close that all you needed was a little bit more before you could reach your release. Over your fogged-up brain and the deafening heartbeat drumming in your ears, you felt Neymar reach for your hand and laced your fingers together, as if he was telling you to let yourself go.

“Be a good fucking girl and come for me. Show me how good it feels.”

Utter pleasure washed over you, enveloping every fiber of your being while you could feel yourself tumble over the edge. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling your mind go blank from the euphoria you were experiencing.

“There you go, baby.” Your body became limp in Neymar’s embrace, thighs clenching together involuntarily when his fingers continued to pump in and out steadily, working you through your orgasm.

In your peripheral vision, you could see your boyfriend’s face contorting, crumbling together as if he was using every ounce of willpower and self-constraint within him to hold himself back. “Fuck, you look so fucking good right now,” he grunted against your neck, unclasping your hands to bring your face toward him.

“Shit, that was amazing…” you whispered shakily when he leaned in to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. “Feeling less stressed out?” he asked between kisses, and the two of you broke out in laughter knowing damn well you had wasted your precious studying time.

When the laughter subsided, your eyes widened slightly as you felt him grind himself against your lower back, hard and stiff and aching with need.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you now, meu amor ?”

#neymar #neymar x reader #neymar smut #neymar jr #neymar jr x reader #neymar imagines #neymar fics

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prodbyton · 2 months ago

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i feel like nobody writes about seunghan these days which is kinda understandable but still i miss him so much :((( currently thinking about him having to go on tour and spending like the entire week before he has to leave being so clingy and needy like you're trying to get enough of him to keep you satisfied while he's gone (which lets be real is pointless because you can never get enough of him <\3) so then seunghan is teasing you and asking what you're going to do when he's not there but before you can answer he's like "show me." and you're like ??? so he says "show me what you're going to do when i'm not here to give my greedy baby what she needs." and before you know it he's making you touch yourself while he watches (and maybe records it) and refuses to help >:(((

i can understand why people are kinda straying away from writing for hani more recently because i honestly i had to basically stop writing for him a little bit (full fics at least) cuz i would just feel like shit writing it cuz i miss him so bad its just hard to really write smut for him rn yk… like i literally have a seunghan smut ive had drafted since april i dont have the heart to finish it 😭 but i miss him sm i re read all my fav hani fics so often

but this is so… yeah 😇🩷

you can never get enough of seunghan and he couldn’t get enough of you either, spending every waking moment with each other that way you wont miss him too much (it makes you miss him more when he’s gone) and when its getting to the last day before he has to go… you’re shocked when he asks what you’re going to do to satisfy yourself when he’s away.

imagine he buys you a new toy too, and telling you to use it and he wants to watch, he might even choose the settings and tell you to do it exactly how he says when he’s gone too. he’ll record it so he can have the video to use for when he’s missing you too <3 wouldn’t help you even if you’re whining about how you wish it was him touching you, wants you to make yourself cum at the thought of him and seeing him watch you honestly made the feeling more intense.

#toniiswrld 💌#riize hard hours #seunghan hard hours #riize smut #seunghan smut

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ameliaenya404 · 10 days ago

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can I have a scenario where Tomura just meets his cousins sweet little girlfriend, and at first, he hates her, but she’s just so pretty, and soon, he ends up falling for her.

(Can be SFW or NSFW)

Oooo I like this 💗💗💗

Tomura was never a fan of 'family'. Other than the pointless Christmas party he never really interacted with his extended family except for his cousin. He didn't even really like his cousin, to be honest, he was just someone Tomura tolerated because he was good at video games. He'd come over every week or so, and he and Tomura would sit down and play for a while in the basement.

The basement was finished and large, it had a variety of consuls and a large TV, a shitty torn-up couch with the stuffing coming out, and a mini fridge with plenty of beer.

His cousin usually came over with nothing more than himself and a six-pack of beer as a peace offering. That was until he brought you along. So quiet and polite, your hands clasped in front of you as you greeted him sweetly. Tomura was irked when he first met you, because why were you even there in the first place? You couldn't play for shit probably and he was overall annoyed someone else would be crashing in on his fun.

But he let you stay, against his own judgement. You sat on the couch watching them play. You were atleast quiet so he wasn't too annoyed by your presence.

He had a particular hatred for couples. But it was different when his cousin's hand lingered on your thigh or you gave him sweet kisses after he won a round. It wasn't a usual sense of hating for the sake of hating, it was...Jealousy?

You were pretty, he'd give you that. And everytime his cousin -not so discreetly- felt you up when he thought Tomura wasn't looking, he wished he was the one touching you instead. The one playing with the little bows on your stockings, the one getting a kiss on his cheek whenever he won a round, the one going home with you and having his way with you.

He felt crazy, but every time you came over the feelings got worse and worse.

He'd never been alone with you, that is until the mini fridge ran out of drinks.

His stupid cousin offered to run to the store 20 minutes away and come back with more to stock up the fridge, leaving you and Tomura alone in silence. The game paused, both of you sitting on the couch a mere inch away.

Your hands were in your lap, playing and nervously tugging on the white lace of your skirt. He wanted so badly to flip that skirt up, pull you onto his lap, and- NO. He was going crazy with you just sitting there. The sweet scent of your perfume makes him dizzy.

"So...you have a really nice house," the silence is broken with your sweet voice. Tomura had almost forgotten he didn't live in a vacuum, you'd seen the rest of his house when you had to go upstairs to use the bathroom. You had opinions, thoughts, and such. His house was nice he supposed, his family was well-off. He didn't put a lot of thought into it, it didn't matter to him.

Oh he had to respond didn't he?

"Um thanks,"

Wow real smooth Tomura.

He never talked to girls. Especially pretty ones like you. It made him nervous, and itchy. He didn't realize his nails were clawing into the flesh of his neck until you let out a small sound when blood started dripping from his neck and staining the couch.

"Oh...um...let me go get something for that!" You got up, running up the stairs to the upstairs bathroom. Your voice didn't hold any judgment, just slight concern. It was cute, the nervousness in your voice. Adorable even.

You came back down with the shitty first aid kit that he knew his family kept under the bathroom sink. You sat next to him, so incredibly close. He could feel your breath against his skin as you lifted his hair away from his neck. You squeaked out a small apology as you wiped the slightly deep scratch marks with an alcohol wipe. It stung but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to.

He watched as you fumbled through the first aid kit, grabbing a couple bandaids and carefully placing them over the scratches.

Tomura watched as you hesitated before gently kissing right over the bandaid on his neck. You glanced up at him through your lashes and before you could do something stupid, the front door opened and footsteps came down the stairs.

You and Tomura quickly separated to opposite sides of the couch and you shoved the first aid kit under a pillow. Your boyfriend, his dumb cousin comes down with a smile and drinks in his hand. Giving you a small kiss that made Tomura agitated all over again. Although he could see you hesitantly return the kiss, the fact you hesitated at all gave him slight consultation.

He make you his eventually. He was going to anyway but now that he knew you were already a little sweet on him, it'd make it so much easier.

He'd just have to make your boyfriend leave a little more often.

#bnha #mha #mha x you #shigaraki x reader #tomura shiragaki

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kasslovestlou · 8 months ago

Text

Waiting… (E.W x Fem Reader)

Modern AU.

I didn’t write this too well but I’ll write some more once I get more ideas. Enjoy!

____________________

You were waiting for you best friend at the airport. It was 10:16pm and your were exhausted although you had arrived just almost an hour ago and had slept for majority of the day.

Your friend hadn’t message you any updates and although you thought maybe they were on their way…it didn’t seem so.

Having nothing else to do, you decided on messaging your girlfriend, not to complain but just to help pass time.

You:

Hey babe, wyd?

Els:

Reading “No Pun Intended” Volume Too”.

You:

You’re still reading it!? I thought you finished reading those a long time ago! 😂

Els:

They keep releasing new ones. They’re really cheesy but good.

You:

Alright, I’m in the mood. Try me.

Els:

What is the downside to eating a clock?

You:

…?

Els:

It’s time consuming 🕐

You:

That’s a rlly good one 😂😂. I wish time would go by faster. I’m gonna fall asleep.

Els: Are you okay? What’s going on?

You: I’m at the airport and have been for alsmost an hour now waiting for my best friends arrival but she isn’t replying to my messages so I decided to text you in hopes of helping time pass by. Sorry for interrupting you.

Els: No, no it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll come and keep you company. On my way now.

30 minutes later, you saw Ellie just a few ways away from you.

“Hey babe” she said as she sat beside to accompanying your boredom.

“Hi Els. Thanks again for coming and keeping me company, I hope this won’t take too long. It’s almost midnight.” You told her as you yawned at the last few words.

“It’s okay. If you wanna sleep, I’ll be your pillow.”

“It’s ok, thanks though.” You would take her offer any day but you were too excited to see your best friend who you had been video calling the past 2 years. You were way too excited.

Minutes of silence passed as the two of you sat and waited for any updates from your fiend but still nothing.

“Hey” Ellie turned to you.

“Hm?” You hummed in response.

“What did the triangle say to the circle?”

You thought for a moment before giving up and not being able to think of an answer.

“I dunno, what did it say?”

“You’re so pointless.”

You burst out in laughter, but you didn’t care wether you bothered the people around you. You smacked your thigh as your head went up to the ceiling as your fit of laughter continued.

It was only then when you had just calmed down that you got a message your friend as on their way.

You truly didn’t know what you’d do without your girlfriend coming to accompany you.

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams the last of us #tlou2 #ellie tlou2 #imagine #tlou fanfiction #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou

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liquidcrystalsky · 8 months ago

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guy with tartar icon has entered the askbox. I think it's worth noting the sheer amount of shit that tartar went through I WILL PREFACE THIS BY SAYING THAT NOTHING MAKES ATTEMPTED OMNICIDE AND EUGENICS MORALLY RIGHT OR ACCEPTABLE ✋ the professor essentially hoisted emotion and the collective knowledge of humanity as a whole onto a machine that was then guaranteed to survive to watch everything and everyone it knew die out before being entirely isolated with no other signs of life for 10,000ish years (guesstimating how long it may have took for inkfish to begin developing, anyway) like no wonder it went totally postal. its particularly cosmically ironic knowing what we know now from alterna that inkfish's entire society and way of being was built off the dreams and crystalized memories of the last of humanity. boy what I wouldn't give to see tartar and orca interact. there's a lot of parallel between its motives and grizz's but we still didn't really get enough of his backstory to really get to know him as a character. here's hoping for more grizz lore in the splat3/sideorder equivalent of haikara walker though. i don't really have a thesis or point im trying to make here i just think all of the villains so far have been superb characters and will jump at any chance to share my countless hours over five years of loredigging and thinking about them

yeah if i had the entire internet beamed into my head i'd go insane too. let alone be stuck with that for 10k years.

also yeah, the "ironic because inkfish are also based on humans" actually fits into the english translation of tartars motivation better

In the original, tartar specifically talks about how inklings would fight pointless turf wars and other inkfish specific qualities and tartar reveres the humans and his goal is to bring them back

In the English translation, Tartar criticizes the inklings for basically the same bad shit humans did, and instead wishes to bring a new race into existence. I think the splatoon 3 lore fits this one better.

(paraphrased from this rassicas video)

#ask #stobotnik

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hplonesomeart · 5 days ago

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Hey!! So turns out a video I made between a certain “well beloved but highly sensitive/emotionally reactive T.V” and an “orange haired inkling-turned-human” has managed to sweep my YouTube channel and accumulate 100k VIEWS!! THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY?? My most widely viewed video EVER to exist in this moment in time?? AAAAA?? Not even mentioning the various comments and staggering increase in subs! It’s so much more then what I expected or even prepared for—might even be the most impactful thing to happen for me this year <3

…aside from graduating high school + the social connections I’ve been fortunate to make lol

BUT THE POINT IS I’d been closely monitoring the YouTube growth through the entirety of October. It’s make me smile like a dork, gawk in astonishment, dance frantically in my room from the energy boosts, and grow courage to stop being so selective/self-conscious with what I wish to share with the world! It’s kept my ambitions going!

I needed to find some way to celebrate the occasion and express my thanks—because I can’t NOT acknowledge this milestone jksjskp. Typically I try to avoid getting tunnel visioned focusing on the metrics/numbers. Mr. Puzzles had already demonstrated how much those things can mess with the minds of creatives. Caring too much about chasing views or placing your artistic value in attention seeking gets damaging. But at same time…it’s hard to deny the sense of pride the 100k achievement has filled me with. I understand that reaching 100k views doesn’t immediately make me any “better” or “worse” then I was before. I’m still just me! It only helps me feel seen by others—and that’s all I really needed. To hear some nice words & receive reminders that my ideas are cared about. So thank you SMG4 fandom for that, seriously thank you.

Please accept this Mr. Puzzle drawing as a way of sharing the happiness around. He’s so entertaining. Love him for simply existing. So glad we can all collectively be super attached to him (and the rest of the SMG4 cast of course). Can’t wait to see more incredible artworks from the fandom :)

Just incase anyone is confused by my vague description over which “animated video” I’m referring to here—hopefully this photo will help clarify lol. It’s this one!! Sorry about not outright stating the title at the start, I got carried away with writing!!

I’ve been in an odd place mentally when thinking about it. Wondering to myself if any of the attention is deserved considering it’s not even fully colored and could be dismissed as “low effort” content (despite taking several days making it). It’s easy to get into a trap of comparing yourself to others and questioning how much of the videos success is based on your skills, sheer algorithm luck, or only because you used popular characters and catered to a specific fandom. And then judging yourself by looking at other peoples videos. I’ve seen several artists post higher quality works then my own but it somehow gets less views. So why did mine succeed when others (who should have gotten just as much attention if not more) didn’t? Sometimes you feel like you’ve unfairly robbed them of that chance to be seen. However I’ve realized that I can’t ever expect views to be consistent—and comparing is pointless. So why worry about it or feel inadequate? I mean it’s pretty common for funny cat videos to go viral, so who am I to question the system lol. “Popular” YouTube videos can range from a passion project which took 7+ artists…to a clip of Toad singing Chandelier or a nonsensical Vine sketch. Anything can happen when it’s the internet! And just-so-happened my video was chosen. I should stay glad about that and get rid of all the overanalyzing. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do :)

#OKAY SO SO SO actually started doodling this once the video was around 98k this morning #it wasn’t even meant to be art specifically designed to celebrate the milestone at first #I just wanted to draw the funky fella who makes me laugh #but as you can see that changed up fast jksjksp #I was under the impression that my video wouldn’t reach near 100k until December UH?? WHAT HAPPENED MY PREDICTION THWARTED??#seems I’ve severally underestimated how long the traction would continue for geez wow uh #people sure do enjoy comedy gotta love ‘em laughs and giggles #I CAN’T BELIEVE WE REACHED IT THO. THAT’S INSANE TO ME—ALL THE SUPPORT AND COMMENTS AND SUBS #thank you SMG4 fandom I would’ve never fathomed the algorithm to carry it so far like this #you wanna know the real kicker?#things would have gone so differently for the channel if I didn’t wrestle with my anxiety & post there #because there was a point during that day where I fullheartedly figured it would cause me to loose subs #I was kinda terrified ngl #this goes to show that you should never hold yourself back from sharing different aspects of your interests #you don’t need to confine yourself to just one thing #or to strive only to make the most high quality videos ever (I put that pressure on myself a bit too much nowadays)#sometimes it’s the simple ideas that manage to charm people #and those who see the effort will stick around to support you. You just need to trust yourself during the process and take that chance :)#EWWWW MUSHY GUSHY SENTIMENTALITY CLOGGING UP THE ATTENTION HERE #whatever happened to keeping the focus on ✨the star✨ who made it all possible to begin with huuuu??#show a bit more gratitude to the charming TV who boosted the viewership in the first place…don’t be so self absorbed with morals lonesome 😒#what is this some sort of My Little Pony episode oh pleaseeeeee 🙄#<- all of that was a simulation of Puzzles interjecting and nagging a bit lol. I’d imagine he’s tried of my nonstop nonsense #….yea the Puzzle brainrot is reaching maximum severities. So there’s high chance I’ll be animating him more down the line :3 #stick around to find out!!#hplonesome art

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lulublack90 · 3 months ago

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Prompt 18 - Gymnastics

@wolfstarmicrofic August 18, word count 986

Previous part First Jegulus part

Sirius led everyone back to his and Remus’s flat. He was so excited about the BBQ. But what he was most excited about was the big bag of marshmallows he’d bought to toast over the fire. He dragged Remus by his hand to the front door and unlocked it. He inhaled deeply when they walked in. He loved his home so much. They hadn’t been here long, but it already held so many happy memories for him.

James strode through the flat and straight out the French windows into the garden. Regulus stood a bit out of place near the front door until he followed James outside and watched him build up the fire. Sirius and Remus were terrible at starting the BBQ. Even with the easy light bags, somehow they never took. Sirius shrugged and went into the kitchen to get the food out of the fridge, ready to be cooked.

He could hear James talking in the living room, something about the sofa being soft. Remus darted past him and poked his head around the door.

“If you break it, Potter, you’re paying for another one. Remember last time?” Sirius had to bury his face in the crook of his arm to stop them hearing his laughter.

“Er, yeah, sorry, Moony,” James said sheepishly. Sirius could hear Regulus whispering excitedly and James’s deep voice rumbling out his excuse for breaking their sofa. They got up and Sirius couldn’t hear them any more.

He began mixing together his secret salad dressing. It was simple but brought the otherwise bitter leaves to life. It was a recipe that Effie had given him, passed down from her mother and stolen from some friend of her mother. James wouldn’t have any other kind of dressing and was known to sneak a small bottle of it into restaurants and use that instead of whatever they had.

He checked the steaks he’d been marinating overnight. They smelled divine, peppery and herby. They had sausages and chicken wings as well, plus loads of sides. There was no way they were going to eat it all, but Sirius didn’t mind eating the rest tomorrow.

“Darling, did you leave you know what on the bedside table?” Remus asked matter-of-factly. Sirius paled.

“Yup,” He swallowed, but he could already hear James and Regulus coming back from that direction, so it was pointless trying to dive and roll around them with all of his teenage gymnastics skills to stop them from seeing what he’d forgotten to put away. Regulus appeared in the doorway beside James and flushed brightly when they made eye contact. “Right start taking this stuff out,” He ordered, trying to get Regulus away from him. He spun to check the dressing again and by the time he’d picked up his own plates to take outside, both Regulus and James were gone.

“Don’t worry, my love. It could have been worse,” Remus said, stealing a kiss before he followed the others outside.

He was so full. He could see his stomach protruding over his jeans. He wished he’d changed into his leggings, but now he didn’t want to move. He popped another toasted marshmallow into his mouth and groaned as the sweet gooey mess spread inside his mouth after he broke through the toasted skin. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through tictok.

He was just popping another marshmallow into his mouth when his thumb froze. He was in a video.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL!!!” He yelled at his phone as it played a video of him berating Regulus in the café from the other day. He clicked on the creator’s profile, Wormtail was their name and scrolled through. There were a lot of different people losing it in public, but the ones with the most views were of him in the café. “Who the fuck does this guy think he is?!” He cried angrily at his phone. That’s when he noticed the logo, a fat grey rat. The rat phone case man! He was going to kill him. “And I gave you an extra almond croissant you little shit! That's it he’d banned!”

Remus’s hands found his shoulders and began pushing him into the flat. He looked around for his brother and James, but they’d gone. He had no idea when they’d disappeared, but he was more concerned with the next video that came up of Wormtail going into the back of the café to film him ranting at the toastie machines when he’d burnt his hand on one. That was crossing the line. “Remus,” He said, calmer than before, and held up the phone for Remus to see.

“What the!” Remus was outraged now. “It clearly says, Staff Only, No Entry, Private, on the door!” His brow was furrowed in anger as he scrolled through a few more of the videos. “It’s not the first time either, look,” Sirius peered at the screen and saw himself rocking back and forth chanting. “Be nice, be nice,” The camera suddenly turned to the ceiling and bounced into the store cupboard before cutting off. “That’s right when you came and got me,” Sirius whispered. He’d been feeling so vulnerable in that moment and some guy he didn’t even know had recorded it and posted it online for likes. “Fuck,” He sobbed. Remus’s arms wrapped him in a tight warm hug.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” He murmured into Sirius’s hair.

Remus led Sirius to the bedroom, wrapping him in the duvet before going to run a bath. He took Sirius’s phone away from him and Sirius was grateful. He’d only spend the entire night watching the videos over and over, making himself feel worse. At least he had tomorrow to sort himself out.

“Remus?” His voice was croaky and muffled from the duvet.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Remus came back in from the bathroom and stroked his hair.

“Can we go see Mum tomorrow?”

Next part

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thewertsearch · 1 year ago

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@skelekingfeddy submitted: hey so i was reading through your homestucksona tag and i decided to draw some of your concepts, namely sahlee’s lusus, the midnight crew, and the Palace Historian! i also sprinkled in some of my own ideas (i mean i literally made a whole new exile LOL) hope you like it!

Holy hell, that is some top god-tier spritework. You've officially canonized my Grubsprite's design.

In fact, I don't even know if this was deliberate, but her wires look a lot like the ones in this picture of Sahlee. Above is the same image, without the shadow layer, and even the colors match.

The idea here is that Sahlee is using her psionics to interface directly with her technology. I like the idea that she's able to 'talk' to Grubmom over the network - they probably play a lot of video games together. Maybe it was Grubmom who told her about the most important video game of all.

It feels so right that DD is the best hacker in the Crew. Those glasses were actually part of Sahlee's as-yet-unseen alchemy binge - and unfortunately for her, he actually knows how to use the computer inside.

I love the Investigator, too. I think the catalyst for her Exile was her association with one particular Dersite - a Battlefield farmer who wished to end this pointless war.

By this point, the Investigator had pilfered several files from the Black Queen's private archives, and learned more than any rank-and-file Carapacian was ever supposed to know. She knew that her friend's uprising would be sabotaged by Paradox Space - so she suggested a more decentralized form of resistance.

Together, they worked on a tell-all news article about the true cost of the War. They didn't pull any punches, either - the article called Derse's entire raison d'etre into question, demanding to know what the Royal Plan even is.

"WHAT HAPPENS WHEN WE WIN, EH?

AIN'T IT KINDA WEIRD THAT THE SUITS HAVEN'T TOLD US?

ALL THOSE BOYS IN MAROON... WHAT ARE THEY ACTUALLY FIGHTIN' FOR?"

It even dared to ask why they hated Bilious Slick.

Anyway, the Black Queen caught the article through the malware she'd hidden in PawnziBuddy, a 'virtual tyrant' that every Dersite is legally required to install. She canned the article, Exiled the Investigator, and turned the tabloid's server rack into a GristCoin mine.

HI also sent a copy to a Prospitian she trusted - but, oddly enough, that archivist vanished without a trace. Prospit is surely beyond the Black Queen's reach, so it was probably just an unhappy coincidence.

Sad, though - that document could have won Prospit the war. It's too bad that the White Queen never got her hands on it.

#homestuck #homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #homestucksona #asks #PH (reluctantly) helped her break into Derse's archives. king #They're basically the same as Prospit's‚ save that the theme music is in a minor key

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mrsmarlasinger · 1 year ago

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The surreal thing about the Titan submersible: unless someone pulls off a miraculous last-minute rescue, when we all wake up tomorrow, those five men will be dead.

I mean, assuming they haven't already hyperventilated the last of their oxygen or imploded in a hull failure event.

It's currently June 22nd, 1:48 AM, MDT. If they're still alive, they will not be within the next...what, three hours? Give or take. And it would take hours to get the sub to the surface if it were found miles underwater, so if it's at the bottom of the sea, that really gives the rescuers...I don't know, like, maybe an hour to pull off the impossible?

These men are about to cross the event horizon.

When the banging sounds were first reported, it blew my fucking mind. I'd been certain that they were dead already, or that if they weren't, they would be soon. Without question. Then came this bizarre, impossible glimmer of hope. And I thought, if those sounds really were occurring at thirty-minute intervals, if it really was the Titan passengers, then maybe—maybe—they had a chance.

But they just...don't. Let's be realistic: they're about to die. We know this. We know for a fact that their time is about to run out.

And I know people are angry about the Missing White Woman Syndrome feel of it all. It would make for such on-the-nose satire. Five wealthy men have the world on pins and needles; where was that energy when hundreds of refugees drowned off the coast of Greece a week ago?

It frustrates me that I'm so invested in the Titan sub. It's like the entire incident was orchestrated for the sole purpose of grabbing attention (of course I don't believe that's the case). The very premise of the sub is tauntingly ridiculous—so very blatantly an expensive suicide. I saw someone compare it to an Onion article, and it IS.

The shitty video game controller, the ominous waiver, Stockton Rush's portentous comments (hell, even his name), the toilet sat right in front of that tiny dollhouse window. The absurd price tag paired with a history of failed dives and an OceanGate employee fired and sued years ago for raising safety concerns.

God, it's so dumb. It's so so fucking dumb. In real life, what we'd call "foreshadowing" is really just actions→consequences. But still. Still. It reads like sitcom writers setting the dominos for a season finale, tirelessly working to maximize memeability so we can all point and laugh with our popcorn.

The sheer pointless, brainless, wasteful extravagance of it all makes it easy to forget how horrific and tragic the ordeal really is. It grants us some strange permission to rubberneck.

And, well, who wouldn't want to rubberneck? The drama. Horror movie levels of repulsion. Any fear you can imagine—the dark, the cold, the ocean, suffocation, confined spaces, death—all wrapped into one perfect, cinematic nightmare. It's a black comedy: dumbassery punished by a fate we don't, shouldn't, wish even on billionaires.

Then, of course, there is the deadline. Pun not intended.

That, I think, is what's really gripped us. The limited oxygen supply is a countdown, a ticking time bomb. Ten minutes left in the movie—can the protagonist pull off a daring escape in time?

God, I know I sound like one of those crisis actor conspiracy theorists, but you couldn't manufacture a more gripping story if you tried. That hard figure we've seen in every news article: 96 hours. Ninety-six hours to save the day.

Can you see the Netflix docudrama now? The cuts to a black screen with the remaining number of hours emblazoned in the center? "If we don't find that sub tonight, those men are dead," some intrepid rescuer says...a split second of grave silence...then the scene goes black, except for a line of heavyweight white text that reads, in all caps, "SIX HOURS REMAINING." Next we'll see a heart-wrenchingly candid conversation between the passengers, for character development.

You know Channel 5 is airing a documentary about the Titan in the UK tomorrow. Tonight, actually, since I guess it's technically Thursday morning. The countdown was so hard-set, ITN calculated the exact hour at which they could broadcast their production. The perfect moment for them to capitalize on that post-curtains melancholy we all get at the end of a movie.

It's crass, but fascinating, too. Is ITN going to acknowledge their production timeline by leaving the documentary's ending ambiguous, a choice which will ring bittersweet when aired in the aftermath of the inevitable deaths? Will they scramble to concoct an ending in those mere hours after the passengers asphyxiate? Have they already made two endings: one in case of a miracle, and one in case of a tragedy? Any answer is soulless.

But all of this is soulless. The Titan is our gladiator fight, our bread and circuses. Still, I can't stop staring, because I cannot wrap my head around it. It's 3:30 AM now. Within hours, they will be dead, sure as an execution.

Few news stories come with such a grim deadline. Almost always it's a nail-biting rescue whose twists and turns we follow until some hitherto-unpredictable endpoint; or a sprawling clusterfuck of tragedy trailed by aftermath upon aftermath; or a search for a missing person that eventually meanders into a quiet presumption of death.

The certainty blows my mind—the finality of it, the tragedy of it, is incomprehensible. It doesn't feel real. Why do I care so much? Those men were dead from the start (if not literally, then certainly figuratively). Why do I keep reading about it, posting about it? Why can't I stop watching the car wreck smolder? What am I doing still standing in the street?

I hate that I fell prey to the submarine story like everyone else with an internet connection. But whatever deity may or may not exist got bored, I guess, and crafted the dramedy-action-horror hybrid of the year. Even wove in little cliffhangers (the banging! On the sonobuoys! There's still time!) to string us along like a damn HBO producer.

It gets me, man.

It's 4:00 AM, MDT. I guess it's really over, huh? I know 96 hours was never an exact deadline, but let's not be idealistic here.

I hope it was quick. I hope they imploded in a single terrible instant.

I hope the next sunken boat of six hundred refugees wins as much attention as the Titan did.

I hope Netflix doesn't make that docudrama with the black screen and the all-caps line of heavyweight white text.

I hope we sleep. I hope I sleep. I hope we all can sleep.

#titanic #oceangate #titanic submarine #titan submarine #titan #ocean gate #missing submarine #submarine #death #june 2023 #current events #suicide mention

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