#and tropey

[minimomoe]

How to Train your Demon

Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.

Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (buti it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....

Song inspo: E.V.O.L- MARINA

Part I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. (completed!)

Rule no. 1: Don't show fear

It was a mistake. A comical, nonsensical, monumental mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. You didn’t mean to create a soul tie with a demon . All you did was read a torn up book from the library. Was it an occult book about spiritual practices in the Japanese Heian era? Yes… but it doesn’t warrant an eldritch horror being your life partner. 

Actually, according to the demon, you didn’t create the soul tie, he has been waiting for you all his life. Cute, but it didn’t make the situation any better. Damn your natural inclination to catch the old and withered items thrown into the donation boxes of the library you worked at. It just pained your heart to see pages falling out of books, and the ominous leather bound grimoire was no exception. 

Restoration was one of your favorite things to do. Knowledge is always worth saving, no matter how old it may be. Books were your life. You found yourself lost in them, enchanted, terrified, taught. You had no genre as your favorite. Everything was welcomed, nothing was off limits. You knew a little bit of every culture, every study, every block buster fantasy. If you could, you’d build a machine that would let you live inside of a book and experience the scene yourself. 

Technically you could ask your all powerful demon to do that, but you didn’t want to deal with him right now.

You still weren’t all too sure on how it happened. First you were glueing the pages back to the spine of the book, running your fingers over the deckled edges when you opened a page that was stuck together. You carefully peeled it apart, a task that took ten minutes to do to avoid any additional tears, and opened up to a page that was different from the rest. The words were written in a rush, the strokes of the characters dragging much longer than it should. You only knew a tiny bit of Japanese (but much more of Latin, Russian, Yoruba, and French from having just an abundance of time on your hands), but this time you could make out some of the words. 

You muttered the ones you knew for sure, used context clues for the ones that were beyond reading. It didn’t make a lick of sense to you. You closed the book with a clamp so that the glue would set and decided to come back to it tomorrow since it was closing time. There was no rush of wind, flash of lightning, or eerie sounds. Just you and the screech of a thousand cicadas as soon as you stepped outside to walk to your car. A normal Thursday night.

Until it wasn’t. 

You shuffled around your house with a new arc from your favorite novelist in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, and the largest frame of glasses known to man perched on your nose. Jazz music quietly spilled out from your hidden speakers, preventing the house from getting a little too quiet as you lived alone with your cat. It was a total boring cliche, you were well aware, but you were happy with your life. You had friends who you trusted, a great relationship with your parents, and just recently got out of a relationship with someone who you didn’t hate, you just grew apart. There was no chaotic, negative energy to feast on in your household and you liked it that way. 

You thought you heard your cat clawing on the door when you were snuggled away in your bed. You flipped the covers over and went to let her in to snuggle with you. 

“I’m so sorry, Cleo. I thought you were already in here with me,” you said, scooping her up from the floor. The ragdoll cat begrudgingly accepted your kisses of apology. You set her down on the bed, watching her find a good spot to curl up in and smiled. You went to reach for your wine glass you knew that you set on your nightstand, but there was nothing in the glass. You were sure that you didn’t finish it. You paced yourself well enough for it to last until at least chapter five, but there wasn’t a drop of alcohol left. 

“The quality of sake has diminished over the years, I see.” 

The voice came from all around the room but also deep in your chest. Cleo hissed, making a run for it out of your door, leaving you wildly spinning around for the intruder. You lunged for the heavy duty taser you kept in your nightstand, but when you turned around there was nobody there.

“What is that?” 

The bone chilling voice spoke again. Was it one person or many, you couldn’t tell. 

“I— I have a weapon!” You tried to steady your voice but it was hopeless. You were terrified. There was nobody there but you could feel a heavy presence in the room. 

“You call that a weapon?” The voice laughed. “The only weapon my wife needs is me.”

The statement made you falter. “Wife? Who are you?”

You turned around once again and nearly jumped out of your skin. A man, or a close approximation of one, sat on your bed flicking through your book. It was impossible, but he had twice as many limbs on his top half than he should, and double the amount of eyes. They were bright and red when scanning through your novel. “What language is this?” 

“F-french,” you whispered. You were dreaming. You had to be. That was the only way this could be happening. Still, dream or not, you had to protect yourself. You pressed your taser and watched the prongs leap out and touch his bare skin. He looked unbothered, merely looking down at his stomach where the taser landed and moved his arm to reveal a mouth on his abdomen. A tongue flopped out and licked the prongs, dragging it back to the mouth and the taser was slowly dragged out of your hands and into the mouth. You watched in horror as the hard plastic was crushed to pieces in front of your very eyes. 

“Useless weapon,” he reiterated, this time looking directly at you. “Don’t insult me again.” 

“Pl—please don’t hurt me.” There was nothing left to do but beg. You already punched yourself till blood was drawn. This was not a dream, you were looking at a real, evil monster who didn’t know French and ate high voltage tasers. 

He rose from your bed. You crawled away as much as you could until you bumped into a wall and still you wanted to move through it. He stood before you, looking over your trembling frame and called out for you. 

“Rise.” 

You rose, unsure if you really had a choice in the matter. One of his many hands cupped the side of your face. A clawed thumb brushed away the tear that fell on your cheek.

“Why do you weep?”

“Um… well… I don’t really know who you are,” you said honestly. You were still pinned to the wall, unable to flee and he took up your entire frame of sight. He nodded, removing his hand from your face and raising it in the air. You thought he was going to strike you and you flinched. When you opened your eyes again he was multiple steps away from you, still raising his palm.

“Time has faded your memory of me. You are my wife, and I am your husband. The string of fate proves that we are mates.” 

He stated it so matter of factly. You are my wife, and I am your husband. My wife, your husband. Mates. Forget dreaming, you have officially lost your mind. 

“I don’t… remember agreeing to that,” you said carefully. The words “husband” and “wife” bounced in your head in a crazy echo. You slumped to the floor, your body suddenly very tired. A laugh bubbled up your throat and escaped your mouth. So much for your boring life.

“Do you not feel the connection? The string is tied from my last finger to yours.” You looked at your hand, not seeing any supposed string and shook your head. 

He frowned. “You do not agree to it. It has been decided.” He crouched in front of you, inspecting your face earnestly. One side of his face was strange, not normal skin, instead inhuman, bumpy and shades darker. 

“You look the same after all this time,” he murmured. “I will make you remember.” 

“Let’s not do that,” you said quickly. “I don’t even know your name and I am not married. I’m a librarian and I have a cat. And I have never, ever met you before.”

“I am known as Sukuna, among other names,” he responded to one of your distresses. “What title is a librarian?”

This time you laughed. An deranged laugh, loud and unbecoming. Sukuna waited as impatiently as he could for you to be finished, but you kept on cackling. Once out of breath, you wiped the tears out of your eyes and leaned against the wall. It finally dawned on you how this happened. The drying grimoire that was locked up in the library was responsible for this strange turn of events.

“It’s not a title, at least, not in the way you’re thinking. It’s my job, one that I love very much. Was I ever a common worker before?”

Sukuna bristled at the thought. Even his tummy mouth frowned. “You were a queen. You wanted nothing because you had everything.”

“Interesting,” you mused. “I’m so not your girl.”

“I’m not interested in little girls.”

“Kudos to you. I think I’m going to sleep now. I’m clearly much more tired than I think I am.”

“We have things to discuss,” Sukuna protested, but you already slipped under the sheets. If I force myself to sleep he will go away, you thought. 

Instead you felt the dip of the other side of your bed and flung your eyes open. Sukuna was in bed, with you, staring your down with his four eyes. He was much too close for your liking. 

You looked at him wildly. “What are you doing?” 

“Resting with you.” 

“Get out of my bed!”

“Are you no longer tired?” 

“I am tired. Extremely tired, but that doesn’t mean I want you on my bed! Stay on the floor or something!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes at you and turned on his back, his arms crossed in two sets on his chest. 

“You were always particular with your sleeping habits. I see that hasn’t changed either.”

“Stop acting like you know me!”

Sukuna got off the bed to sit on the floor like you asked. The only problem is that you could feel his gaze prickling your skin, making it impossible to ignore him. You didn’t feel bad about kicking him out, he certainly didn’t have a pout on his face because of it, but something needed to be done. 

“Face the door instead of me,” you mumbled. 

His eyes twitched. “Commanding me like footmen,” he grumbled, yet he still turned away. You wondered if his obedience had something to do with the book. Sukuna had the aura of someone who doesn’t listen to anyone, yet he’s been more than understanding with you. Maybe you really were his wife. Maybe you were having a very elaborate and maladaptive daydream. You thought of “maybe’s” until the sun came up, still staring at the back of his pink, spiky hair. 

Your alarm chirped for you to get ready for work. You groaned. You didn’t get a second of sleep. You were too afraid of being eaten by the demon you accidentally summoned. You reached out to shut off the ringing clock as quietly as you could, but Sukuna touched it first. 

“How strange,” he said, turning the clock around in his hand. He brought it up to his ear, shook his head, tapped the glass. Then he crushed it. It was made of plastic, but the shards bent and broke to the floor left his hand unscratched. You gaped at the mess he made as he let the remains fall to the floor. “It was making a wretched sound.”

“Yeah…” you sighed. “It was pretty noisy.”

You had to find out how to get rid of him. Fast. 

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[yardsards]

"i don't ship laios and marcille-" oh yeah same, their relationship is so much more compelling to me viewed through a platonic lens than a romantic one

"-like, marcille clearly hates laios" are we reading/watching the same series??? did you just stop after the first couple chapters??? look at their relationship development, that's her friend! her bestie, even!!!

[sparrowlucero]

do you actually dislike the bird abode or just the creature designs? not saying the name directly so your ass doesn't get blasted by the tag

I like a lot of the creatures in it; the showrunner is a really fantastic horror artist and it really comes through in the aesthetics of the show. I especially like this hand dragon, though there's a lot of other great designs:

As for the show on the whole, it's not bad but not really for me? Early on it really feels like it's schtick will be that it's a subversion of harry potter-esque stories, where the protagonist wants to go on an adventure similar to her favorite fantasy book but instead ends up hanging out with the "villain" (who's actually just othered)/the magic school turns out to be secretly oppressive/the world is kind of gross and spooky instead of clean and approachable... but as it goes along I think it ends up being a pretty by the books YA fantasy thing played mostly straight, and it isn't super interesting or funny or scary or anything besides that. Which admittedly was probably to its benefit, I think a lot of its popularity comes from it being this very tropeish and not-uncomfortable magic school/found family story that's actually queer, like I genuinely think this is hugely appealing to the average cartoon fan on twitter, but I'm just not personally into it in comparison to a lot of it's contemporaries

[zorrasucia]

what i need

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Roommate Reader, Smut, Porn with a little plot, S1 Richie Shenanigans, Viagra (Sex Pollen vibes), Masturbation, Tiny bit of Voyeurism, P in V Sex, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

"You do know you could literally go to prison for this?" you said in the most threatening tone you could muster. "Well, no, I'm not a fucking lawyer but that's not the point... You know what, I have to see if Carmy is alright, I'll deal with your bullshit later."

You hung up on Richie, exhausted.

It had been a crazy half an hour.

You had gotten home and found Carmy making himself a PB and J sandwich. When he watched you come in, without a word, he grabbed another plate to make you one. You climbed on the counter and watched him work in comfortable silence, enjoying the fact that he was back from work early. Everything was normal, good even, until he suddenly got red in the face and then pale, he excused himself and locked the bathroom door. He had stayed there for fifteen minutes, the sandwiches half finished on the counter.

You knocked on the door with worry.

"Carmy, you okay?"

"Not really. I don't feel well."

"Is it the flu?" you remembered him mentioning that a couple of chefs had called in sick a few days ago.

"I think it's this," Carmy said.

He opened the door an inch and handed you a bottle of the prescribed antidepressants he had started taking a few months ago. A quick Google search showed you the pill shape was slightly off.

"You refilled this recently?"

"Yesterday."

Your hands started shaking nervously.

"Fuck. I think they gave you the wrong meds, Carm."

You frantically called Nat but she didn't answer. Then you called Richie, who didn't seem worried at all.

"It was a prank, okay? He was getting on my nerves - everybody's nerves to be honest."

"What the fuck did you change his pills for?" you asked, furious. "Do I need to call an ambulance?"

"Relax, he'll be fine," he said. "It's some off brand Viagra shit I found on the internet."

You rolled your eyes. "Very mature of you."

"It'll turn him down a notch. Maybe he'll even get some," Richie added with a laugh.

"Fuck you. You know how hard it was to convince him to take meds for his depression in the first place?" you spat.

"Like pulling teeth, I imagine."

It had taken you, Nat, Sydney, and his psychiatrist weeks to talk him into it.

"Exactly. Fuck you."

After you ripped Richie a new one, you walked to the bathroom and knocked gently.

"So... Richie says it should pass in a couple of hours, Carm. Are you okay? Are you in pain or something?"

"I'm fine," he said, his voice strained.

You leaned against the door, wringing your hands. "I could call someone. If you want."

"Someone?"

Now was not the time to think about your budding crush on Carmy, it was about helping him.

"A girlfriend. Or boyfriend. A, uh, trusted escort. I don't know," you covered your face embarrassed.

Carmy let out a chuckle. "No. I don't have anyone like that."

"Want me to leave? Give you some privacy to deal with it?"

"No! I mean... It's fucking late, and this is your place too..."

"Well, you could at least go to your bedroom. I know what's going on, there's no need to be embarrassed, Carm."

"Okay. Just, uh, don't look please."

"Okay."

You turned around, resolutely looking at the wall. Then, you heard him walk briskly to his bedroom and slam the door shut.

Half an hour passed and despite your best efforts you were still worried sick about Carmy. You had fallen down a rabbit hole while researching for side effects of counterfeit Viagra. You texted him.

feeling any better? not really but not worse? no ok ok. let me know if there's anything i can do ...

The three dots flashed insistently for a few moments like he was writing something then deleting it all, over and over.

i'm ok. don't worry

You finished making the sandwiches and grabbed yours, eating in silence, tired. Then, you got ready for bed, going through your routine and trying to be normal about this whole thing.

Intellectually knowing Carmy had a cock and actively knowing about his out of control, hour-long erection were two very different things. Especially with your own complicated feelings about him. It took everything in you not to ogle him daily with his tight t-shirts and his pretty hair, with his tattoos and his blue eyes. It took everything in you not to zone out looking at his calloused hands wondering how they would feel on your skin. You knew that his life was The Beef, keeping that thing afloat, that was the whole reason he had reluctantly decided to get a roommate. Still you couldn't help but wonder...

You weren't trying to spy on him but your bedrooms shared a wall and he wasn't exactly being discreet. You could hear him groan and whine, muffled by the wall and his hand or maybe his forearm... The sight that thought conjured was delicious and sinful: Carmy with no shirt on, jeans half undone, skin sweaty, one hand on his cock and the other on his mouth to keep quiet while he touched himself. What if he was making those noises for you instead, because you were making him feel that good? The thought made you warm all over, your thighs brushing against each other absentmindedly. Carmy's sounds grew a little louder and more desperate until you couldn't stop your hand from going inside your underwear to relieve some of that pent up tension, your fingers unconsciously following the rhythm of his groans, getting quicker.

In any other circumstances, you would have been more careful, more quiet, but you could hear him so clearly - really, how could he hear anything other than his own ragged breaths? You couldn't help the moan that burst from your throat and sounded across the room.

Immediately, Carmy went quiet.

You could feel your blood rushing to your face, mortified that he had heard you. He probably thought you were a pervert or that you were making fun of him. You waited in expectant silence for a little while until you couldn't bear it anymore.

You got up and walked to his door and knocked.

"Carm?"

He didn’t respond. You would have actually preferred that he berated you for not respecting his privacy than getting the silent treatment. Fuck.

"Carmy? I'm sorry... I wasn't making fun of you or anything. I'm just stupid and horny, and I have this stupid big crush on you. I know that's not an excuse-"

You were interrupted by him cracking the door open, just enough that you could see one of his eyes and a portion of his nose.

"What did you say?"

"That I'm horny and stupid," you repeated apologetically.

"No, the other bit," he said, his voice soft.

"That I have a crush on you?"

"Yeah, that bit," he cleared his throat. "Is that true?"

"Yeah," you said quietly.

He nodded, taking a moment to process. "I, uh, I like you. A lot," he emphasized. "I didn't realize how much until today, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, that I got hard just from watching you sitting on the counter," he said plainly.

"But that's the- No, that's because of what Richie gave you, right?" you reasoned.

"Doesn't work like that," he shook his head. "The guy needs to be, uh, excited for anything to happen. I took that thing while I was still at work."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

You stood awkwardly, biting your lip.

"What's exciting about me sitting on the counter?" you asked finally.

Carmy chuckled. "That's your question?"

"Yeah."

"The way your thighs look, I guess. And I imagined what it would be like to fuck you there," he said, and then as if realizing he was being crass he added: "Sorry."

"No, don't be," you shook your head. "It would be very hypocritical of me to get upset about that when I've imagined you fucking me in the bathroom."

"In front of the mirror?" he asked with the hint of a smile.

"Obviously," you grinned. After a moment of semi-comfortable silence you asked: "Do you still need help with your, uh, situation?"

He blushed. "It's pretty bad."

"Let me try?"

"Alright."

Carmy moved from the door, letting you walk inside and see him. He was shirtless, like you had imagined, though his cock had been stuffed inside his jeans to answer the door. You walked a few steps until he was right in front of you, you cupped his face gently and kissed him. He melted into it, tilting his head and bringing you close, letting you set the pace but showing how eager he was. You buried your hands in his curls, messy from a whole day in the kitchen and half an hour of lying in bed desperately trying to cum.

You removed his jeans, slow, giving gentle caresses to his cock.

"Fuck," Carmy whined into your mouth.

"Sensitive?"

"Like a fucking live wire," he said.

"Let's make the most of it, yeah?"

Carmy nodded eagerly, helping you out of the sweatshirt you wore to bed.

"Knew you didn't wear a bra under this," he rasped.

"I hoped you'd notice," you admitted, stepping out of your shorts, the two of you finally naked. "Wanted you to see."

"I did. I do."

You traced figures on his chest and arms with your fingernail, following the lines of ink; he held you by the waist, his thumbs ghosting the side of your breasts.

"What do you like?" you asked.

"Hmm?"

"In bed. What do you like?"

"I don't fucking know, to be honest. I’ve only ever had quickies in the bathroom of a restaurant and shit like that," he mumbled.

"Blowing off steam."

"Exactly, yeah."

"We could do that," you offered, "that feels kind of urgent," you gestured at his cock, leaking precum.

"I don't want that," Carmy mumbled. "Want to enjoy this."

"Okay," you agreed, a little selfishly, biting your lip.

You pushed him gently towards the bed, until he was sitting. He opened his legs to bring you closer, burying his face between your breasts, kneading your ass.

"This is still supposed to be about you," you protested, your voice was high and needy as he started sucking on your nipples.

"Yeah, exactly..." he nodded, his nose tracing subtle patterns on your sternum as he kissed your skin. You hummed in delight, massaging his scalp and the back of his neck. "I've been thinking about this for weeks - about how soft your skin must be here," he kissed the swell of your breast, "what it would taste like," and he licked your nipple.

"Fuck..." you were overwhelmed with want, goosebumps covering your skin. "Anything else you've been thinking about?" you asked - half of you wanted to keep on being worshipped slowly and the other half wanted to be fucked thoroughly as soon as possible.

"Mmm..." Carmy's exhale tickled you in the best way. "I've been thinking about the sounds you'd make."

"I gave you a preview, I think," you said, blushing again.

"I want the whole thing," he rasped, manhandling you to straddle his lap, leaving his hard cock well within your reach.

"I've been thinking about how you sound too," you said, your hand holding his length loosely.

"Fuck. Don't tease. You'll kill me," he groaned, low, deep from his chest.

"Condoms?" you prompted, getting up.

"Bedside table, second drawer."

You returned quickly.

"You sure?" he confirmed before opening the wrapper.

"So fucking sure," you replied, leaning to kiss him hard, all tongue and lust, swaying back onto his lap. "I need it."

"It?" he arched an eyebrow, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock, spreading arousal all over your pussy.

"You," your voice was breathy. "Need you."

And you lowered yourself on him, slow, gasping when you bottomed out.

"You okay?" he asked, breathing hard but staying perfectly still underneath you.

"Yeah, give me a second."

You squeezed your eyes shut and swayed your hips lightly.

"Should have prepped you," he apologized, kissing the side of your face.

And you relished the thought, his calloused fingers curling inside you, making you writhe impatiently... Would he suck his fingers afterwards and taste you?

"Next time," you said, the thought made your stomach flutter.

With your knees on the mattress and your hands on Carmy's shoulders, you started riding him, bouncing on his cock, feeling how snug he fit inside you. His head was thrown back, his throaty groans made you shiver with pleasure.

"Fuck," he cursed.

"Good?" you asked.

"So fucking good, so fucking good," he managed, his lips touching your skin. You ate up his praise, his hard exhales on your shoulder, his groans with each downward stroke, his hoarse voice as he said: "Making me feel so good, you have no idea, I'm losing my fucking mind..."

And all you could do was just moan and whimper, louder now that you knew how much he wanted to hear it.

"Sound so nice," he growled.

You could feel the tension building between you, your thighs trembling and unable to keep the pace much longer.

"That's it. Fuck," he growled, talking you through your peak. "I can feel it. Jesus..."

"Carmy..."

You moaned his name, your hips stuttering and then stopping. You melted in his arms and he held you upright. When you regained your senses you realized he was still rock hard inside you.

"What the fuck?" you slurred. "Nothing?"

He shook his head and leaned to kiss your cheek, your jaw, your neck... "Would you- is it okay if we go again?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, running your hands through his hair. Then, after a moment too long of him staring at you in wonder you said: "Please."

"What do you want?" his voice was still that gravelly sound that gave you butterflies.

"Anything, you can do anything you want to me."

"Fuck..."

He grabbed you and, like you weighed nothing, moved you to lie on the bed exactly how he wanted: legs wide open and a pillow underneath your hips. He caged you with his arms and you caressed them.

"So strong," you blurted in your fucked out state.

He leaned in to kiss you hard, hungry, desperate. His cock rubbed the outside of your pussy, making you moan into his mouth. It was dirty and urgent and you couldn't get enough of it. You spread your legs wider still and held him tight, squeezing the muscles of his back.

"I'm gonna go harder," he warned you. "Tell me if it's too much?"

You nodded, eyes half lidded. "I want that. I want it hard," you heard yourself say.

After how loving he had been you were curious about how it would feel when he let go, how those quickies in the bathroom were like. And he seemed desperate to cum.

"Shit, okay," he mumbled, maneuvering one of your thighs over his hip, burying his cock inside you in one swift motion. You let out a soft moan, your fingernails digging into his skin as he gave you one forceful thrust. You rolled your eyes, that first hit making you see stars.

"Fuck."

At first, he seemed focused on how deep he could go, on making you feel every inch inside of you, a sharp movement punctuating every thrust - hard enough to shake the mattress underneath you.

You looked downward, at his cock going in and out torturously slow, the way his abs flexed, the hair on his lower stomach...

"Fuck. Carmy. Oh, my God," you whined needily.

"Okay?" he asked, panting, keeping that rhythm steady.

"So okay," your voice was barely a whisper but he was close enough to hear it. "Keep going."

He nodded. His hips moved with the same force but faster now. You had to squeeze your eyes shut, it was all too much, too good. Whimpers we're leaving your lips with every movement, you couldn't tell if the bed was squeaking or if it was you losing control. Maybe it was both.

"Think I'm coming again," you said, almost apologetically. "Fuck me through it. I can take it."

"You can't say shit like that," Carmy growled, his exhale tickling your lips.

"Ah! I can say whatever the fuck I want," you sassed, trying to delay your peak even as you felt yourself flutter around Carmy's cock. "I can't. Fuck."

He obeyed you and kept going as you cried and cursed, legs shaking around his waist, tears falling from the corners of your eyes. You grew even more pliant under him, pathetic little sounds leaving your lips as you saw white, feeling warm all over.

"I have never- Fuck. So good, so good," you babbled nonsense, as the pleasure turned into numbness then pleasure again.

Carmy was breathing hard on top of you, his golden chain dangling invitingly. Without really knowing why, you took it between your lips and tugged on it.

"Holy shit," he groaned, his cock twitching inside of you.

You let go of his chain to ask: "Getting close? What do you need, baby?"

"Talk me through it, please," he begged. And you moved to caress the nape of his neck comfortingly.

"You're making me feel so good, Carm. I have thought about this, fingered myself thinking of you like this," he whimpered and you smiled sympathetically - he needed this. "You feel so perfect inside me, so good. Fuck."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want to do so many things with you. I want your fingers inside my pussy. I want you to fuck me on the counter and in the bathroom. I want to sit on your face," you kept going, watching his eyes widen as you did.

"Fuck. Shit. Yes," he said, voice high, eyes rolled back, his cock twitched again and you gasped.

"Be good and cum for me, Carm," you caressed the side of his face. "Be a good boy and cum for me."

"Jesus fucking Christ. Fuuuuuck," he groaned loud, a few erratic thrusts making you curl your toes with pleasure. Then he collapsed on top of you. He was heavy and sweaty, breathing hard - completely perfect. You wanted to stay there forever, his cock softening inside you, your hand caressing his hair.

"Fuck, give me a minute - I'm crushing you," he slurred into the skin of your neck.

"Shhh," you soothed. "You're okay."

He exhaled, truly relaxed for the first time since you met him. He kissed your skin, a path down to your shoulder and he finally got up, rolling to his side, face squished against the pillow.

"Fuck. I'm sorry about all this," he said, eyes soft and tired. "I never wanted you to feel obligated-"

"No," you shook your head emphatically and reached for his wrist. "If anything I feel like I kind of forced you to-"

"I didn't want anyone else," he interrupted you.

You leaned to kiss him, tenderly this time.

"Then, you don't have to apologize," you said. "I meant it - about wanting to do all of it even before this."

Carmy smiled sweetly. "Can I thank you then?"

"Yes," you giggled.

He sat up, exhausted as he was, and knelt between your legs. Carefully, he caressed your sensitive pussy. You whined at the feeling.

"Too much?" he asked, his forehead wrinkled with worry.

"Just a little," you probably wouldn't be able to walk upright to the bathroom but you were fine, more than fine. "Don't do anything crazy. We can save that for later," you added shyly.

"Don't worry. I'll be careful," he said.

He leaned in and pressed one single kiss to your pussy, soaked in your release - the gentle feeling made you shiver.

"Thank you," he said, his blue eyes piercing yours.

You reached for his face, caressing his cheek. "You're very welcome, Carmy."

[r26yz]

You are the wind at my back and the sword at my side

[1driedpersimmon]

Haha surely this will end well

[m1ckeyb3rry]

i was struck by a vision of them being besties…in another arc/life maybe 😓💔

[pipkrakes]

unintentional love story: im from a manga webtoon! have some slapstick comedy. hot guy kabedon! melodrama! everyone seems to be gay? cheesy fun! dead fish kiss! a ring! wink wink there's an idol tee hee happily ever after~~

the time of fever: i'm straight out of your traumatic queer teen memories. everything's bathed in golden light. homophobia is hanging over you everywhere and it's in your house and it's in you. here's a scene about the intersection of desire fear euphoria horror when u make out with a friend and It Means Something. they're looking straight down the camera and no one winks. sometimes someone moves away and that's how it is. you will fuckin CRY

[choccy-milky]

clora with @lamieboo's dahlia💛🩵 i had to draw them together as soon as i saw dahlia was yellow and blue, bc their colour schemes are kinda the same, just inverted (and u all know how i love my opposites LMAO)

[afurtivecake]

illegal cage-fighter jean moreau x mob-wife kevin day

[chinzhilla]

𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶-𝔒𝔫𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔬𝔣 ℌ𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔯 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺

You think we're actually gonna see some ghosts this time? Oh yeah. Hundreds of them. I'm sure. Wow, maybe try to sound a little less skeptical. I mean, it would be great, but if we don't, then, y'know, whatever. We just wanna make sure we can get some good scares.

Grave Encounters (2011) dir. Colin Minihan, Stuart Ortiz

[vigilskept]

Throwing my hat into the elves and culture discussion, I think one of the things that I find most... upsetting is _what_ Bioware took from Judaism to make their elves. Which is to say, not a lot. What they took was Jewish history - ghettos, diaspora, and blood libel. The bad parts. Stuff about our oppression. Not stuff from Judaism as a religion or Jews as a culture. We don't get to see elves celebrate any cognates to Jewish holidays. There's no equivalent of kashrut or Yiddish or Ladino (despite that not making sense with the Dales being around for four centuries). The two most defining features of Dragon Age elves, the vallaslin and the Evanuris, directly contradict Jewish teachings. Jews started writing down our history and laws as soon as we lost our homeland and independence to Babylon, but it's written into the fabric of Dragon Age that the elves didn't, and their story is one of obtaining a lost past, not preserving a remembered one. It's even indicated that the city elves largely worship the Maker.

In thoughtful hands this could be a story about how Jews are seen as a religion when it's convenient to oppress us one way and a race when it's convenient to oppress us another, but it's not. Instead the impression I am left with is that in the mind of Dragon Age, Jews are defined solely by our oppression.

thank you for sharing!!!!

this came up earlier when an anon asked about making an elven oc from a (marginalised) cultural context they themselves aren’t from and i think it always comes down to a question of whether oppression and suffering are the only things you’re interested in or whether you care enough to learn about community, family and joy. and bioware seems to fail to clear this bar every time it comes to the elves.

i truly think some of the most incredible work in this fandom has come from fans putting those things back into the setting.

[zorosdimples]

being childhood friends with yuuji…

your parents are close and you’re both the same age, so you grow up attached at the hip. you do everything together: learn how to tie your shoes, ride the school bus, take swimming lessons, attend birthday parties.

it isn’t until high school that you start drifting apart. yuuji is gifted at sports and you’re neck deep in college prep; you care for one another still, but you don’t have time to hang out. you’re both too busy and usually forego any get-togethers that your parents have.

the last time you see yuuji for many years is before you go to college. you attend separate schools: he gets a sports scholarship, you get an academic scholarship. you both have fond memories of one another, but things aren’t how they used to be.

it isn’t until after you graduate college and start the soul-sucking corporate grind that you see your childhood best friend again. you’re visiting your parents one weekend and a surprise guest shows up: yuuji.

the boy you once knew is now a man. he grew into his too-large feet, it seems: he’s tall and broad and undeniably strong. his skin looks sunkissed—did he always have those freckles across the bridge of his nose? and his eyes are rich and smooth, an overflowing spoonful of honey.

the smile that graces his lips is devastating when his gaze meets yours. you swear the butterflies in your stomach will lift you off of the floor. you wonder what you look like from his perspective. is he disappointed?

the hug that yuuji gives you is imbued with the love he has felt for as long as he can remember; it’s the love that scared him as a boy, the love he tried to shake in college, the love that he’s now determined to hold onto—if you’ll have him.

[kdramaxoxo]

Sure it's wild that Marry My Husband and Perfect Marriage Revenge have almost the exact same set up, but the vibes are waaaaaay different.

[heartbreakincident]

worst thing ever is when i get a Seasonal Idea. what do you mean i have to write this and finish it on time or wait an entire fucking year to post it.

[mintjeru]

it probably wasn't the smartest decision to start an ongoing 1000+ chapter webnovel when i know it'll consume my every waking thought but here we are

open for better quality | no reposts