#so Just lets fuck aroud

[rightous-int]

He's fighting his demons but his demos are just his own neurodivergent ass

[crunchycrystals]

i think ive mentioned this before but like i cannot stress enough how fucked up i think it is that i started dissociating at such a young age and continued that for months and never realized

[smuttyazrael]

Can you maybe do a smut where sirius is fucking female reader in his padfoot form while readers brother james is hilding her open and licker her up and maybe also fucking her while sirius fucks james as padfoot or in human form? Only if your comfortable

Loving Jamie

Word count: 885

Summary: James's sister loves her brother James. James wants to share that with Sirius.

Warnings: Sexual intercourse, fingering, beastiality (sorta, I don't really classify it as personally because its still a human with human thoughts even if he turns into a dog.) anal, oral, threesome, incest.

"Jamie!" You yell getting home from hanging out with your friends. Both of you are home from Hogwarts. Mom and dad are at work. Last you saw Sirius was over as well.

You run up the stairs calling his name. Your short black skirt bouncing as you go. Your tits are bouncing around your red crop top.

"In here, Y/N" you hear your brother James yells from what sounds like his room. You walk to his room and walk in. You see him sitting on his bed reading and a black dog lying on the bed napping.

"Jamie! How was your day?" You squeal bouncing on to his bed waking the dog. "Sorry puppy." You pet the dog beside you.

"It was calm. Sirius and I planned some pranks for back at Hogwarts then we talked about when Remus and Peter get here. Remus will be coming for the full moon. So you need to be good." James tells you.

"I will be. I hope Remus will be okay for the full moon." You say with a frown on your face.

"He will be, princess." James replies while getting up.

"Where you going?" You ask concerned.

"Gotta pee." James turns to tell you as he's walking out the door.

Slowly the dog starts nudging you. You can feel its cold nose press against your belly. You laugh rolling onto your back. He walks aroud the bed sniffing you will you giggling at the snorts and sniffle noises he is making.

He reaches your pussy and bats his nose against you clit. You moan. "Puppy. Silly puppy." You say patting his head thats in between your legs.

The dog shoves his nose into your pussy. You let out a gasp. The dog starts licking your pussy and this causes his nose to rub your clit. You grab on to the sheets moaning loudly.

"Puppy. You can't do that." You gasp out between moans. The dog just keeps licking and you get slick with your juice. The dog licks faster rubbing your clit faster causing you to moan louder.

"Getting your pussy licked, Princess." You hear James say. "Does it feel good?" He comes and whispers in your ear. He pulls your top above your tits and rolls your nipples in between his fingers.

"Yeah, Jamie. It feels so good." You moan out. "I'm gonna cum, puppy!" You yell out your pussy tightening over air. You feel empty as you cum squirting your juice for the puppy to lick up.

The puppy licks it up happily. James leans over kissing you. "Jamie, I need more." You beg him as he pulls away.

"You want more. Greedy little princess." James says pulling away.

He pulls his pants off. His hard cock hiting his abs with a thwack. He pushes himself in between the puppy and you. He rubs his cock around your pussy gathering you slick. He then thrusts into you. You and him both groan out. The puppy behind James. He groans out.

"Lick my balls." He says. You give him a confused look as he thrusts into you. "Puppy is licking my ass."

He suddenly moans out and you see the puppy above James's shoulders. You look down and see James's cock thrusting in and out of you and puppy's cock thrusting in and out of James. You moan. All of a sudden you see Sirius on top of James. You jump in shock. James moans as he sinks deeper into your cunt.

"Fuck James. You feel amazing." Sirius says thrusting in and out of James. "Play with her clit."

James reaches down flicking your little bean and sucking on your tit. Your nipple rolling between his teeth. He switches sides. Causing you to clamp down on him cumming hard with a scream. He yells out cumming deep into you coating your walls in his cum. Sirius groan cumming with him, into James's hole.

Sirius and James roll off of you. James pulling out of you. You whimper missing the feeling. "You want Sirius's cock baby girl?" James asks panting beside you looking into your eyes. You nod.

Sirius climbs over James and flips you over. He lifts your butt so it is in the air and thrusts into you in one hard thrust with his wet cock. He pounds you into the mattress. Your tits bouncing with every thrust. Your clawing the mattress moaning like an animal. He reaches down and rubs your clit. You feel the coil in your belly tighten. Your moans become a higher pitch. Sirius just smirks at James. You cum clamping down on him milking him as he cums. He groans and pulls out after. He rolls off of you into the spot James just vacated.

"How was that princess?" Sirius asks you while panting still.

"Thank you Siri." You say cuddling up to his chest. Not having anymore energy. He wraps his arms around you.

"Lets all get some sleep we need it." James tells you all.

You just nod against Sirius's chest. Closing your eyes and falling asleep almost instantly with Sirius's and James's cum dripping out of your pussy. Sirius rolls you two over so he is spooning you. He plays with your tits as you sleep, helping him calm down enough to fall asleep as well.

[tteokdoroki]

your profile gives me this idea of like, you go out with bakugou and friends and you're joking aroud as you usually do with them but he gets mad jealous becoz our boy is hella possessive and when they go to dance he grabs your face is his veiny hand because MAN HIS ARM IS VEINY😮‍💨and just whispers into your ear that your not being his good girl so when you return home he fucks you while keeping your face in his hand 🥺😫😫😫

RAAAAH !!!! i love possessive bakugou?? like just imagine him cupping your throat in public when you misbehave and giving it a gentle squeeze. “y’gonna be good for me baby, or you gonna keep bein’ a fuckin’ brat, hah?” cause he’s pissed off but wants to remind you of his presence and who’s in charge around here.

he’ll like give you a little kiss on the lips, squish your cheeks together before letting you go and sending you back into the party with a firm pat to the bum. katsuki is definitely gonna keep an eye on you for the rest of the night — making sure you’re not trying to get him all jealous, scowling when you grind all up on his friends because he warned you not to act up in front of everyone, or there’d be consequences.

by the end of the night you’re pinned underneath bakugou, split open on his fat cock as it dribbles inside of you, smearing his thick precum up and down your sensitive walls because he’s made you cum so many times you can’t even see straight.

“didn’t i tell you? didn’t i say what was gonna happen if ya kept that shit up?” oh god, he’d sound so fucking angry — fucking you from behind like he hates you, droplets of his sweat that beads on his forehead landing on the centre of your back. but katsuki holds your face in his hands like you’re a priceless gem. he uses one hand to push you into an arch, bowing you on his sloppy dick while the other grasps at your cheeks softly so that you’re forced to look back at him. all teary eyed ‘n shit.

he’ll mock your pout, cock his head down at you in faux disappointment all while bullying his way into your guts — determined to make it wet and nasty, make you feel it. make you smell the sex in the air as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you as punishment. “you know i like it when you’re good f’me, sweetheart,” one minute you’re full and the next bakugou is slowly pulling out of the soppy mess between your thighs, shuddering at how your sex auctions around him with a gooey ring of white. “why can’t you listen? why can’t you be my good fuckin’ baby when i love you so much.”

you don’t have a chance to respond, because katsuki’s the throwing all of his weight onto you again, thrusting into you so hard that you jerk up the bed and your eyes roll back into the heavens <3

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[abiiors]

truth or dare 🌙 // george daniel x reader

a/n: this is based on a few requests and also loosely a sequel to first time and midnight, car lights. so the ages are 18 and 20! i tried to make this as realistic as possible so it's not perhaps the hottest thing ever but it's weirdly sweet haha

cw: brother's best friend, loss of virginity, smut in general, fingering. they talk :)) so much :)), the use of "good girl", female reader

wc: 6.3k

the room is buzzing with energy. loud and boisterous sounds of people having fun and whooping along to a silly game of truth or dare. matty already has his tongue down someone’s throat—as a “dare” of course. you cringe internally. 

it’s one thing to sit and play a game of truth or dare with your brother’s friends and potentially spill embarrassing secrets, it’s another to sit there and watch your brother practically dry hump some girl you’ve never seen before. 

and then there’s andrew who keeps looking at you like he wants them to do the same. 

you stifle the urge to retch. 

“alright, alright,” ross puts his hands up, “we get it, let’s move on.”

matty and the girl pull away amidst boyish whoops and giggles. the girl hides her mouth behind her hand, coy and flirty, and matty, ever the little shit, throws her a wink. 

“okay, okay, right. good luck to whoever who has to sleep near matty’s bedroom tonight,” one of the people jokes and another roar of laughter goes up. great, yeah, fucking hilarious. because once again, that would be you. 

“next up!” andrew picks up the bottle, wiggling it at the crowd of people and building up excitement. 

it spins and spins and spins in dizzying circles and for a moment you wonder if it will ever stop or slow down. it’s a silly thought. of course, the bottle slows dows, going past you once before losing some more momentum, then past you again and you breathe a sigh of relief. not you…

until somehow, the bottle gets second wind, spinning way past what it should have been able to, its nozzle coming closer and closer and closer before it stops right on you. 

when the next cheer goes up, it sounds like it’s coming from under water. 

you look aroud at the faces of the people gathered. the growing sense of dread climbs up your spine, manifests in visible goosebumps that you resist rubbing away. fuck this, fuck your brother and fuck his friends. 

matty is utterly useless when you glance at him for any kind of help. all he does is grin mischievously, clearly relishing the idea of you being at the center of attention. next to him, george sits with an unreadable expression. but you know looking at him is not a good idea…

looking at him only makes you think about the kiss and how you have not spoken since…

andrew, who had spun the bottle, wears a sly smile, his eyes still fixed on you. you know him well enough to understand that he's been angling for this moment. the rest of your brother's friends exchange knowing glances, anticipating some juicy revelation or an embarrassing dare;.

ross, trying to keep the game moving, speaks up, "alright, truth or dare?"

you briefly consider choosing dare, thinking you might be able to dodge a potentially embarrassing truth. but you know these guys��they're relentless when it comes to dares, especially when it's your turn. besides, you don't give a shit if you appear cowardly in front of them.

taking a deep breath, you muster some courage. "truth."

a couple boos ring out. matty makes an exaggerated “pfft” and goes back to his makeout. george just stares at you with a raised eyebrow. 

but there’s one person in the room whose attention doesn’t waver. andrew still has that persistent look in his eyes, clearly brainstorming something devious.

“your most interesting sex story. go,” he grins, staring at you with the utmost interest. 

you roll your eyes and groan audibly. “really, andrew? couldn’t think of something original?”

“yes, really,” he counters, sounding like a fucking knobhead. “and i wanna know. the rules are the rules.”

you look around the room, trying not to panic. everyone has gone from looking bored at you picking truth to back to looking at you with wide eyes. and no amount of trying stops the heat from creeping up your neck. 

“i don’t–it’s not interesting,” you stammer out. trying to make up something on the spot. “they’ve been pretty basic. just regular stuff.”

you hope it’s enough for them to lose interest again, to call you boring and vanilla and move on to the next person. but fuck andrew and fuck his lecherous curiosity. 

“what’s ‘pretty basic’?” he pokes a tongue in his cheek, eating up the subsequent oooohs with a big smile. 

you look around the room, first at matty only to find that he and the girl are already halfway out the door, heading up to his room (gag). then you look at the next best person. 

george. stoic george with his arms crossed in front of his chest, glaring at andrew as if he could kill him with his stare alone. 

“your usual stuff, andrew…” you grit out, staring at a spot behind him. you should have just stopped this, should have told him that truth entails one question and one question only and it’s none of his business but you’ve always let matty’s friends strong arm you. 

“so describe it, little healy—”

“don’t call her that.” 

to your surprise, it’s george who speaks up before you do. his entire body vibrates with tension, jaw clenched and arms taut. 

“move on, andrew,” his voice has an edge of warning. “she clearly doesn’t want to discuss it.”

you stare at him in awe, about to nod as a silent thank you when george stares directly at you. “besides, why do you want to know something so boring and vanilla?”

the people snicker and you feel your face drop. his tone is not cruel, it’s just matter of fact which somehow hurts more. a faint buzzing fills your ears, increasing by the second. 

this is too much. you need peace and quiet and the comfort of your own room, not this stupid party with all these idiots. you should have never agreed to it. 

the bottle spins again, you do not wait to see who it lands on. instead, you do the cowardly thing of running up to your bedroom.

“the last time i checked, the game was called truth or dare,” george drawls behind you just as you’re about to open the door to your bedroom. 

you barely even wait for him, rolling your eyes to yourself and opening the door in a huff. he’s just like the rest of them—an idiot. an idiot you were stupid enough to kiss and have a crush on. 

of course, george doesn’t back away too easily. 

pushing his way into your room behind you, he closes the door, acting as if this is his space. deja vu hits you like a tonne of bricks. 

“it’s none of their business,” you retort. 

“shoulda picked dare then…”

“and what? make out with andrew? you and i both know that’s what he was hoping for.”

the serious expression on his face crumbles for a moment, replaced by an annoying little smirk. 

“character development, little healy,” he teases, once again crossing his arms in front of him and leaning against the door. 

you don’t know how you always end up like this—george in your room without anyone’s knowledge, looking like the boy of your dreams while you fume at him for one thing or the other. 

“shut up,” you mumble petulantly. 

george doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead choosing to look around him nonchalantly. all you can replay in your head is the kiss, and his stupid little smile after. and then the fact that he seemed to vanish into thin air for two weeks.

you can't help but feel a mixture of irritation and curiosity. he's always been a puzzle to you—maddeningly frustrating yet undeniably intriguing and despite your attempts to resist his charm, there's a part of you that can't help but be drawn to him.

you decide to break the tense silence that has settled between you two. "what are you even doing here, george?" you demand, your voice laced with annoyance.

frustratingly enough, he chooses to answer it with a question of his own. 

“why is sex such a touchy topic?” george toys with his bracelet, “you’re only 18. most people your age haven’t done it yet.”

“you’re joking, right?” you laugh, unable to hide your incredulity. “and what does it matter to you if i have or haven’t done it.”

“it doesn’t,” he shrugs, “not to me. but clearly it matters to you… wouldn’t have been so defensive otherwise.”

“i wasn’t defensive—”

“shup up, george,” he says in a high pitched voice, a crude imitation of you presumably. and it is nothing what you sound like. yet he continues. “i have seen photos, george, i have seen videos!” then he shakes his head, one irresistible lock of hair falling in his face. “isn’t that what you said last time? about the weed?”

“it bothers you, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” he continues when you refuse to speak. “why not ask someone. you’re a pretty girl. any boy your age would say yes.”

“so you do it then,” you challenge. it’s only when the sentence has fully slipped out, beyond your control, that you realise what you just said. it’s only then that your heart starts hammering in your chest.

your back is pressed against the wall of your room. faint music and chatter slips in through the cracks of the door and yet you swear you can hear the loud beat of your heat echoing all around the room. george stills in place. 

“i’m asking you; since you think i have such a problem with being a virgin,” you continue. no point backing out now, no point pretending you didn’t offer to let him fuck you. for the first time. “it’s long overdue anyway. i don’t want candles and flowers and a picnic under the stars. i just want to get it over with.”

“don’t say things you don’t mean, little healy.” his voice has gone hoarse as if it strains him to speak normally. you watch as he swallows roughly, the hollow of his throat becomes prominent for a brief moment and you wonder what it would feel like to get a taste of his skin. 

“who says i didn’t mean it,” you push yourself off the wall, taking one daring step closer. george stays where he is, still looking at you intently, still watching. his lips part as he tries to subtly take in a shaky breath. 

“your brother—”

“doesn’t care,” you finish for him. “someone else has his attention tonight.”

“this is so wrong…”

“why?” 

george scrutinises you, rolling his tongue in his mouth. you follow the line of it, wondering how it would feel in your mouth—its weight and its texture. how it would feel on your body, to be touched like that for the first time. 

“why is it wrong, george? i am old enough. i want this, i am consenting to it.” george stands straighter as you stop right in front of him. 

to an untrained eye, he looks casual and cool as always, effortlessly carrying all 6’4 inches of him, effortlessly beautiful and irresistible. but the vein standing taut on his arm says otherwise. he’s anything but cool and casual. if anything, he’s as charged as a live wire. 

“unless you don’t… unless that’s not something…”

“stop.”

it’s your turn to freeze and gawk up at him wordlessly. george closes the gap between you, stepping towards you until you’re back in your original place; against the wall with his hand resting next to your head. his mouth is so close as he leans down—pink and full and just…filthy. 

“you have no idea… you don’t–fuck. okay.” he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily. his face is a mask of something. almost something you recognise. but it passes just as quickly as it appears. 

“you have never done this before, any of it, have you? you couldn’t even look people in the eye while saying it, bushing and flustered like a schoolgirl.”

“i have!” you burst out, indignant and angry now. “i have done…things. i have kissed and made out with people, i have…people have seen me without a top on.”

george laughs roughly at that and swallows again. the hollow of his throat appears again, right there, tauntingly close. all you have to do is get on your tip toes and you’ll be kissing it. but then there’s the way his other arm snakes around your waist. 

you are pressed flush against the wall with barely an inch between the two of you. and even though he still hasn’t touched you, if anyone walked in on you in this position…

“so you haven’t done shit. tell me something…have you ever been touched like you touch yourself? have you ever had an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced? someone ever go down on you? make you see stars and blackout?”

the questions come out like rapid fire; each one making your blood run faster and your heart pound all over your body. heat courses through you. it’s undeniable that you want him to do all those things to you, want him to be the first. 

by the time he’s finished, his mouth is parted. his pupils are so dilated that his eyes might as well be black and you can feel the warmth of his breaths on your face. so you decide to take matters into your own hands, say fuck it and pull him down, crashing your mouth onto his. 

both his hands are on your waist instantly, holding you tightly as his mouth moves against yours. it’s rough and hot, full of want. his body is pressed against yours, his hard chest and the bulge in his jeans against the softness of your body. this is so much different than the first kiss. it’s all hardness and intensity and hot searing kisses. 

you’re vaguely aware of jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his middle, vaguely aware of george moving across the room and placing you on the bed. 

george barely breaks the kiss when he takes his top off, warm skin pressed against yours. your head spins. 

this is happening. this is happening with george. with GEORGE. 

there’s a part of you that wants to run around the room and hyperventilate. another part of you—the much bigger one—decides to be bold again, copying his moments as you take your top off too, silently thanking the patron gods of teenage sex that you chose to wear a good bra. 

“you really…” he pants, struggling to catch his breath for a second. “you really want this? with me?”

your hair sticks to his jaw a you pull back slightly, just enough to be able to speak. 

“i do, i—” a rough swallow, “i want you.”

“okay then,” he leans forward again, then stops, trying to fight off the massive smile making its way onto his face. you didn’t think there would be something to find endearing in the middle of a one night stand. yet here you are, fighting a big goofy smile of your own.

“show me what you do,” george sits at the end of your bed, watching you with hooded eyes. his chest glistens with sweat—so does yours, you imagine—making his tattoos stand out in the warm light of your bedroom. “when you touch yourself, how do you do it.”

heat creeps up your cheeks at the prospect of being entirely naked and vulnerable in front of him. shyness floods your body making you avert your gaze and bite your lip nervously. not that you don’t trust him enough, but you don’t want to be ogled at so blatantly. 

“uh–um, i don’t–that’s…” it’s frustrating that you can’t even get a proper sentence out, stuttering and stammering like a fucking child but george clocks it instantly. 

“what is it?” this time his voice is gentle, curious. “is it too much? do you want to stop—”

“no! no, i just…” you keep your eyes averted building the courage to tell him exactly what you want. there’s no denying the fact that george makes you nervous; he always has but you have to remind yourself what he said—practically drilled into you—at the beginning. 

you are in control of everything. all of it. 

“i don’t want to be stared at, that–that’s too much.”

his features soften as realisation dawns on him. you wonder if you’ve put him off—sex should go both ways, after all. what’s the point if only one of you enjoys yourself? 

“right then…” silently, george moves from the foot of the bed to right next to you. 

the movement makes the bed dip and your breath quivers in anticipation the closer he comes. is he going to put a stop to it? break it to you gently that he’s not interested anymore. maybe you should have sucked it up and done what he told you to do, he’s the one with more experience after all…

“what are you…”

he settles himself right next to you, legs spread open just wide enough for—

“come here,” he instructs and pats the space in front of him. “how about you show me some other way. guide my hand, if that’s okay.”

for a moment, the idea stuns you. of course you knew what sex entailed but it’s just…it’s so much happening all at once. so much that requires being vulnerable. 

but you trust george. so you nod and do as he’s told you. 

you close your eyes once you settle yourself between his legs, fully immersing yourself in the feeling of him all around you—his cologne and cigarettes and the hint of sweat that’s somehow the most perfect combination ever. your hand is so much smaller on top of his, guiding him down starting just at your navel. his other hand is on your breasts, kneading and rolling your nipples between his fingers expertly. 

george doesn’t need you to guide him, judging by the gasps and moans that he draws out of you, you know he can make you feel good either way. but this is more for you than him, more so you would feel in control, and that adds to the thrill of it all the more. 

“does this feel good, sweetheart? is this okay?” his voice is all around you, skittering over your bones and sending a shiver down your spine. all you can do is nod and whimper. all you want to do is guide his hand further down. 

george lets you. 

the callouses on the pad of his fingers leave electric tingles in their wake as they brush your pelvis. a gasp echoes around the room, sharp and sudden. 

“that’s it,” he coaxes, “show me how you like it.”

his fingers graze the inside of your thighs and right above the waistband of your underwear, leaving goosebumps wherever they trail. 

“take these off me?” you breathe out into the stillness of your room. he takes no time in obliging—hooking a finger in them and lifting your hips off the bed to slide the delicate fabric down your thighs and past your knees until they’re discarded somewhere on the floor with the rest of your clothes. this is it, you, here, fully naked and at his mercy. 

“better?” he asks.

you nod, leaning your head back onto his collarbone. george nips at your skin, making you giggle and loosening some of the tension filling your body. his fingers hover over your clit, waiting for you to show him what you want. 

“fuck, george,” you breathe as soon as you feel his touch—it’s just the right pressure, the right pace as he circles your clit. your hand falls slack, back arching off his chest lightly as you bite your lips to stifle a loud moan. 

this is nothing like you’ve felt before, nothing like your own hands make you feel. this is like tiny fireworks right under your skin. 

“shit, that–that feels so good.”

george hums behind you, keeping up with the pace you set. his fingers dip between your folds, teasing and inching towards your opening—keeping you on edge. the sheets are bunched between your fingers, sweaty back pressed to his chest. george nibbles at your neck, right over your pulse point as his fingers play with your nipples; stimulating, sending jolts through your whole body. 

“so wet,” he breathes, peppering kisses down your shoulder. his finger circles your entrance, rough and thicker than your own, better than you’re used to. “so perfect for me.”

it’s enough for you to cry out—whine really. because you want him, need to feel him. but he’s taking his own sweet time. 

“what was that for, huh? needy little thing,” he taunts, “what do you want?”

between the words and his gruff voice, all thoughts fly out of your head for a second. he hasn’t even properly fucked you yet and your head is already starting to feel like mush. 

“you, please,” you all but beg, “want your fingers in me, please george…”

“think you’re ready to take it?”

nodding nervously, you spread your legs wider. your hand reaches back, caressing the nape of neck, scratching it in slow sensual circles. hearing him groan is enough to calm your nerves. sure, the effect you have on him is minuscule compared to what he’s doing to you, but it’s a small victory regardless. 

george falters for a brief moment, head thrown back as you feel the spike in his heartbeat. it makes your own skip a beat. but he recovers quickly, teasing your folds a bit more, finger circling your entrance.

“tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?” 

your stomach churns from a mix of anxiety and excitement—this is happening, this is really happening. george tuts when you nod on auto-pilot. 

“need you to say it, love. use your words.”

“y–yes, yes, i will.”

“good girl,” he whispers, lips pressed to the shell of your ear. 

before you even have the time to react to that, he slides a finger in, just the tip first. he goes slow, takes just enough time to gague your reaction.

it’s a strange sensation—a good sensation. his finger is noticeably thicker than yours, and longer, the pad of it scratches against your insides, making you gasp. george stops once he’s all in. 

“good?”

“fuck–yes!” 

all you need to do is give him that little nudge before he pulling the finger out again, and thrusting it in, this time faster, rougher. your insides feel like liquid, melting further and further with each graze of his callouses, with each thrust, and oh the rhythm…

you knew he would know how to set a pace but somehow he gets it right on the first try, going just slow enough to give your body time to adjust but fast enough for a familiar knot to build in your stomach. his thumb presses against your clit each time. 

“oh my god–oh god…” you can’t remember the last time you’ve chanted it so thoroughly, reciting it like a prayer and chasing your high. 

“need to add another finger, sweetheart. need to stretch you out, that okay?”

his voice makes you jolt. it’s all around you, deep and scratchy and almost a growl—teeming with lust. of course it is, you can feel his hard on pressed against the small of your back, can feel the way his heart is thumping in his chest. you can hear his audible swallows and groans each time you dig your nails into his thighs, every time you grind against him when the pleasure becomes too much. 

“mm-hmm,” you nod vigorously, “yes… need more…”

it’s frankly a surprise that you still have the ability to speak because every single part of your body feels like it’s melting, blood zapping through your body, pushing your heart into overdrive.

this time when george thrusts in, it’s with two fingers. you cry out at the sudden stretch, the burn that accompanies it. george falters when you jolt forward.

“shit–shit did i hurt you?”

hurt?? 

“no, i—” it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, and to take the whiney edge off your voice. “that felt good… better than before. keep going, please, just—”

george doesn’t let you finish, pushing his fingers inside you again. the hilt of his palm crashes against your clit, rougher than before and your body trembles from all of it.

“such a perfect girl, taking me so well.” his words add to the heady intoxication. 

your head spins, completely blanking out on anything else. all that matters right now is george and his hands and his voice. his lips latch onto your neck, sucking on your sweet spot and peppering kissing and this time the buzzing that fills your ears is nothing like before. 

now as your legs shake and spasm, you know you’re close. 

“gonna cum, george, fuck…keep going…” it’s a whine, you don’t know where it just came from but now is not the time to care about that. 

his fingers keep moving in and out, plunging into you, drawing out wet and obscene sounds until you feel them hooking inside you, without warning. when george parts his fingers inside you, stretching you more, it’s enough to push you over the edge. 

with a cry, you slump against him, gushing onto his hand, incapable of doing anything else as waves of pleasure crash onto you, blinding you almost. this has never happened before… never. not with your own hand, or the tiny white bullet in your drawer. something about his body makes your blood sing.

facing george after that feels like a daunting task. he did just witness you completely falling apart on his hand and who knows what kinds of sounds you made in the heat of the moment…

a flush creeps up your face when george turns you around.

“fuck…” he breathes, panting, his heavy breaths mixing with yours. “that was so hot, fuck!”

for a second you don’t know what to say so you sit there, trying not to nervously bite on your lip, averting his eyes. because that was just the foreplay… the main part is yet to come. 

“did you enjoy that?” he asks tentatively. another second ticks by before you feel a hand under your chin, tilting it up. 

“sweetheart…” george begins. his eyes are soft—blown out and hooded with lust, sure, but somewhere in there, there’s a tenderness you haven’t seen before. “do you want to stop? it’s alright, if that’s all you want to do tonight. i promise…”

you contemplate it. you want him, you want his closeness and you want his body and if sex feels anything like what you just felt then you absolutely can’t wait for it.

“i want to keep going,” you reply. 

this time, george leans forward, hand still on your chin, holding it in place as he goes in for a kiss. something soft and sweet. a stolen moment of leisure amidst all the burning passion and hormone filled lust. 

“are you in your head?” he asks after a minute. 

you know the answer is yes. it shouldn’t be this difficult, he has done nothing to make you feel uncomfortable. on the contrary, you have never felt so safe with another boy. 

“i think so…yeah. i just, i don’t know how to stop overthinking it.”

he contemplates it for a long time, at least it feels like a long time. you’re aware of the wetness between your legs, of the little fire in your stomach that still hasn’t gone out. you’re aware of how hard he is and yet how he hasn’t even talked about himself yet. 

“can i touch you?” 

it’s an unsure question; your voice sounds small to your ears but there’s an undertone of curiosity. his eyes widen. 

george nods, moving to take off his brief. when he’s done, george settles on his knees, now fully naked. 

your breath catches in your throat. it’s not like you haven’t seen a dick before. you’ve watched porn. the first guy who made out with you and got to third base had you feel him over his jeans. and although it was more unsettling than it was fascinating, it was a new experience. 

but watching george is a mesmerising thing. he’s not shy about his body, if anything, his bold confidence makes him hotter than any other boy you’ve ever known. 

“please.” he breathes in deeply, trying to stay still as your hand inches between his thighs. 

he’s big, at least to you he is, thick and hard. george groans loudly when you trace his length with a finger, running it along his red tip that already leaks with precum. the sound is throaty, almost a growl. so this is what a man looks like when he’s fighting to stay in control. 

his eyes are closed, a string of curses falling from his lips as you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, moving it tentatively—slow strokes from the base to his tip and back again. his body shudders, the hollow of his throat moves. 

“i’m gonna cum if you keep doing that, love.” his voice is a throaty whisper, his nails dig into the flesh of his thighs even as he so clearly struggles not to thrust his hips into your hand. 

it’s the small, impulsive movement that fills you up with some confidence. a tiny thrill of pride shoots through you, thoroughly pleased at the way his body responds to your touch. some of the tension in your body dissipates. 

“well, isn’t that the goal here? to make you cum?” 

george clicks his tongue, “not before you. tonight is about you. my pleasure is just a byproduct.”

george moves before you have the time to respond, grabbing his jeans from the foot of the bed to look for his wallet. and there, inside, as expected is a small, silver square. 

“you ready for it?” 

“yes,” you say and this time, there’s not a hint of doubt in it. “yes i am.”

george tears the foil with his teeth, spitting it out to one side and taking the condom out. you watch unabashedly as he rolls onto his dick. his fingers work deftly—practiced, sure movements; small things that make you aware once again of how inexperienced you are. 

but that’s about to change. 

his mouth is back on yours, hand back between your legs, drawing rough eight figures on your clit. you barely even registers as george lays you down on your back. all you can focus on are his fingers dipping in and out of you once again, quick and expert thrusts that have you on the edge again in no time. 

“lift your hips for me, love. just like that.” his voice is soft, his eyes are softer. there’s a tenderness to his face that you’ve never seen before; a stillness that’s gentle and comforting. 

poised on top of you, you can feel his tip brushing against your entrance. nerves flood your body as you do what he’s asked.

“george…” it surprises you how shaky your voice sounds. for all your bravado before, your mouth feels dry. “please just…go slow, please.”

he pauses for a moment and you marvel at his self-control once again. he could so easily just chase his orgasm somewhere else, fuck someone else at the party. yet here he is, pausing every two minutes to make sure you’re alright and enjoying yourself. 

he cups your face, gently running a thumb along your lower lip. 

“i will. as slow as you want.”

his hand is back between your legs, teasing and brushing against your clit, melting your moans into small bursts of ecstasy. his fingers keep moving, building up pleasure again, bringing you closer and closer to the edge until a second orgasm hits you. 

as you writhe under george, trying to ride out your high by grinding against his hand, he kisses you again, tongue licking the inside of your mouth, teeth clashing against teeth. 

“tell me if you want me to stop,” he pants. his voice is strained. you imagine he’s being pushed to his limits. 

“yes, just–just do it, i am ready.”

lining himself against your entrance, george pushes in. the first few seconds are completely normal. he moves slowly, sticking to your limits and pressing small kisses on your face. the stretch you feel is fine, exactly how it was when you were riding his fingers. a moans slips out, full of lust. and that’s when the burn starts. 

tears well up on your bottom lashline the more he pushes in. you feel too full, more than you ever have, too stretched out. 

“are you in?” your voice quivers and george pauses. 

“not yet, sweetheart. but almost.”

another nod from you and he moves again, the burn intensifies, turning your moans of pleasure into whimpers of pain until george bottoms out and stills in place. 

“you okay? does it hurt?” his voice is hushed, words coming out rapidly as he tries to make sure everything is alright. despite everything, the concern in his voice melts your heart. 

“hurts a little. can you just–just stay still for a bit?”

he nods again. george lowers his forehead, resting it onto yours. the moments stands suspended in time. by the time, the burn subsides, you’re kissing again—slow and sweet, fingers intertwined.

“okay,” you nod into the crook of his neck, “okay you can move.”

the stinging is back when he starts moving back and forth. he’s going as slow as possible, you know it, yet it takes you body a bit longer to adjust, for sparks of pleasure to come through between the pain. 

when you open your eyes, you find him already looking at you, a soft pink flush visible on his cheeks. to your surprise george averts his eyes quickly. 

“i–uh,” he stammers a little, “i’m–um, i’m not gonna last long.” the last part is whispered, like a shameful confession. “you’re really tight and–fuck! fuck, baby it feels so good…”

“george,” you interrupt before he has the chance to keep going. he thrusts in again just then, a bit harder than before. this time, the pleasure is much stronger than the pain. all thoughts fly out the window momentarily, but you cradle his face in your hands. brush your fingers on his cheek. 

“you’re already making me feel so good. shit, george, don’t apologise. just–you can go a bit harder if you want.” another gasp gets struck in your throat, another little broken moan. 

george moves faster, hips bucking, slamming into yours lightly. the friction, the stretch, all of it is better than you could have ever imagined. you couldn’t care less how long he lasts. it’s your body that makes him go crazy, you that’s currently making him losing it. that thought alone is enough to send bolts of lightning all throughout your body. 

feeling a little bold, you do the thing you’ve only watched girls in porn do. you wrap your legs around his waist and it’s like something clicks in place. suddenly he’s sliding in much deeper than he was before, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes your mind go blank and your jaw go slack. 

“fuck fuck fuck,” george curses. his pace increases. whatever control he had on himself has finally snapped, whatever leash he had kept on himself, finally gone. 

maybe your eyes roll back in pleasure, maybe your legs tighten around his waist, the only thing you remember is clenching around him, telling him over and over again how good it feels. 

“so good for me, baby, so perfect,” he coos, hand snaking down between your joined bodies. he finds your clit again, swollen and wet and so sensative, it’s like a thunderstorm just under the surface of your skin.

“gonna cum, sweetheart,” george grunts out. “cum with me, can you do that? hmm?”

you nod, or you think you do. all you remember is grinding on his pelvis and mewling when he flicks your clit. it’s the sound that gets to him, that pushes him over the edge. when his orgasm hits, you feel him twitch inside you. somewhere in the haze, a third orgasm washes over you. 

you watch him mesmerised, desperately trying to keep your eyes open, to memorise the look of pure bliss on his face as he fucks into you, riding out his orgasm, letting you ride out yours. his thrusts slow down, eventually coming to a stop. 

george doesn’t pull out instantly, instead, he collapses on top of you, breathing hard, panting into your neck. your sweaty bodies stick to each other, still locked in together. 

it takes him a minute to gather himself. a minute until he can say, “gonna pull out okay? it might hurt.”

it does a little but the tingles in your body take over and all you feel is a slight sting. 

“that was—” you start and stop again, completely at a loss for words. 

“yeah?” he laughs a little, lying next to you and pulling you into his chest. 

he’s warm and a bit sticky but this is nice, you think, the way his body envelopes yours entirely. 

“was i good?”

he hums. “you were perfect.”

the butterflies in your stomach intensify. perfect. it’s nice to hear that word. especially nice to hear it from him.

"you might be a bit sore tomorrow," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "but don't worry, sweetheart. i'll stay and take care of you."

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet

add yourself to the taglist

[the-fluff-piece]

Tropetember day 3

Short ZoSan - comfort for hurt Zoro

this is a second part to Tropetember day 1

Continues on day 11

In wich Zoro and Sanji have a tender moment of bonding CW descriptions of pain

Also visit my Masterlists for Stories and Headcanons

It had only been a few short moments, but the pain felt like an eternity. Zoro had never endured so much agony before: inescapable, all-devouring pain. Probably worse than anything else he will encounter again. He wasn't sure if his body could survive it. The pain of Luffy's whole fight, condensed into one moment. It still haunted him, the pain in his beaten and immobile body was just a soft echo compared what he had endured.

And he would do it again and again for his captain, his crew. His family. He swore to himself that he would not falter and be a burden to them, but the memory pushed forward relentlessly.

The first one to find him on the battlefield was Sanji. Never before would Zoro have thought that the sight of this unnerving, love-sick cook would be such a comfort - but it was. The comrade that fought alongside him all the time, the last one standing with him. He would never say that, but he admired and respected the man.

As Zoro lay there, keeping the memories and the pain down, he heard soft footsteps, footsteps that made the hair on his neck rise - a short moment of surprise that shot hot, searing pain through his body again.

His vision went blank and he hardly realised that his body was moved. There was only pain that made him want to pass out for good, but he held on, not giving in.

Something cold and wet moved over his face, the sensation felt cooling, distracted him from the agony. Strong arms stabilized his cramping body, propped his upper body up on something soft. It allowed him the control to let go, to push the pain to the back of his mind again.

As his vision returned slowly, Zoro only saw a swirl. He focused on it, following it's elegant arch down to a clear, blue eye, squinting at him.

"You ok?" Sanjis breathless voice asked.

"Of....of course" Zoro stammered, slowly realising what was going on. As his field of vision widened, his attention was fixed on the face of his crewmate before him. Noticing the even, light skin and noble features for what felt like the first time. Without wanting it, his mouth curl into a smile.

Sanjis eyes widened and the faintest blush crept onto his cheeks.

"Don't scare me like that again" Sanji looked away shyly. "I thought you would die now!" He continued to tap a damp cloth to Zoro's forehead cautiously.

"don't you dare going out like that." The cook's voice shook.

"I won't" Zoro said. "As long as you promise you won't either"

Sanji snorted.

"I am not as reckless as you are."

"So we have a deal" Zoro managed a lopsided grin.

No matter how annoying or how stupid he thought the cook was, the man was strong and dependable. Zoro didn't have the strenght to keep up the facade now, so instead, he gathered all his willpower to move his hand up to hold on to Sanji's arm. It lay aroud Zoro's torso, holding him in place on the cook's lap.

Zoro told himself that he only needed that kind of comfort because of his current condition, but it felt a bit too good for that.

Fuck it, he thought. I deserve this now.

He squeezed the muscles of Sanji's arm slowly, earning a gasp from the the cook as he froze completely.

I deserve this now, Zoro repeated in his head. He suddenly felt selfish and greedy, hungry for more. He closed his eyes to bathe in the first good sensation in what felt like an eternity.

Sanji's arm held him tighter, the faintest hint of a hug, Zoro interpreted it as a clear sign, turning his head to nuzzle against his companion's body. With the strain of ordeal gone for even a few moments, exhaustion crushed Zoro, sending his mind to restless dreams.

___

Sanji didn't know what to do. Here he sat, again having a big, beefy man cradled in his lap - that made his heart almost jumped out of his chest. A big, calloused hand squeezed his arm and all he could do was hold him tight in return.

He was too proud to put it into words, but it felt appealing. It felt good to provide comfort and warmth to his crewmate. Sanji couldn't be there for him when he fought, he sure as hell would be there for him now.

A soft snore told him that Zoro had fallen asleep, getting the rest he needed.

Content, he relaxed, too. The situation was far too much for him with Zoro seeing the reaction of his body. Now, he was alone with his feelings again, free to explore the intriguing swordsman with his eyes, to feel his presence. He swore to himself - only a little longer, than he would get up and go to his own bed. Just a few moments of warmth more. And one more.

__________

I fear I am not very good at stretching out moments or describing sensations, but I guess it's good to try something new once in a while. I hope you enjoyed it anyways.

The next part to this little zosan drabble will be day 10 - drunk confession

Tomorrow will come another tropetember story - this time with Smoker in a café!

taglist

@yeeeeezly @waitingmydemons @stariski @livwritesfics @violetmatcha

[aliwritex]

MORE e.r.

an: little blurb about taking edvins virginity. first time posting on tumblr, pls say something. enjoy :) masterlist

“Fuck, yn” he stopped the kiss making you move on to his neck, “I need to tell you something.”

You had just gotten home after work and convinced Edvin to stop at your place before going home. Seconds after closing the front door you had his back against it, his hands on your hips, under the leather of your coat and yours on his neck.

“Can’t you just tell me after? I really want you” you whispered against his neck, leg lifting up to meet his half hard dick, a strangled moan coming out of his mouth as you did.

“No, no, I gotta tell you now,” you pulled away from him enough to let him form a decent sentence, watching his eyes get lost trying not to meet yours “I’m a vir- fuck, I-i-i never had sex.”

You let your hands slide down from his neck to his chest, pushing his jacket off his shoulders “Really?” he nodded shyly. “Sorry, huh, do you wanna do this now or…”

“No, I do. I just thought I needed to tell you cause I don’t know what to do. Would you guide me?”

“Oh, darling, it will be my pleasure. Come on, get out of this” you helped him out of his jacket and hanged it by your door, doing the same with your coat. “Come on, i’ll help you.” he took the hand you held out and followed into your bedroom.

Edvin stopped by the door, watching your figure move in the dark till you turned your bedside lamp on. “Are you just gonna stand there?” You ask, taking off your sweater “Sit down, make yourself comfortable”

He walked over to your bed while taking off his hoodie. He shuffled on the bed, resting his back on the wall as you took off your shoes and tights. “You okay?” Edvin nodded but he seamed unquiet, playing with his hands.

You finally took off your shirt before joining him on the bed, taking place on his lap, tits fully on display for him in a push up bra.

You grabbed both his hands in yours and resting them on your hips. “Kiss me” you demanded and he quickly obeyed, your hands on his shoulders feeling his muscles relax as your lips met.

He kissed you like never before, giving and trusting himself completely to you for the first time. Your hands traveled down his back, pulling his shirt up till you had to pull away to get it past his head. He was going to attach his lips to yours again but something caught his eye. Only now had he stopped to look at what seamed to be the prettiest pair of tits he had ever encountered.

“No need to be shy, you can touch, darling” you didn’t mean to tease him but he was so oblivious. His hands reached for your covered chest, softly kneading the fat before attaching his now swollen lips to your collarbone.

You started moving your hips against his, happily taking in the small whines and grunts you received. He was deeply concentrated on your chest, having taken your boobs out of the cups, thumbs playing with your nipples as his kisses climbed up your neck to your lips.

“Edvin, darling, i’m gonna touch you now, okay?” he nodded eagerly and you took it as a green light to slide off his lap and sit up on your knees right next to him.

After a long day wearing tight trousers at work he had chosen to go comando in sweatpants, making it very easy to see the outline of his erection through the fabric. You couldn’t help the grin that formed on your lips when his hard on slapped against his lower stomach.

Edvins body trembled under your touch as you first wrapped a hand around him. You rested a hand on his thigh and kissed him, once again feeling him relax under your touch. Hand moving up and down slowly aroud his shaft as you watched him carefully, waiting on his every reaction. Your mouth left his as you lowered your body to meet his erection.

You took pride in your blowjobs but you knew one might be too much for Edvin so you slowed it down for him. You darted your tongue out, licking a long stripe along the underside of his cock, letting it slide to his slit and earning a long groan from him. Opening your mouth, you let the tip slip in, sucking it tightly. His hands laid awkwardly on each side of his body, not sure if they were allowed to touch you but you didn’t mind, you just wanted to make him feel good.

“Fuck, please, I wanna be inside you” he whispered almost desperately, surprising both of you. You complied to his wish, getting up from the bed to rid of your skirt and underwear.

“Sure?” you asked as you took place on his lap again. Edvin nodded, his hands meeting your hips as you reached for a condom on your bedside table. Your lips were on his neck as you rolled it down his dick, his breath was quickening. “Edvin, calm down, it’s fine. I’m gonna do it now, yeah?”

You rose your hips to align yourself to his erect member, slowly going down, his hands pushing you onto him. Your hands tangled in his hair as you sighed in relief and he moaned when your walls squeezed him. “You okay?” you asked when he fully penetrated you.

“Fuck yeah. Wait, don’t move yet.” his head fell to your chest as he tried to concentrate and not burst in the first second.

“Whatever you need” you hugged his head closer to your chest, hands tuning through his hair as you kissed it. He looked up at you, chin between your breasts as his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. “Yeah?” you confirmed one last time.

“Yeah” he grinned nervously, brown eyes still glued on yours. Your hips started moving in back and forth motions, slowly building your pace, always checking on him. “More” he whispered.

“More?” you questioned teasingly, pulling his head away from your chest by his hair.

He nodded “please”, pulling you impossibly closer by the waist. You didn’t dare to question again, lips meeting his again as you started bouncing on him. His hand dropped between your bodies as he tried to find your clit, you chucked, pulling away from his kiss, and guided his fingers to the right spot.

“There, angel. Circles, yeah?” you whispered to his cheek and he nodded, his fingers doing exactly what you taught him. “Fast learner, huh?”.

You started to slow down your movements, your hand softly wrapping around his pale neck, he leaned into your touch making way for you to kiss his neck and suck a hickey. Pulling away you looked at the red mark that would soon turn purple and join the one from last week, appreciating your work. “So pretty”

You watched his expressions like they were in slow motion, brows coming together, pink lips parting, eyes shut tight, you were making him feel so good. “Fuck, so so close, can I cum?”

For some reason having edvin underneath you, all red and sweaty, hair pointing in every direction, asking for permission to cum turned you on like nothing ever did before.

“Let go, darling, you can let it go.” you caressed his blond strands as his hand left your clit and grabbed your hip, blunt nails digging into your skin. You never stopped your movements, squeezing him tightly with your cunt, making him spill his hot load in the condom. He whined loudly in you ear, his breath heavy as he tried to come down from his high. “Are you okay, angel?”

“Perfekt” he gave you a tired smile as his hand made its way back to your clit, circling it again. “Want to make you feel good”

“More pressure.” you corrected him with your hand on top of his. “Now faster.”

“Like this?” You nodded giving him the drop of confidence he needed before he could take your left breast into his mouth sucking on it and leaving open mouthed kisses all over it.

“Ja. Now just keep going and don’t stop.” you explained and he nodded, he was eager to make you feel good, wanted to see you cum. “Fuck, Edvin, so close, don’t stop.”

You finally felt your orgasm wash over you, legs closing around his wrist and head falling back but you were quickly pulled out of your trance by his loud moans when you squeezed his soft dick tightly.

“I did not know it was gonna do that” he said resting his head on your chest “Fuck” you laughed at his cluelessness.

“Oh, darling. Are you okay?”

“Better than i’ve ever been.” he chuckled against your skin.

Holding his soft member by the base you pulled out, getting off his lap and watching it flop on your hand.

“Stop looking at it like that.” he laughed

“Like what? I have to take this off. I’ve already seen it anyway.”

“But it looks small now.” he argued as you took it off, tying so his cum didn’t spill.

“Trust me, it’s not small.” You pecked his stupid grin as you got up to go to the bathroom. “Here” you threw a pack of wet wipes at him after you cleaned up. “Can’t believe you lost your on screen virginity before actually having sex” you laughed. laying back on your bed.

“Oh, shut up. Leave me alone.“

“It’s okay, you’re all caught up now.” you pulled him closer making him cuddle back onto your naked chest.

“Fan, det var så bra!” he breathed out throwing his arm around your waist.

“Varsågod, älskling”

[goodmorningbatterycity]

Violent rays, Party Poison, and Toxic Sunshine walk into the diner wearing black cloaks, Tickled Pink lpoks up from the potato chips shes eating Tickled Pink: Umm…whaa? Why are you dresssed like that? ( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ) Violent Rays: Because Axe Destructo is…..GONE Bomb Baby: What?? What do you mean hes gone??? ⊙﹏⊙∥ Party Poison: It's true. He's another casualty of…..TAYLOR SWIFT Tickled Pink: Whaaaaa? What does THAT mean? Is she a Drac??? Bomb Baby: NOOOOOO not my queen Taylor!!!! (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ) Violent Rays: Shut the fuck up bomb, Im sck of hearin you call that rat your 'queen,' no shes not a drac but she mght as well be, in gfact maybe she IS ans we just dont know it, oh my fuckin god im gtin pissed off *grabs a cigretee and starts smoking, pacing aroud the diner floor* No shes not a drac that we knw of, but.....im s o fuckin pisdfed off.... Toxic Sunshine: Take your time, baby! (；′⌒) Violent Rays: So Axe destructo was listneing to some shitty taylor swift mixtape, god that name makes me want to shit out a lung, and anywya……a drac heard him and thought he was ONE OF THEM, so he kidnapped Destruct and now hes gone foreve,r im so fuckin pissed wy am i alicve, fuck me fuck evergignhbhn Tickled Pink: Whaaaa? Axe Destructo is….GONE?? (ʘ ʖ̯ ʘ) Bomb Baby: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! NOT AXEY!!!!!!!!!!! ヽ(*。>Д<)o゜ Vioelnt rays: yeah bomb thats what hapepns when you listn to fuckin tyalor swift, dracs lisften to her all the time and they think your one of them, theu tink ur w/ bli, your a friend of korse, yor part of Bat Shitty,t hats what happens when ou let er sick music GODDAMN IM GON FUCKONI BUST A CINDERBLOCK WIH MY NUTS Toxic Sunshine: Nooo nooo baby dobn't do tht!! Remember what happend with the cactus??? Tickled Pink: Yeah Rays, your balls didn't heal for WEEKS! (#`O′) Vioelnt Rasys: yeah well let this be a lesson to yall, god im so fuckin pissed oim gon stick my dick in an anthill, i migt be late for dinenr tonigtt, dont wait up Toxic Sunshine: Ok well babey…..we'll save a plate for you!

WARNIGN: LISTENING TO TAYLOR SWIFT CAN BE HAZARDOUDS TO YOUR HEALTH ****THIS HAS BEEN A PSA FROM…………..VIOLENT RAYS GANG*****

Are you drunk? The typos, babes. 😂

[onthewaytosomewhere]

WIP Word Search

alright so I think I did this some time in the last couple weeks but these words had me curious so - why not - right?!

thanks for the tag @kiwiana-writes (all of your words made me so darn excited for what you have coming)

i didn't think i was honestly gonna have any of them but i had some bits for 2 of them and 2 of these were definitely written sometime in the last like 48 hours so guess it was like fate lol - my words this time were: land, answer, spare, funeral, value -

land: from - hockey player alex bookstore owner henry just need to fuck it out maybe i dunno

He must have missed the end of the conversation because he’s brought out of his moment of self-contemplation by Bea’s hand landing on his arm, “I’ll let you get back to what you were doing, Hen,” Before he can respond, she is already scurrying off back to the office, sending Henry a quick wink that he almost missed.

answer: from Alex side of college au

He decides to answer honestly, “I’m not sure, but I hope so. I just hafta get past the point where I’m afraid to say anything for fear of screwing up whatever friendship we have going now.”

and 2 from obligatory college au - henry! - alex has feelz wake da f up (these are from 2 of my fave pieces of dialogue from this fic - so far at least)

“The cart before the horse? You are such a dork. It is so damn adorable. To answer your question, maybe it’s more about breaking the tension that has been around for so long that it probably has its own zip code now. A zip code is – “

&

Henry smiles at the memory of those kisses, “I’m not answering that a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

spare: nope - not at this point

funeral: nowhere to be found

value: nada, nada, limonada

i've seen this floating aroud so much I'm not even sure who hasn't done this anymore so open tag to anyone who hasn't or just maybe wants to again (lol)

words for ya: what, love, this, maybe

[the---hermit]

What were you like when you were 19?

Hi anon I hope you know that this ask has sent me down an existential crisis because it's been almost 5 years, and no I hadn't realized, and I am struggling to write an answer. I have wrote and deleated stuff a couple of times cause I am not sure how to word things. 19 year old me was going through a lot. Let's say that was a time of change, both positive and negative. (as if that isn't the case with most things in life). It's certainly marked me quite strongly. At I had finished with high school, which felt like a liberation. I celebrated going through an incledibly holiday aroud Europe with three friends of mine. That holiday really did something to me. I remember having terrible panic attacks before leaving because I was so scared and felt overwhelmed, but I faced it and I went. It was an emotional rollacoaster, but by the end I had so much fun. That journey is to this day one of the biggest personal victories of my life, I don't know how I did it but I did it (which is ironicly enough a good description of that whole year, and most of my life actually). At 19 I also started going to uni, which was a much needed academic change. I didn't have the best of time in high school, and I starting my uni journey brought me a new joy and enthousiasm for studying and learning. It was also quite complicated to figure out out uni worked, and how I had to study (it took me a lot of time to find a proper study method for uni let me tell you). What really marked that year is the fact that a very close friendship degenerated into an incredibly toxic relationship that then thankfully found its end, not in the best way, but it did end. I don't want to go into details for obvious personal reasons, but let's just say that things went bad and worst in waves. I got to a point where I would wake up feeling panicky and had anxiety turning on my phone in the mornings. I felt like I was emotioally responsable for this person which made me hesitate ending things, I was stuck in a limbo that really fucked me up. Things ended not in the best way, but they did, and althought my anxiety revolving that took months to die out I felt like I was reborn. Sadly this friendship ended with me losing other friends as well, but if I didn't burn that bridge I don't really know what would have been of me. This event marked not only that year but me as well, it clearly effected me a lot, and as I said it marked a final change in my life. In a way I feel like I am again in a new fase of change at the moment although differently. So 19 year old me was a little stuck and a little lost at best. As I said complicated times. But I am proud of 19 year old me becuase they still prove to me that I can get back up, even after bad falls that hurt more than just a bit.

Overall when I think about this stuff I can't comprehend how some people when thinking about past versions of themselves feel cringe and embarassment. I was and still am a very embarassing creature, believe in me, but the more years pass and the more I look back at old versions of me and see how much of a badass they were. I don't feel cringe about my teenege self, when I was in middle or high school. When I look back at them I feel pride, if they went through all they went through, and still got back up again, it means I can do it again now. That gives me some hope in myself.

Okay this degenerated in a longer reflection that I intended, I am not sure you were hoping for such a answer. As I said those were complicated times, and they were made of a lot of changes that brought with them a lot of negative and positive feelings. I am, as I said, very curious on why you asked for 19 yo specifically (sooo, you know send me another ask to tell me). I will now go pondering on how time is fake and it can't have been that long ago. I hope you'll have a good day.

[animatorweirdo]

Good morning/evening! It's muffin anon and thank you SO, SO MUCH for that mini fic! Just your thoughtfulness in writing it even though you don't take requests at the moment made me feel so much better. Although, I am so sorry to hear that you had a bad day as well. On another note, do you think it is just a coincidence? Or maybe we are fated soulmates? Who knows?

Seeing how you are excited for the next part for loremaster reader, would me writing this next part for you make you feel better? (Though be warned, this one is on the angstier side of things.)

• Everything was blurry, you could neither see or percieve anything clearly.

• You could feel pıwer from all around you. And action. Someone was figthing. But you didn't know who. You merely wished to rest.

• You felt your body being tossed around as you kept going in a d out of consousness. And you felt fresh air against your skin, something you have'nt felt for ehat felt like years.

• And you headd the cry of an eagle as wind picked up in speed. At that moment, you knew you were free from torture, but you couldnt live the excitement as you body finally gave up and youn passed out.

• Next time you come to cpncousness, you have a pounding headache, laying in a weirdly comfy bed. For a split second, you think you are back in your apartment. But then you see a face you cannot miss for anyone else.

• "My lord Elrond," you say, trying to get up. Elrond stops you and makes you lie down again.

• "You are not yet well enough to speak, do not force yourself.”

• But you do not get to hear what he says as Saruman's power drags you back into darkness.

• For weeks, you feel a battle of powers take place in your mind. One saide is Lord Elrond and ocxasionally, his children against the gentle, manupilative, convincing and powerful voice of Saruman.

• Each time you would try to free yourself from the darkness plauging your mind, Saruman's voice would take hold. Each time Lord Elrond managed to bring to consousness, Saruman's pıwer dragged you back to darkness.

• Lamentations of the sweet voices of elves echoed in your mind. So, they had given up on you.

• Rage filled your mind as you thought about how the people who had named you elf-friend could abondon you so easily.

• Rage burned in your mind, bright and powerful as white flame and turned the darkness clucrhing you into ashes.

• You woke up, gasping for air.

• You look aroud and find yourself in that same wierdly comfy bed surrounded by the elven friends you made during the quest.

• There were Lord Elrond and his children, your dear minstrel friend Lindir, the guards you annoyed the heck out during your brief time as a prisoner, Legolas and- Wiat what? Legolas? And his esquire?

• Why would Legolas and his esquire would be here?

• The answer hit you like bricks falling from the skies.

• The events of the Lord of the Rings had started at least some time ago before Saruman-

• He knows, fuck, supplied your oh so elequent mind.

• "Why did you give up upon me," you asked, dissapointment evident in your voice.

• "I believe there has been a misunderstanding, my friend," Lord Elrond said, trying to calm down the atmosphere. "You had died while we were trying to bring you back."

• "What," was all you could say before Lord Elrond launched into an explaination.

• It seemed the torture you had faced at Saruman's hands had broken your mind and body so much that you could not handle the battle of powers going on between Lord Elrond and him.

• And you had died.

• You had died and come back simply because you were mad at your friends.

• You felt sick in the stomach. You had left them and then blamrd them for not helping you.

• You had tried to apoligize to Lord Elrond for letting that knowladge slip but he had sushed you, for Gandalf had already told him that Saruman might know something he shouldn't. And that you could talk once it speaking didn't give you chest pains.

• In the following days you slowly recovered -many thanks to the healers and Lindir, who very sweetly had helped you sleep with his calming songs.

• Eventually, the dreaded day of future talk came. And you were not ready for it. Not in the slightest bit.

This was the longest thing I've written aside from "Child or Morgoth" that turned into an au.  I am sorry that this part doesn't have much plot. But I thought that 'dying and reviving yourself' was too important to just brush up on. (And I really hope I got the timelines right.)

I hope I managed to make you feel better the same way you did to me. Remember to take care of yourself.

Soulmates? Oh, you cheeky. And good continuation 👍 I think it is a nice add for reader to momentarily die since it would probably be too much to a human body to handle Saruman's and Elve's powers at the same time. I do find it funny reader managed to come back by the power of anger. And I am definitely curious how reader will explain that the enemy knows the future and things might be ten times more difficult. Oh, how will they plan out Sauron's defeat then?

And thanks. I feel much better after my little mental rest day. And don't rush with writing. Things are better cooked slowly. And take care of yourself as well.

[wolfclaire]

So if I am correct, then Pearl must have at a total of 100 or so dogs, aka Aussie Pings incarnation, aka how the fuck is Pearl going to feed them all?!

I hope the dogs are satisfied with beef for now or else Tilly and I will need to find a replacement for most of our ingredients

Hi, thank you for your ask!

I mean, as my Pearl was returning to the Tower she only has...let me check my notes... She has 13 dogs as for Chapter 41. But with how time+breeding works, when the Session 6 rolls aroud, my math is telling me she will have...in total 63 or 94 dogs :)

And what they are eating, well...there is beef; there are/were sheep that were left unsupervized at Scott's ranch; Zombie flesh is still easy obtainable (+ there is a spawner for Zombies); there should still be a chicken farm that Cleo had presumably set up at their base (but after that TNT, who knows if it survived) or at least there certainly is one chicken farm at Gem's base (that Pearl refuses to go to atm)....

Oh and I can bet that some dogs would even enjoy warm soup that Pearl makes :)

And for the future, you are thinking that all the dogs survive the last session and that Pearl would be able to continue breeding them...............yeah, just, ehm, yeah, just...let's try that again ^^"

Dead dogs don't need to eat you know?

[ted616]

Psychology in CSM: Denji's relationships and how they affect his character. Also a bit of how he affects them.

So. I was really bored and haven’t stopped thinking about CSM since finishing the manga more than a month ago. So here comes a big essay in well, what it says on the top. Just kinda letting my thoughts out about stuff and my interpretations. I think (!) I mostly understand everything well, but who knows.

Beware. This is LONG. a LOT of text is coming. a LOT.

First of all.

Denji is presented as a somewhat relatable, teenage MC. What this means is– Even if his life experiences are really specific, specially because of how absurd CSM is as a whole– His way of thinking and living is one that easily resonates with any teenage boy reading this manga. His kinda stupid, charming, genuinely kind-hearted and just wants people to love him. It is all throughout Part 1 that he tackles his own feelings and humanity, and learns from all the shit that happens to him. So let’s get a recap on all the people in his life and how each character affected him to become who he is in Part 2. (This is being written after the release of Chapter 120, so yeah).

The most important person to understand Denji’s psyche I believe is a character we do not know much about. No name, no design, almost nothing–

Denji’s Mother.

As it was said before, we know little about this character. The only data we have is that she died when Denji was still young (probably aroud 1 to 4 years old or so), and that it was from a heart disease he inherited and was “cured” of when Pochita fused with him.

Why is this character so important? Because it is her death that sets up one of the “pillars” of Denji’s personality and story.

Denji never had a mom, truly. Because she died when he was so young, he doesn’t hold memories of her. From a young age, he was robbed of a maternal figure and left with many men who made his life all the harder and shittier. It is the lack of a maternal figure that makes Denji initially fall in love with Makima, as he finally found the comfort and “love” of a mother in her, one he doesn’t fully understand; as he never once had it and only thought of women as people to please him until that very moment. That is why he seeks Makima’s affection, why he decides to join Public Safety and the hunt for the Gun Devil, because then Makima would do anything he wants! And because he loves her, that’d be perfect, right?

The lack of a Mother is what made Denji the perfect target for Makima, a young boy who had never really felt *love* and who had the Chainsaw Devil inside her. It is because he was robbed of that affection at such a young age that she could manufacture it for him and later on destroy it. Sure, if he actually had a caring mother everything would’ve probably gone a similar route! But it is because he didn’t have one that it was so easy for Makima to do. It’s grim, and fucked up! But everything in CSM is like that, and I think it’s really interesting to think and talk about.

Denji’s mom is truly an enigma of a character, and we don’t really know anything about her as a character. But I think that’s what makes the mysticism around Denji’s past so interesting and intriguing, and why I personally love to write/read about it in fanfiction. I really hope we see more of that past in the future, but at the same time feel like it’d be hard to do/and we really don’t *need* it to understand Denji’s character further.

Anyways. To the next asshole.

Denji’s father.

We don’t know much about his dad either, but we do know more about him than about Denji’s mom.

Denji’s dad was a drunk asshole, who had a multi million yen-worth debt with the yakuza for a reason. For what we know, he abused Denji physically and verbally, probably as a result of his mom’s early passing? And it was because of that abuse that Denji responded, defending himself and killing the man by his own hand.

It is here where Denji faces his first trauma. He runs away from the reality of him being his own father’s killer, taking advantage of the set-up made by the yakuza to fool himself into thinking of it as a suicide for what was most likely around a decade. It’s a fact that would break him if he ever remembered, and it’s one of the triggers that Makima pulls to awaken the Chainsaw Devil from him at the end of Part 1.

I see this event as the first in a series of different happenings that feed onto something– Denji’s guilt. In Part 2 we see a sadder, more tired Denji; who’s eyes look almost empty and who probably isn’t getting nearly enough sleep as he should. That can be for many reasons, and one of the reasons I believe is the sheer guilt he feels after the events of Part 1. Because he caused everyone around him to die, becuase he killed his own dad. He’s really different to the Denji from Part 1, because he has to face the reality he’s in; one where everyone he cared about has died, one where he sees himself as at least a partial reason for their deaths, and his father’s death is what “starts” this. His mom died of a heart virus, so that couldn’t be his fault– But he killed his dad. In self-defense, and we do know that the bastard deserved it– But he still killed a man. Not a fiend taking his best friend’s body, not Power being killed because he was controlled by Makima to open a door.

With his own hands, before even becoming a half-devil, when he was fully human, he killed a man. It doesn’t matter the reason, that weighs too heavily on anyone’s shoulders, and that’s why his subconscious hid away the memory for so long, and why Pochita tried to bury it further once he became one with Denji; because it would completely break him. And, as an audience, we know what happened when he finally remembered. 

And lastly, I won’t linger long on his relations with the yakuza, because most of what could be said is clear in the manga. For years, he was used and beaten around for a debt that wasn’t his, and finally he was betrayed by the same people that used him and “killed”. 

With these three examples a lot of stuff is clear, but one is most interesting to me.

Denji, in his 16 years he’s lived before the start of CSM, has never felt truly loved by a human. In his entire life, all the people around him have used and abused him, and the only who didn’t and who would’ve possibly loved him died when he was too young. Denji doesn’t have any real reasons to have any attachment to Humanity. The same humanity that wronged him, made him feel like shit, that starved him for weeks, that the best it would give him was stale bread and trash food– For all we know, without Makima in the picture he probably would’ve stayed by his own after the Zombie Devil fight and probably made himself an enemy of both Devils and Humans, possibly killing a bunch of the latter (especially if Public Safety tried going after him, something that surely would’ve happened).

Anyways. This goes directly to one of the most important characters in this manga.

Pochita.

We enter the field where I could make a specific post talking about each of these characters, so I’ll try not to make it too long and just talk about his relationship with Denji and all that. Sorry if it ends up being a slog.

Pochita meets Denji right after the death of his father, and makes it so Denji isn’t alone anymore. Pochita is widely different to everyone Denji’s ever met, as he indeed is, a Devil. Denji clearly didn’t know too much about devils at this point, and so seeing one like Pochita– A little dog, bleeding out in the open and whimpering in fear– He takes the initiative in helping the little mutt in exchange for help.

Via their contract, they become each other’s first ever friend. Pochita finally fills the hole within Denji’s heart, the one of a caring person who would listen to him and make him feel loved, even if he were a mere dog; while Denji finally fulfills Pochita’s dream of having a friend to hug him, something that was impossible for him until recently as we would later on learn.

Pochita is another reason for my point of Denji not caring about humanity. His only friend, ever, was a devil. The only one who listened to him, cared about him and made him feel loved, and gave him warmth in the cold nights in his shack, and who he shared every meal with– A devil. 

Finally, it is Pochita who makes one of the biggest sacrifices in the whole of Chainsaw Man. Pochita gives away his own free will, his life in a sense, for Denji’s sake. Pochita’s dream was already fulfilled, so now he merely desires to see Denji’s come to fruition, and experience those moments with him, even if Pochita isn’t really *there* anymore. Furthermore, even when the Chainsaw Devil is reawaken and Denji’s mind totally breaks, what Pochita tries to do is completely opposed to what one would think a devil like him would do. Totally opposed to what Makima would’ve expected, too.

Pochita tries to run, tries to do all of the things Denji dreamed about when they were still with each other physically, all the things Denji talked to him about. He tries to eat a burguer at a fast food place, tries to go on a date with the only girl Denji knew at the time, anything that would trigger Denji’s humanity and would bring him back.

Finally, Pochita trusts on someone else to Denji. After all his attempts are ruined, after Makima has them pinned down– Pochita locates the little bit of blood from Power, and “revives” her with that. Pochita trusts Power, because he knows Denji loves her like he loves Pochita, because he trusts that at least she could do what’s right to help their friend. And, finally, it is by Pochita’s trust on her, and Power’s own trust in Denji, that he can come back. 

Something to be noted is that Pochita isn’t *dead*. He lives within Denji, talks with him in dreams, and they even somehow interact within his mind. Pochita still actively cares for what’s best for Denji, and wishes him to do what’s best for others (Like in the case of Nayuta). Pochita is, to some extent, a figure that still helps Denji out in his journey, even though he can’t be there with him anymore.

I could really write a whole different essay on Pochita as a character, but that’s for some other day. Anyways, I’m gonna leave Makima for the end, so the next character’d be–

Aki.

Aki is the first actual instance that Denji has of someone, *a human*, caring for him. Aki cooked for Denji, gave him a roof, a bed, clothing, etc. Even if it was all somewhat fabricated by Makima, Aki and Denji learned to love each other like siblings nonetheless. They sadly didn’t have too much time together, but we, as an audience, know that the time they did have was the happiest one for the both of them. Denji had a family, a brother and a sister, who cared for him and who he cared for; who watched TV with him and enjoyed having him around. 

All the while, for the first time since he was a child, Aki gained a family. After all those years, he slowly stopped caring for revenge, and now only cared to make sure that those two’s lives were safe and sound, even after his inevitable death. It reached a point where he was willing to pull away from killing the Gun Devil, because he didn’t care about the mission anymore, or at least cared less about it than he did about Denji’s and Power’s wellbeings; because when he was faced with the possibility of them dying, he got scared. Afraid.

All in all, the Denji we’re seeing now in Part 2 is a lot like the Aki from Part 1. He’s keeping up a house with a devil and 8 animals, cooking, getting all the money he can get to sustain them all and pay for Nayuta’s tuiton, while having to take care of all the dogs around and such. I’d imagine that many of the things he has to do daily now would be impossible if not for the influence Aki had on his life, and the imprint he left as an actual (somewhat) responsible adult. 

And again, Aki’s death feeds into Denji's guilt and current mental state directly. Even if it was most likely a lie and impossible, he may still believe that he could’ve done something to prevent it. That he could’ve saved Aki, that he could’ve reciprocated all the love and care he gave them, but didn’t. This may enter the headcanon field a bit too much, but I do believe that we’ve seen him mention Power but not Aki for a reason– Because he had closure with Power. Because he promised to find the Blood Devil and turn it into Power again. Meanwhile, the last time he saw Aki was the day he left their home and came back as a fiend. Never did he have the chance to say goodbye, to make any promise to hold to, anything. Aki left their home, the Gun Fiend came back knocking and he had to kill it. He had to give in, to lose all belief that the Aki he knew was still there, because he had to. Even thinking about him probably damages Denji like nothing else, to think of the brother he lost, the one he killed. The one person he could’ve saved.

Anyways. Aki’s character is also a deep one that I’d love to talk about some other day, so let’s keep going.

Power.

I’ve seen many people interpreting Denji and Power’s dynamic as a romantic, and while I wouldn’t *judge* people over it, it does rub me the wrong way. Because many times it is established that they do not hold any romantic feelings for each other. They do find comfort in one another like they don’t with anyone else, but it is always claimed how Denji doesn’t feel any attraction towards her like he does with the likes of Makima or Reze.

Anyways. As it is said by Power herself, Denji is her first friend. The first human to care about her in any way, to help her out even after she wronged him, fooling him to be food for the Bat Devil. Even after that, he sticked with her, ultimately finding in Power the sister he never had, someone even more fucked up and dirty and asshole-y than himself, who hid away her care for others in her own pride; but clearly needed him and Aki to persist.

It was Denji who helped Power through her PTSD of the Darkness Devil fight, while Power was one of the people who stuck with him through everything, who *cared* about Denji.

It is with her sacrifice that we can see this to the fullest extent. At that point, most of the people around him cared about the Chainsaw Man, and the Chainsaw Man only.

Devils wanted him dead because he was the Chainsaw Man. Reze, for all Denji knew, just wanted to get the Chainsaw’s heart. Makima only cared about Chainsaw Man, and thought of Denji as a repulsive insult to the Chainsaw’s “legacy” or “mystique”, of sorts.

Power cared and believed in Denji. She believed in him, she knew he could defeat the Control Devil, and she knew he could continue his life forward. Without Aki, and maybe without Power herself; because she knew Denji. She knew Denji could withstand the worst of shits and come back from it, and she believed in him to find the Blood Devil and turn into “herself” again.

And with that comes another point that I raise. Maybe also a little bit too headcanon-y, but I want to get it out.

When Devils die and are reborn, they forget their previous lives entirely. That’s why Nayuta can be raised to be a better person than what Makima was, the whole nature vs. nurture thing. Why am I bringing it up?

When the Blood Devil comes back, it won’t be Power. If Denji gets the Blood Devil to befriend him, and he gets to tell her all about her past life, it may turn into something *like* Power. Dirty, egotistical, but caring and loving of her family. But the memories won’t be there. The experiences Denji, Aki and Power had together would still only survive in Denji’s mind.

The Blood Devil may be capable of being like Power, but it isn’t capable of *being* Power. And that’s alright, because I believe that’s what Power wanted when she made her contract with Denji.

Power knew she’d die, and she knew she wouldn’t remember her past life. I believe, and remember, this may be a little too headcanon-y, but I believe that Power doesn’t plan on “coming back”. Power planned for the Blood Devil to come to Earth and learn to love, learn to live happily with a family, just like she herself did. She wants Denji to have someone there for him, someone like Power, even though Power herself isn’t really *there*. She merely wants the new Blood Devil to have the chance to experience the beautiful life Power had with Denji and Aki, because as a fiend and devil herself, she knows how great it truly is. To have people caring about you, to share your meals with others, to sleep in the same bed with no true romantic intentions. To have a family.

Now, what do we get from all of this?

First, all of these people showed and taught many things to Denji.

Aki taught him that humans can be kind and caring out of their own heart, not expecting anything in return. Pochita helped him be himself, live life at its fullest just like he dreamed for so long. And Power taught him why he shouldn’t merely chase women for romance, why and how anyone can just be your friend, or even something far beyond than a mere friend, while not being in a romantic relationship. 

But most importantly, Power and Aki are what ultimately proves something to Denji; he’s human. It may’ve been said by Makima originally, and maybe it was with her that he cried for the first time, but it’s not truly the same.

He came into Public Safety doubting if he was truly human anymore, doubting if he’d ever cry for people or himself ever again. When Pochita “died”, he didn’t cry. When Himeno died, it stung, but he didn’t really care that much. He thought it’d be the same with Aki and Power, both because maybe he just didn’t have a human heart anymore, and because, who would care for those assholes?

But alas, he did care. He cared, maybe too much, just like they also cared about him. Their deaths were what broke him, what changed him, what somewhat killed Part 1’s Denji and his innocence and his persona, what birthed the more laid-back, depressed and guilty Part 2 Denji. Because he truly cared about them like no one else, because they were the world for him, because it was with them that he truly was human. In a way, Denji opened many doors, and let these people into his life, let them change him and shape how he is as a person, and even though he loved them and they loved him back, that is what made everything hurt so much in the end.

That is why he wanted to give up. Why he wanted to just die, because his life had already been too good, it had reached its peak and then it had crashed down directly to the ground. It is Power’s words and contract that rekindled something within him.

Power’s sheer belief in him was what made him want to go on. Live, and defeat the monster that had broken his family into pieces. Even though he still loved that monster, he had to keep going and defeat it, for Power’s and Aki’s sake, for his family. He couldn’t give up, because that would mean all the love the three of them shared was in vain, a mere fabrication made by someone else in a twisted game, and that just wasn’t true. Because he loved them so much, because they gave everything for each other, their bond was real, and he had to fight for it. 

yeah i love the hayakawa sibs a lot. miss them too.

Anyways, we’re reaching the end (i think). there’s not many characters left for me to go over, but who knows.

Here comes a big one. I may not be the best person to describe this relationship, but I’ll try to, at least.

Reze.

Reze and Denji’s relationship is a tragic one, probably the most tragic out of Denji’s friends and such. 

Reze, like Denji, was a child who was treated harshly and used by those around her, growing up as a weapon for her government, not too unlike Makima herself. It is because of that that she’s sent to take the Chainsaw Devil’s heart, and so, she meets Denji. Not the Chainsaw Man, but Denji.

She was supposed to get close to him first to take his heart, and so, she did. She met Denji, a kid awfully similar to herself, with a charming personality and level of innocence that was awfully odd on someone like himself. He merely wanted to have fun, to love, to learn– Slowly, as Reze understood more and more about Denji, she fell in love with him. In how similar they both were, how he’d always try his best to make her happy, how stupid he could be at times– But, alas, she was still a weapon of the USSR. And so, she had to do as her job commanded, and try and take the boy’s heart for using it as a weapon like herself.

It is after a long fight, in a moment where she can see how he still cares about her, even giving her his own shirt– She presented him with an option. She so deeply wanted to go away, to be left alone by Public Safety and her own countrymen, that she proposed to Denji the idea of just escaping. Leaving and never returning, something she thought he would love! Because they were so alike–

But he couldn’t. Even if he loved her so much, even if Reze meant so much for him, he couldn’t leave Public Safety like that. Not only would they find and kill him, no, he probably never thought about that too much… He couldn’t leave his family behind. He was just discovering what Aki and Power meant to him, how comforting it was to have them and a nice house to live in, and he was still in love with Makima. Even if it hurted, he couldn’t leave with Reze.

Even so, he still tried amending that. He tried to get her to meet him at their usual place, to have a normal date and maybe sort things out with Public Safety, but alas, she never showed up. And I believe this is something really important to understand about Denji’s POV; 

From his perspective, Reze never came back. For all he knew, she wasn’t truly in love with him, and didn’t care to show up for their date. Denji didn’t know what really caused her to stand him up that day, and the next time he saw her– It was as a mere puppet of the Control Devil, trying to kill him. I may have the facts wrong, and I kinda hope I do because this is so fucking sad srsly I hate fujimoto– But Denji never learnt the truth. He never learnt that Reze too didn’t go to school, that she loved him, or that Makima was the real reason why she wasn’t there when she had to.

Here, Denji learns more about himself. He learns what true love is, even if at the time he hadn’t realized it yet; it is with Reze that he understands what the companionship he yearned for so long really was. Not a warped, controlling maternal love that was never reciprocated, but an actual, teenage romance of two people that are so differently similar. And it is with Reze that, for the first time, Denji has his heart broken. Maybe he turns away from it quickly, goes back to just trying to impress Makima, but that is still something that stays in a teenager’s mind, no matter how hard one tries to suppress it.

The thought of what could’ve been, of what would’ve happened if. It’s something that would nag at anyone’s head, and I imagine that it probably still hangs around Denji’s, taking into account that in Chapter 120 Nayuta mentions how “every woman he meets tries to kill him”, I do believe that may imply that he’s told her about much of his past, including Reze. Again, maybe a little too headcanon-y, but that would mean she still holds a place in his mind, which is not really far-fetched or anything, so–

Anyways! We’re coming to a close. I would love to talk about Kishibe, and do love his weird father/uncle-like relationship with Denji, but I don’t believe it holds anything too important aside from having teached a lot about Devil Hunting to Denji. I’d love to talk about it more deeply once he comes back in Part 2 and more stuff happens though! He’s easily in my top 5 CSM characters lmao

Anyways. Here comes the big one.

Makima.

Makima is to Denji many things.

His first love, his greatest opponent, a mother, the person that gave him a purpose and then shred it into pieces.

In a way, they’re similar. They both were confused, lost children once, that needed help and care from others. It took Denji long before he got it, but he did; and that saved him. Makima, on the other hand, never truly had it. She grew up a weapon, someone who couldn’t understand companionship that wasn’t formed by control and manipulation, and so she seeked for someone of her caliber, someone at her own level. That someone was the Chainsaw Devil, the only one who posed a substantial threat to those like her, the Horsemen. 

She fantasized and dreamt of the Chainsaw Devil, as her equal, as the one who could give her her perfect world, or, if not, that would give her the most honorable of deaths.

But Makima never understood the Chainsaw Devil. How it never wanted to harm, to kill; it only ever wanted friends and affection, just like she did. Maybe she never realized, because she held it so highly, but the Chainsaw Devil was the most human of devils. 

But the one who understood the Chainsaw was Denji. He understood Pochita, and gave him a house, food, warmth, protection, and a friend. He gave him lots of hugs, and pats, and always shared with him, and always talked about the dreams that Pochita loved to hear about.

Makima couldn’t begin to understand that. She never once saw the Chainsaw Devil as Pochita, but as the Hero of Hell. She was jealous, jealous of a kid who was similar to her, but who could get that affection and connection with her idol, her equal. She couldn’t begin to understand the Chainsaw Devil as anything but almighty and powerful, as a beast of destruction, one that kills any that it finds on its path. 

Makima gave too much to Denji. She gave him a home, food, a family and friends… She gave him hope. She tried to take it away, but she couldn’t. His relationships with those around him were far too strong for them to be broken like that.

Denji, finally, killed Makima. But everything was still too hard for him, because after everything, he truly loved her. She used him, manipulated him; killed everyone important to him, even weaponized them. But she gave him everything he ever wanted, she gave him his first hug, his first bowl of udon…

Many people loved Makima mindlessly, because of her powers. Aki doesn’t remember *why* he even loved her, and the fiends only remember her “saving” them. The Hybrids too, were clearly mindless as she used them, the Katana Man, Reze and Quanxi all having many reasons to despise her to the core, but her control was just that powerful.

Maybe it influenced Denji to a point too, but something is clear. Denji truly loved Makima. He wasn’t controlled, at least for most of it, like the others. He had reasons to love her, many in fact. All of them may have been fabricated, acted, a lie– But they still were there, and he still remembers all of them. Denji was the only person to truly and wholeheartedly love Makima, but she never cared about that. She merely cared about Pochita, the Chainsaw Devil, who in return merely loved Denji.

Makima hasn’t left Denji’s mind yet, and she probably never will. Because he HAS to remember her, remember all that he went through, for the sake of the ones that died, and for Nayuta’s sake. To be sure she never ends up like that, to be sure she knows she’s loved.

Makima traumatized him like nothing else in his life. The Gun Fiend attack, the memory of his father’s death coming back, Power’s own death, Reze never showing up for their date, etc. All of it was her fault, and he may stop loving her some day, he may already have; but he will never stop remembering all of those moments. How sad, pitiful and broken he felt, how depressed he may have been, how guilty he still is. All of it is her fault.

Yeah. I’m a dramatic bitch.

Anyways, now I should talk more about Part 2’s characters and their relationships with Denji, but I believe that’s best to do some other day, when Part 2 ends or is reaching a conclusion.

I will say, though. Asa is a perfect fit for him, and I truly want to see them learn and grow together, because Denji really deserves *someone* that won’t die on dissapear on him now. Yoshida is a mystery, truly; and I cannot for the life of me decipher what the hell is going to happen with that asshole.

And his relationship with Nayuta is really cute and I love them, but I feel like the way he treats her is probably going to backfire eventually. Not a Makima 2, but something else; that they can solve at the end and so they won’t have to repeat the cycle of just killing the Control Devil and trying again on its next life.

anyways if you read through all of this 1. youre kinda cool 2. you may like to read some other stuff (?!) hit up my AO3 i have a lot of CSM fanfiction there https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddd11

[glorioustidalwavedefendor]

Also

"No kink at pride"

Well ... Some people have a uniform kink

-> So ... why the fuck is it O.K. that the cops* have a float?????

...

Becasue apparantly not all kink has been created equal (s.o.) ...

Some kinks are clearly perfcetly socially acceptable to just flaunt without getting everyones consent ...

ALSO

Some people have a foot fetish

So, by that very same logic no one should be allowed to walk around with shoes that reveal any bit of foot ...

Sorry, you gotta wear your winter boots in june ...

No Flip Flops

No sandals

No peep toes you pervert!

etc ...

Oh .. some people have a silicon fetish .. so any and all vendors that sell food and also do any kidn of washing dishes etc ... that involves dish gloves?

Nope sorry ... you gotta do that with your bare hands ...

Someone could see your gloves ...

Also, dear parenst please don't have gloves in your kitchen ... your kid did not consent to seeing "some random persons" fetish lying aroud in their own home ...

Like honestly ... while we are at it .. why is it O.K. to just sell dish gloves where evryone can see them?

They should only be sold in sex shops ... so we can consent to weather we want to see that ...

(also open shoes ... only sex shops ... )

Oh, Oh ... Balloons

Balloons are a legit kink

SO no balloons ... sorry ... no kink ar pride ...

DON'T BUY YOUR KID A NICE BIG BALLOON YOU PERVERT!

Yeah ... sorry like no one in this picture consented to see some random persons kink at Disneland:

Sorry (not sorry) ... I can't stop myselfe ... XD #malicious compliance

No kink at pride?

NO KINK AT DISNEYLAND!

And let's not start with the cast members and the fact that some people have. a kink for anthropomorphic animals ...

Sorry Minnie ... gotta stay away from the kids ...

Look at this ... disgusting ...

I did not consent to that ...

How will I explain this to my children? ... I mean I dodn't have any ... but if I had some ... how would I explain this????

And what kind of sicko would bring their kids to a place where they can just SEE stuff like that?

Although ... "think of the children" should not be an issue since if no kink at pride then please do not bring your kids in the firts place

Some people have a breeding kink after all ...

Like maybe just lock them up somewher euntil they no longer look like children ...

Also if you are visibly pregnat

Or just "look" like you might be pregnant also please just stay away ... no one consented to seeing that ...

...

Or .. idk ... maybe we could all calm teh fuck down over something that was started by the 4chan trolls?

It's either everyones kink at pride, or no ones ...

*(I mean beside the fact that: NO COPS AT PRIDE!)

No kink at pride is so funny cause what is and isn’t considered kink is inherently ambiguous and based on a power structure of who gets to be considered normal in society. And here you are enforcing it, siding with it.

[fromcydonia]

I mean if you actually want to talk about criticisms, we could talk about how poll after poll shows that an overwhelming majority of Israelis support the bombing of Gaza, even if they don’t support Netanyahu specifically. We can talk about how every Zionist on tumblr and Twitter is still spreading lies about UNRWA 6 months after they were debunked. But i also know that you won’t be willing to reckon with anyway of that, and unless you do, your thoughts are worthless on “xenophobia” directed at Israelis

did you block me and then came to my blog? lol

anyway, about the polls - here is one from 5 days ago:

you can translate yourself if you dont believe me but it says - are you in favor or against the current hostage deal? (that also brings the end of the war, this is what hamas asked in the deal)

64% are in favor, 21% dont know and 15% are against.

now lets talk about the war. 1200+ israelis died on 7.10, people were raped, burned to death, places were looted, people were beheaded, 200+ were kidnapped, even civilians from gaza invaded israel, kidnapped, looted, and lyched people. you can even watch videos of hostages entering gaza and civilians celebrate around them (in some cases, aroud their bodies)

and this is all from organization that only killed and kidnapped israelis before, and promised to do that again until all jews are gone from israel. do you really think people wont support a war against them? and i know you are talking about bombing gaza from above, and civilians casualties are horrible but first of all, i never see hamas say how many of the casualties are their members? and second, hamas put civilians in danger by using civilians places to store weapons, to have bases, to hold hostages (even force (?) civilians to hold hostages), they have tunnles underneath houses and even put mines in some of the houses (after the owners leave i guess)

so why would israel put in danger their own soldiers only because hamas uses their civlians to lure and kill soldiers? why do you think israelis would want to end a war while hamas is still a threat? i will tell you why, to return our hostages back, because we value life and we care for our own, and this is what you see in the picture above.

i wont lie, i argued with israelis before about things like killing babies and starving 2 million people - them saying those things is beyond bad. but first of all, you will find many palestinians that would say the same about us (doesnt make it better of course). second, many israelis dont support this kind of thing, and to say that we do, is to say we are all evil and that to kill us is the only option (dare i say, final solution?) for palestinians. third, because i see israelis as human beings, and know our history, i can understand why some say those fucked up things, just like i can understand why palestinians would say the same. we are all humans, we have trauma, we hate, we fear and it makes us say things we dont even realize what they really mean.

ok, second point, about unrwa.

first of all, twitter is full of stupid and racist people, and as i said in your post, there are stupid and racist people all around the world and they really like twitter. israelis are no different. second, what lies about unrwa? unrwa itself said they fired 9 people because they took part of 7.10, and this is not including the workers that already were killed. there are videos of unrwa workers on 7.10, one israeli hostage (a kis, i think 10 years old) said he were held by unrwa teacher, the idf found tunnels of hamas underneath unrwa buildings, israeli hostages said they were moved through humanitarian corridors that only unrwa supposed to use. and, lastly, unrwa is known to use pretty fucked up education materials. here is a video from 3 years ago:

so, im now asking you, do you want those children to study it's ok to die if it's because you kille jews? that death is the best thing that can happen? from what it seems, unrwa is trying to ready children to be fighters. unrwa is posioning those kids minds in order to ensure the palestinians will be forever at war, that they will keep dying because someone decided to teach them to choose war instead of peace. how can you support unrwa and say you care about paleatinians?

so yeah, i think you are xenopohic because you clearly prefer seeing israelis as monsters while you dont know what you are talking about or lie to yourself or others. if you want this war to end, you should start seeing both sides as human beings, you should understand there isnt a good side. both done evil things, both have innocent people, and both are victims of evil regimes. no side is going to just disappear, so you gotta pick, do you see us as humans, or docyou choose to support a war the palestinians cant win?

[khr-guilded-cage]

To Adopted!Tsuna writers:

Stop. Letting. Reborn. In.

Have his foster parents being like: 'Hn, no. We are not hiring you, you are pushy, disrespectful and rude. A full time tutor? No we don't need that. We didn't called you. Are you deaf?'

'Ciaossu. I am here to train Sawada Tsunayoshi.'

'May I come in?'

'But Tsuna can be the leader of the next generation!'

"I am staying here with Tsunayoshi. I only need a room and three meals as a day..."

"I will train Tsunayoshi to be a great boss..."

'Train him? For what? Family Business? Under my nose? Without my permission? Not most likely. You blanty lied to my face, still doing that actually. I am not letting you ever near my son.'

"You...want to speak with my teeneager son alone? Without my presence? A thing you refuse to tell me whats about? You have to be kidding me."

'No.' she said flatly. 'You can get fucked. I did not called a home tutor. Your weirdo. Leader of the next generation my ass, your obsession with my son ends here. You will have nothing to do with him. I am not putting a strange man inside my house with my child. I am not feeding or housing a useless freeloader.'

"I was just meeting my future student."

"What future student?" she asked sharply. "Are you deaf? I called no home tutor. Stop following my son aroud like a creepy stalker."

'Excuse me?' his mother smiled sharply. "My son don't have choice in his own life? I don't think so. If he don't want anything with this family business, so be it. Its his to decide, not yours.'

Reborn stared in silence, clearly surprised his mother was not some air-headed neglecful mother like Sawada Nana. Those people are mere a butch of weak civilians, its should be a easy job. No one should dare disagree with him of all people!