#HES A SMARTASS MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR

[baddestboy]

"Katsuki, I had such a bad day today." You pouted at your phone, talking to your boyfriend on video call while he was currently away on a mission.

"Who the fuck ruined it, baby? I swear I'll beat them up, especially if it's Dunce Face or S–"

You giggled a bit, making Bakugo stop his rambling and just looked at you like you were the crazy one. 

"It's not a person, you dummy. It's actually my laptop, it suddenly broke down when I was almost done with the report I was having a hard time with. Good thing it was saved on the cloud before it gave up, but I'm still bummed about the other files I can't retrieve until I have it repaired tomorrow."

Bakugo seethes on the other side. "When I get back, I'm buying you the fuckass most expensive laptop available so it won't break easily, and get my fucking hero support to make modifications so it won't break again. Good thing that piece of shit lasted long enough."

You hummed, flattered that your boyfriend cares about you so much he was... mad at your laptop? You smiled at him through your camera.

"I don't think that's what your supports should do, baby. They have more important things to do, like I don't know… Optimize the hero Dynamight's support items?"

"You smartass. They're on my payroll anyway so they should be able to do this request."

You let out a loud laugh, and Bakugo looks at you through the screen with a mischievous gaze.

"Actually, baby. Can you put your phone down on your laptop for a minute? I'm just trying to see something."

"Why?" You looked at his face, confused, but he just smirks at you. "Just do it for me, okay?"

You shrugged and got up, walking over to where your laptop was and placing your phone on top of it. Bakugo's booming voice the next second surprised you.

"YOU SHITTY FUCKHEAD LAPTOP! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD INCONVENIENCE MY SMARTASS LIKE THAT. IF YOU HAVE BEEF WITH THEM BLAME YOURSELF FOR YOUR SHITTY PROCESSOR AND GPU. YOU MESSED WITH THE WRONG PERSON I'M LITERALLY THEIR BOYFRIEND, THE GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT. TRUST THAT I WILL BURN YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MOTHERBOARD TO A CRISP WHEN I GET BACK FROM THIS SHITTY MISSION…"

It was so unexpected that you started laughing so hard, tears running down your eyes as you slowly sat down on your bed, trying to catch your breath.

You grabbed your phone while Bakugo was still ranting, talking about the slow and painful death that the laptop was going to have in his hands. "Katsuki, the hell was that?" You wheezed out in between your fits of laughter.

Bakugo stops mid-swear and looks at you confidently. "Open your laptop." "Babe, I literally told you that it won't boot up anymore." 

"Just trust me on this, okay? When was I ever wrong?" You rolled your eyes and moved your phone to your other hand to press the power button. "Well, did it work?" He looked at you expectantly.

The laptop fan whizzed, the power button lit up, then the screen lit up momentarily.

You held your breath in anticipation… But then it died down.

You started laughing again due to the sheer absurdity of the situation, and you could see Bakugo scowling on the screen as you made fun of him. "You were so sure too! You thought that threatening it would work, as if the laptop could understand you!"

"I'm hanging up."

"No, wait! Let's talk about it more! I'm literally Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight? Why'd you introduce yourself to an inanimate object? I have so many questions!"

"Fuck off."

[delirious-donna]

Atta Girl [Toji Fushiguro]

Toji has a debt to collect and you just happen to be along for the ride as his new partner. He has no need for a partner, not unless you plan on putting that smartass mouth to better use?

pairing: Toji Fushiguro x female reader

warnings: face fucking, mean Toji, light asphyxiation, rough blowjob, light degradation, mentions of blood on clothes, implied violence (not detailed and reader is not harmed in any way), cum swallowing, if this looks familiar it's a touched up version of something I wrote last year!

Masterlist

You didn’t think you could possibly miss the bickering of earlier, the yells of indignation at your mere presence, but it was far more preferable to the heavy silence of right now. Oppressive and sinister, even your measured breathing sounded deafening to your ears.

Toji Fushiguro regarded you with the dead eyes of a merciless killer, devoid of emotion and not even a smirk present on his scarred lips, it was terrifying. 

Of course, you had been unlucky enough to be partnered with the one man famed for being a lone wolf. A man that had grumbled and downright growled at you like an animal whilst you had both sat idling in the car. His chin rested against his broad palm, elbow braced on the sill of the door and he refused to meet your eye, not that you were trying particularly hard.

“Who the fuck said I needed any help? Stupid motherfuckers sending me some shitty piece of ass as backup… the fuck I need backup for?”

You hadn’t known which part to be more offended by; the insinuation that you couldn’t hold your own or the comment about you being a piece of ass. Pointing out that two were better than one had fallen on deaf ears, riling you to the point that insults were hurled like bladed weapons between the two of you.

With the air conditioning cranked to the max in a poor attempt to lower the temperature from your heated exchange, you swept your gaze over the infamous debt collector. Known for never losing a mark, always retrieving the goods and often in the most gruesome of ways, it was impossible to deny that he was hot. You never could hide your feelings and even as fucking pissed as you were at him, it was still more than evident that you were interested. 

Toji was exactly your type, and that was the biggest problem because you had a thing for assholes. The type of man that would only ever call you things like “sweetheart” or “darling” for the sole purpose of avoiding the possibility of uttering the wrong name or worse, forgetting it altogether.

Men that wanted one thing, and it wasn’t like you were some innocent flower, but it’d be nice to be held once in a while after having your cunt split open and your make-up ruined by the steady flow of tears and saliva.

A basic white tee stretched taut across his upper torso and it only highlighted how strong Toji was, the cotton did very little to hide the definition of his chest and the cut of his strong abdominals. What might it be like to have the chance to ride those tawny abs? Thick veins ran the length of his forearms, curving over the bulge of his biceps and his hands looked like they could crush a windpipe with little effort.

Why did he have to be so fucking attractive? Why were you thinking with your pussy and not your brain? The man that you had known for all of five minutes had insulted you more times than you could draw breath, yet here you were, wet and horny.

Perhaps this was the reason your judgement lapsed. Too fogged by lust and decadent fantasies to see the ambush, and it had almost cost you your life. A job that had meant to be a cakewalk turned into a shoot out and honestly, it would have been your own fault if the worst had happened.

You were thankful that Toji had been there, that he had even bothered to shield you from the brunt of the attack and struck back with such deadly precision and fervour that you would swear he had otherworldly powers.

A choked thank you caught fast in your throat, wary of how icy his expression was whilst you took in the white tee that was now caked in drying blood and worse. A streak of crimson ran the length of his face and you wondered if he had been hurt and you simply hadn’t noticed in the carnage of the moment.

You reached out to cup his face, an instinct to care for him burning you alive but he caught your wrist before you could touch his cheek. Prominent callouses rubbed at your soft skin, the roughened texture a stark contrast and one you enjoyed more than you were willing to admit.

“What the hell are ya playing at?” he yelled, forcing a meek squeak from your mouth as you jerked back from being grabbed and how angry he sounded at you.

“You’re hurt. I was…” your voice trailed away under the scrutiny of his cold, penetrating stare. A vein throbbed in the side of his thick neck and you watched it, unable to maintain eye contact with him. You were wilting faster than a flower caught in a heatwave.

“Where’s your shitty attitude gone, huh? Lost your bark now that I had to save your sorry ass? Told you I didn’t need a goddamn partner. Nothing but fuckin’ trouble.”

Toji tossed your captured hand back into your lap, ripping down the sun visor to stare at his bloody reflection in the mirror with a heavy frown. You watched him covertly, or so you hoped. It was wrong to continue finding him sexy, especially dripping in blood but it only fed that primitive image you liked so very much. It suited him to look so dangerous and capable of violence at the drop of a hat. It kept you on your toes, never daring to find his presence comforting for fear that would be the moment he finally struck.

“I know you like whatcha see, princess, keep staring and imma do something ‘bout it,” Toji threatened, fixing his gaze on you through the reflective surface of the mirror.

You squirmed. You blushed. You felt downright stupid. Embarrassment burned in your chest, turned you petulant once more and your sassy tongue returned with a bow.

“Yeah right. Like I’m interested in a slick motherfucker that has no respect for anyone. I’d rather suck on a cactus!”

Toji was a hair’s breadth away from snapping. There you went running that fucking mouth again. The mouth that had done nothing but snark since he had picked you up earlier that morning. It didn’t matter that it was an attractive mouth, plump lips that would look even better kiss swollen and a tongue that he would like to tangle with. None of that mattered when you couldn’t hold your own just like he had predicted.

Venom laced his every movement, acid burning in his veins as he raked your body without a care in the world for masking his action. You were pretty, a firecracker personified and he wanted to show you how he shut up little girls like you.

He had wanted to fuck the brat out of you since the moment he had laid eyes upon you. He was still pissed at being told he had to have a partner on this job but perhaps taking you would be the reward for swallowing that bitter pill.

Having to actively protect someone other than himself, and with no monetary reimbursement on top of it, he was beyond pissed and you’d know about it soon enough.

Toji moved faster than you could possibly comprehend, a bloodied hand wrapping around the slender column of your throat. Thick fingers squeezed down, your supply of air drastically reduced until you were gasping and choking.

His free hand worked at his belt, never taking his penetrating stare away from your flustered face. Toji smirked in the knowledge that he was indeed correct, you were a slut for this kind of rough treatment. Cheeks warm, eyes glossy and rather than clawing at his hand for freedom, you were clinging to him with a heaving chest. Every inhale a struggle that parted your lips further and further.

“Not so fucking chatty now, are ya? I’ve got an even better idea of how to keep that mouth from spouting venom,” he hissed at you.

Your eyes grew impossibly wide as Toji’s girthy cock slapped up against his abs, shirt pushed out of the way whilst he worked on freeing himself. The tip was a deep angry scarlet, weeping thick pearls of silvery precum. A prominent mushroom head with a ridge that made your mouth salivate and twin stark veins running the length of the underside of his shaft.

He pumped it almost lazily whilst his hold on your throat relaxed, his hand moving to the back of your head and you found that you were inching closer and closer to what you could only describe as his pussy ruining dick. The mere thought of that monster forcing your walls apart was enough for a salacious moan to roll past your lips, much to his amusement.

“That’s better. Knew you were a filthy little thing, now then. Suck it good and I’ll consider fucking you like you want.”

There was no second given to contemplate his request, not a chance at being able to brace yourself for what was to come. Your lips barely parted in time for his sticky tip to slip past.

Groaning at the heavy, musky taste of his skin and mingling arousal, you lapped at him like an eager little kitten. His grip shifted to trap your hair around his fist, giving an experimental tug that lifted you momentarily and caused you to whine in protest. Toji’s dark laughter rumbled through his chest, pushing you back down and forcing more of his cock between your lips.

Toji let his head fall back for a moment, the relief of your wet and wanton mouth cooling the very worst of his fiery temper. You really were very cute, sucking on his tip like it’s the first cock you’ve ever sucked and he couldn’t help himself from lifting his hips to push further into your mouth.

Your lower half moved to crouch on the passenger seat, hips wiggling from side to side and he knew exactly what was on your mind, but first, you’d have to earn it. There was never a chance of reward without hard work.

Reclining his seat, Toji hummed at the sensation of your tongue exploring and learning his length. Your tongue flattened wide to run up and down his length before switching to a speared point to flick into the weeping slit and lave around the ridge of his cockhead.

You’re good, almost too good. He groaned deep in his throat when your cheeks suction further and those wide eyes blink up into his face. You’d be fucking smiling if you could and that only made him grit his teeth in irritation, grinding down on his molars.

“Think you're such a clever cocktease, dontcha? This ain't your first cock but I bet it's the first that'll ruin you like you really want.”

With those words, Toji tightened his grip around your hair. His free hand pinched into your cheeks to halt the rhythmic bobbing of your head. Terrified eyes snapped to his face and he only smiled, that cold deadly mask back in place and the stretch of his scarred lips turned your blood icy.

His hips snapped upward, fucking into your mouth and forcing his fat cock deep into your throat to bully past the soft tissue at the back of your mouth. You gagged around him, not a hint of oxygen getting past the blockage that was his dick. Air rushed through your nose and for a second you were worried that he’d pinch it shut, but he didn’t. 

Falling back with a roll of his head along his shoulders, those sinfully dark eyes watched the thick viscous strands of saliva and arousal drip from your mouth with nothing but amusement on his face. There was only a second of reprieve to let you cough and swallow down air desperately before Toji plunged back into you. Spit bubbled at the corners of your lips, drooling slowly towards your chin and he wiped a finger through the mess to press into his mouth with a hum of satisfaction.

His pace was punishing and you knew it would be the same if he were to fuck your drooling cunt. Every stroke deepened until your nose was pressed right against his stomach, the muscles contracting wildly and the coarse hairs of his pelvis scratched at your face. He held you there and you clawed at his thick muscular thighs, begging for release but also knowing that he was imminently close to release. 

With cock twitching, a groan of pleasure sounded from his chest and the first waves of his sticky cum shot down your abused throat. Toji drew his hips back with a hiss, slapping his sensitive cock atop your pink tongue and painting it white. His bloodied hand pumped his shaft, milking it clean of everything he had whilst you could only blink through heavy tears and try not to swallow it before he finished.

Toji admired the sea of cum upon your tongue as well as your flushed cheeks with tears rolling down and your ruined mascara. He liked you just like this, preferred you silent with his load in your mouth. Maybe he would keep you, you’d be a real treat to break completely.

“Atta girl, swallow it all and c’mere. I’ve got plans for you…”

[hellfirenacht]

Reader ==> Have Lunch With Hellfire Club

Isekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<<--- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Fic Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

Chapter Summery: You sneak into Hawkins High to have lunch with Hellfire Club.

Tags: Eddie and Reader, sfw, Reader is on her period, reader is also just a little horny and touch starved but nothing really happens with that.

Reader ==> Have Lunch With Hellfire Club

"Ow'' You hissed, laying your head down on the cool table. You had been doubled over for 10 seconds and most of the club looked at you with concern.

"Uh... You good, Lipton?" Jeff asked.

You winced, from both the cramp and what he'd called you. Why did no one at this school use first names? It was already hard enough responding to a false name to begin with, even after memorizing the information on your new kinda-fake ID card. Thanks, Murray.

"Just dying. It's fine, I'll live." You groaned, and forced yourself to sit up and look down the table at Eddie, passed Mike and Dustin. "Got any painkillers?" You asked.

"None that would help you." Eddie shrugged.

"Ah, lovely." You laid your head back down as another cramp shot through your uterus.

It was the last day of school before Hawkins High went on fall break. You had snuck over to the school to have lunch with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire Club. Currently, all of you were sitting outside, enjoying one of the last warm days before the cold set in. Out here, none of the teachers would see you all, and even if they did, they wouldn’t take note of one extra person who shouldn’t be on school grounds anyway. Besides, it’s not like it was your first time sneaking into the school, as it had become a habit over the past few weeks as you made yourself a part of Hellfire. 

By this time next week you’d be set up in the small trailer on the opposite end of the same trailer park that Eddie lived. Just a few more days and you could finally move out of Benny’s and you could stop dealing with stupid jocks and bugs and all the other bullshit that came with being a squatter.  

"What's wrong with you?" Asked Gareth.

"Alphabetically or chronologically?” your voice was deadpan and muffled from being pressed against the old picnic table. “And how much time do you have?" 

You wondered briefly what “chronologically” even meant with you. Would you start chronologically in a direct timeline starting in 1895? Or maybe you’d start at the year you were born and loop back around. 

"She can't be in too much pain if she's still a smartass," snorted Jeff.

"You're laughing. A party member is bleeding to death and you're laughing." The cramp subsided and you sat up again.

"Gross." Muttered Gareth.

"I bleed for days at a time and survive. Get on my level" you hissed.

"Level 5?" Jeff shot back. "You're still behind us, even with Henderson's help."

"Motherfucker I swear-"

"Hey now, no need to fight" Dustin piped up, looking between everyone with concern. "We're all stressed because of midterms, we don't need to take it out on each other."

You closed your mouth and backed down. You didn’t mind the occasional fight with Gareth, honestly you almost enjoyed it when he picked a fight with you because it meant you could blow off some steam. But Dustin was currently your only real friend, and you weren’t going to risk pissing him off. That kid was the only one to try and figure out how you ended up here anyway. 

Plus, he’d been running some one on one adventures with you between Hellfire meetings. With Eddie insisting that all new players start at level 1 no matter what the party was at, Dustin had convinced him to let him do some smaller adventures to help you try and catch up with everyone else. Sometimes Mike and Lucas would even join in. 

"Just ignore me." You sighed. "I'll live even if it kills me." You looked at the uneaten sandwich in front of you. The idea of eating it made you feel gross even if you were hungry. You grabbed it and tossed it down the table in front of Eddie who looked at you with a cocked eyebrow.

"Don't want it. You eat it." you mumbled, forehead against the table again. You were starting to feel like you should have just stayed at Benny’s until it was actually time for Hellfire.

"You gonna be okay to play tonight?" Eddie asked. "Or do you need us to find a sub for you?"

You shook your head. "I'll be there." You promised. "I'll just hit up Robin or someone for some aspirin before the game and I'll be fine. Might not be the most talkative-"

"That'd be a first." Muttered Jeff.

You flipped him off. "I'll be there. I can still roll dice as well at anyone here."

Eddie grinned. "Good, and I'm not gonna go easy on any of you tonight."

"Do you ever?" Mike laughed.

"Yeah, you've always been tough on us, but Cult of Vecna has been your most sadistic campaign yet." agreed Jeff.

"That's because this is my year." Eddie said. "I'm gonna graduate and I'm going out with a bang." Eddie drummed on the table with his hands, revved up now. The vibrations of his drumming echoed through your head and you sat up again.

He stood up, the sandwich left forgotten for the moment. You watched him, and the way he moved was like a full-on rainstorm. Eddie only ever seemed to have two modes, 'on' and 'off'.

He was very much on now.

There was a fire in his eyes that had burned you for the past month since you'd been invited to Hellfire. Your initial attraction to a fictional character turned coworker had burst into a full blown genuine crush. In the autumn air, his cheeks were flushed red from the cold and his natural excitement, and his hair was flying everywhere. Even with Eddie circling the table as he bragged about his campaign to the members your heart felt like it might leap out of your chest, distracting you from the other organs inside you that were ripping themselves apart.

A firm hand grasped you at the crook of your neck, and you tensed slightly at Eddie's touch, your mind blanked for a moment as he made physical contact with you.

Eddie was... Very handsy. He wasn't afraid to grapple, wrestle, grab, and generally put his hands on his fellow Hellfire members. Eddie had picked up Dustin and Mike by the shirt collars and pushed them more times than you had bothered counting. 

This however, was the first time he had laid a hand on you. You held your breath as you tried to ignore the shiver that slid down your spine and into your core. You didn’t dare let anyone see that this had any effect on you. 

‘Not the time, self.’ you scolded yourself.

Eddie gave you a shake, which changed that warmth in your core to a vague sense of nausea. 

“Please don’t shake me right now.” you groaned. Your guts were not interested in physical movement right now. Your legs were already nearly constantly sore from biking everywhere. 

To Eddie’s credit, he did stop. His hand was still firm against you though, and you could feel the cold metal of one of his rings against your skin.

“See this one,” he gave you one more shake, the asshole. “This one is so metal that even though she probably should retreat tonight she’s still willing to show up for us.”

The compliment made your heart swell and the air didn’t feel so brisk as your own cheeks warmed up. You tilted your head back to look at him with surprise; Eddie didn’t hand out compliments too lightly with the club. He was always so straight forward, firm. He wouldn’t say anything unless he meant it. 

“I’ve always shown up when it mattered.” you said quietly, flashbacking (flash forwarding?) just a split second to a group of friends from the future. Not that it mattered, I guess. What was that??

The hand slid off of you, and a sense of emptiness echoed through your chest and at the loss of the warmth and pressure. You shoved down the lump in your throat by taking a long gulp of water. You had been here for nearly 2 months, and that had been the first bit of physical contact you had with anyone outside of a small scrap with Murrey or a handshake with someone, or your literal run in with Steve Harrington. 

One small touch, and you felt like you were falling apart. You were really starting to be sick of this feeling. 

Eddie sat back down and pulled out the sandwich you had offered him and you watched it disappear in 4 bites. 

“Jesus Eddie, did you even taste that?” asked Mike, and to be fair it was a valid question. 

“Didn’t need to, it was edible. Thanks, Lipton” 

“Why do you all keep calling me that?” you asked, looking around the table. 

“What, ‘Lipton’?” Mike asked. “I don’t know, it’s just something we do here.”

“Could... you please not call me that? Just call me by my name please. Or ‘Dipshit’. Or ‘Hey You’ or ‘That one girl in Hellfire’. Anything else.”

“You’re barely in Hellfire.” Gareth grumbled, flicking a chip crumb off the table and onto the dirt below. Gareth had been nice enough the first night you showed up for Hellfire, but then the more you hung around the less he seemed to like you. You’d deal with that later.

Eddie looked over at you, his wide brown eyes meeting yours and he said your name. 

The back of your neck prickled at the sound of your name on his lips. You wanted him to say it again. 

‘Not the fucking time, self’ You scolded yourself again. You had so many bigger issues than a guy with pretty brown eyes and a chipped front tooth that made your stomach explode in butterflies. 

Oh, who the fuck were you kidding? You did not. In fact, he was absolutely the main problem that you were going to have to deal with in a few months. If he wasn’t planning on being a hero, maybe you could actually sleep at night. 

You gave him a small nod, and wondered if you looked as tired as you felt. 

“Sorry, it's an old habit.” Dustin said. “We’ll stick with your first name”

“Thank you.” you said, relaxing. You looked at the time, not long until lunch was over. Then two more hours, then school was over. Hellfire started at four, a half hour after school ended. That gave you a few hours to just wander around aimlessly until school ended. 

You zoned out for the rest of lunch, poking at the food you had brought until it was all passed along to Eddie. He never did bring enough food for himself anyway. 

When the bell rang you took your time gathering your stuff up as most of the club started back towards the school building. 

As you were about to turn and head in the opposite direction towards the woods. something grabbed you by the shoulder and moved you behind a tree before you realized what was happening. Eddie stood in front of you, hands on your upper arms, head tilted with that look of intense concern on his face. You found yourself stiff under that gaze, thrown off by how he had suddenly grabbed you. 

“Eddie....?”

“I meant what I said, earlier.” he said. “There’s no shame in retreating. If you feel like shit, you don’t have to come.”

“I want to.” you said. “I- I really do, I promise. I don’t want to let you down.” It took you three seconds to realize that you had said ‘you’ and not ‘everyone’ and heat burned your cheeks. 

Eddie put a hand on your forehead. “You’re warm and you look like.. You look fucking tired.” 

“....Thank you, Eddie. Just what every woman wants to hear from a man.” Your voice was deadpan. “I’ll be fine. I just need to take an aspirin and maybe take a small nap before Hellfire.”

His brown eyes bore into yours and you wondered how easily he could see through you. “Come on, you can take a nap in my van.” Eddie didn’t bother giving you a chance to answer before dragging you around the school, towards the parking lot.   

It took a moment for his words to register in your brain as you followed him. "....Huh?"

"I have some spare blankets and a pillow back there. I crash in the back all the time. Might not be the... Cleanest or the most comfortable but it's safe. Not like anyone's interested in messing with the freaks van" He said, his hand sliding down your arm to grab your hand. 

Eddie was holding your hand. Shit shit shit shit shit- 

Your brain caught up to you. "Ah, yeah that would be really nice actually." you said. "I probably really need the short rest of I'm gonna survive you tonight."

You wondered if Eddie realized that he had given your hand a squeeze. "Get those spell slots back, you're gonna need them." 

"Thank you, I really do appreciate it.” And you did, passing out in his van was definitely safer than passing out in the woods somewhere until Hellfire started.

Eddie looked over at you and smiled. "Everyone in Hellfire has crashed in that van at least once. It's basically a right of passage to help break in the newbies."

You couldn't stop your mouth from running. "You break in all the newbies in the back of your van?" You looked up at him with a teasing half grin. "Damn, this really is a cult." ‘Not. The. Fucking. Time. Get your head out of the gutter please.’ 

Eddie snorted and shook his head. "You'd be surprised what's happened in the back of that van."

"Sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll?" you offered. ‘What did I just tell myself??’

"Two out of three. I'll let you guess which ones." 

The bell rang and you jumped. "Shit, you’re gonna be late to class.” You looked over at Eddie, worried about his getting in trouble. 

“It’s just gym, no one will care if I’m late” he said. “I don’t like being the first in the locker room anyway. Are you sure you're okay?" Eddie asked, looking you over. "I'm not trying to be a dick but you really look rough."

"I feel rough. I'll be fine." You promised. "I just need a nap. You said it yourself, I'm metal. Can't exactly let everyone down when you called me that."

"You're either very brave or very stupid." Eddie said, opening the back door to the van, giving a sweeping gesture to motion you inside. 

You tossed your backpack in first before crawling in. To your surprise Eddie hopped in with you and closed the door. 

"Just need to move some things around. As a Hellfire member and your DM, you know that what happens in this van stays here." Eddie's eyes narrowed slightly and you nodded dumbly, wondering if he was aware of how some of the things he was saying sounded. "Good."

He pulled up a section of the floor where a spare tire should be, and pulled out a small box. You leaned against the back of the front seat, closing your eyes. Whatever Eddie was doing, it wasn't your business, not when he was being so nice. You really thought you had completely blown it a few weeks ago when you first went over to his home, but by some power he kept letting you hang around. Being coworkers probably helped. 

With your eyes closed, you breathed in deeply and took in the scent of the van. There was a lingering smell of weed and cigarettes, mixed with the natural smell of him and a hint of some sort of air cleaner to mask the smells. It could have been much worse, you found that your tolerance for the scent of narcotics had gone up a lot since being here.  

Your body was already starting to relax, knowing that rest was coming soon. You had been running around Hawkins all week between shifts and doing your own investigation work of the town, looking for anything that could help you come Spring Break. 

Something soft hit your head and you opened your eyes. Eddie had tossed you two blankets and a pillow. "They were washed recently." He said. 

"Eddie you- can you come wake me up before Hellfire?" You asked, feeling the texture of one of the blankets. It was worn and thin but nice against your hands. "I don't have a watch or an alarm." Your watch had died two days ago and you wouldn’t be able to get a new one until Bev paid you again.

"Don't worry, I'll need to come back here anyway. I'm keeping my notes for today in the front seat. Don't peek. I'll know if you do, and there will be consequences." Eddie's tone was serious as he tossed his Hellfire notes in the front seat. He put his whole being into this campaign, and you wouldn't dare betray that trust that was starting to form between the two of you. 

"Wouldn't dream of it, I doubt I could read your chicken scratch handwriting anyway." you said and he grabbed the pillow from you and smacked it on your head again with a laugh.

"Stan tried once. Once. He learned his lesson after that. He didn't even read the right notes, he ended up with an attempt at my English homework." 

Stan. Another name from his past that never was in the show. You had already accepted that Eddie was real, even if it had left you spiraling for a good two days. But there were still small moments to just how real he was. Hellfire Club existed before now. Eddie had friends before this version of Hellfire. Each new piece of himself that he offered you was tucked away in your mind, a reminder of what you were really working for. You wished you could offer the same. 

It was comfortable in the back of the van with him like this. You could count on one hand the amount of times you had been alone together for longer than five minutes, not counting your shifts together at The Hideout . There was a part of you that was still nervous about being with him, this person who shouldn't exist with you. 

Eddie looked at his watch. "Business calls. Get some rest, I'll be back for you before Hellfire." 

"I'll try not to die in your van."

The van shifted as he scooted over to the door, opening it and letting in the late September air for a moment. 

“Night" He said before closing the door behind him, leaving you alone. 

Reader => Take A Nap In Eddie’s Van

You grabbed the blankets and started adjusting them. Thankfully there were no mysterious stains on any of them, but the pillow was very much a 'boy pillow' which was flat and old and offered zero support. But it was his and it smelled like him and it was... More clean than expected. Not like you had any room to complain. 

You laid back and took a few slow breaths. You didn't expect to actually get any sleep but some time to just lay down and relax was enough for now. You were sure that Eddie would tire you out again tonight-

‘With the campaign you fucking pervert.’ You scolded yourself, trying to ignore the warmth in her stomach again from just his hand on your arm and shoulder. Hellfire was always very high energy, and Eddie's stamina was unwavering. As a Dungeon Master- no fuck, not that kind of dungeon master-!

What was wrong with you today? Being on your period and the stress must be catching up to you. You were starting to think you needed to get laid. Or maybe convince Steve or Robin to loan your their Family Video discounts to rent from the back room- 

No. You were NOT going to hit up a jock and his lesbian best friend for porn. You didn’t even have a VHS player. 

You were so fucking touch starved. 

You shut your eyes tight and tried to clear your mind of any perverted thoughts. It was pleasant in his van in a weird way. Cool, and parked in the shade, and just dark enough to let your mind shutdown slowly. Maybe you’d get a contact high, but you didn't know enough about drugs to know and at this point you were too afraid to ask. 

You tossed and turned for a bit, trying to get comfortable enough to just relax. The van's floor was hard, and it took a half hour to find a position (with doubling your backpack with the pillow) where your brain could shut down fully. 

It felt like you had just closed your eyes when a knock came from outside. You jumped and sat up quickly, fumbling in the sheets to cover up before remembering that you were still fully clothed. 

"Wake up, Sunshine, Hellfire starts in 15 minutes!" The van door opened and Eddie smiled at you. "Hand me my bag"

You reached for his bag and pushed it over, shaking your head to reoriented yourself. Right, Eddie's van. Naptime. 

"Last chance to back out." Eddie said. "Say the word and I'll walk away and drive you home after Hellfire."

"I'm okay!" You said, not knowing if you were going to crash at Benny’s or in a basement. "I actually feel a lot better after laying down for a bit. Just let me use the bathroom and I'll be all good for tonight, I promise." 

Eddie reached out to take your wrist and help you out of the van, and you stumbled slightly before readjusting. Eddie grabbed your arms to make sure you didn’t eat shit on the pavement.

"I'm good, you just threw me off. I'm fine, Eddie." 

Eddie answered by letting you go and closing the van door. "You know the house rules. Anyone late gets a penalty at my discretion."

"Yes, Dad" you rolled your eyes and the two of you made your way back to the school. Once inside you stepped away and slipped into the bathroom to freshen up and readjust your clothing and pee. After splashing some cold water on your face and cleaning up you did feel a lot better. 

"You actually showed up" Gareth said as you made her way down the stairs. 

"Get on my level Gareth." you said, taking your seat at the table. 

"Feel any better?" Asked Dustin. 

"Yeah, much better." You pulled out your folder and set your mini fig on the table. "Eddie let me crash in his van for a bit."

The overhead light went out and with a click a single lamp that hung above the table flickered on. Eddie was now seated in his 'throne', his side of the table now set up. 

"If we're done chatting now gentleman, lady" he nodded at you. "Last we left the party...”

Notes: I haven't forgotten about this series! I feel like I am constantly writing and yet have noting to show for it lol

So what would you like to see Reader do next?

Tumblr User ==> Leave A Suggestion

Dividers by @strangergraphics

[joyswonderland1108]

This is so fucking tiring.

Notice how my posts keep on being rants despite me trying to see the bright side of things? But the way this goddamn fandom treats both Jimin and Jungkook is absolutely disgusting (Again i’m not talking about the good ones out there, y’all know yourselves, kudos to you).

No wonder solos hate “OT7″ asses, i don’t condone any “solo’ness” but this fucking fandom gives them every right to hate their guts. Imagine loving a person so very dearly and a group of people who are supposed to treat that person with respect actually treats them like shit, how the fuck can you like these people or respect them. How do these oh so-called OT7s enjoy calling out solos when they can’t even call out themselves on some bullshit they pull out, learn to admit your own flaws before seeing other people’s flaws. 

Not only did people completely fail to see Jimin’s pov through his album, completely denied the symbolism in it, pulled lots of homophobic comments from their asses because they just can’t fucking accept that his album was queer-coded, wanted so bad to make “Like Crazy” a break up song when Jimin himself explained that it wasn’t inspired 100% by the damn movie’s story, ignoring completely that the boy made a whole album about his struggles and frustrations, something deep something that needed an open-mind and lots of understanding.

But now they’re completely ignoring the fact that “Seven” is a fucking single not just some images. Remember my post about Tiktok Army? Well they’re still at it. I keep on clicking on “not interested” but the way these videos are just so endless that they still pop up on my fyp.. Again i’m not linking any Tiktok i’ll post screenshots feel free if you want to consult the page but honestly i don’t want to give them clout

It’s all about the MV, explicit version, JK was topless in the ONE picture that dropped, y’all thirsty motherfuckers can’t even bother be excited for the actual single, and this is not even the worse Tiktoks out there, everybody is more concerned about it being explicit and having a woman in the MV, they’re all like “Oh well he was topless in the schedule picture that dropped which means the MV will be sexy, JK will be naked, JK will be grinding on Sohee” MOTHER.FUCKERS! Do y’all even care about JK? 

For all i know y’all smartasses, Jimin’s concept photos had him topless too, or specifically naked under a blazer but he was NOT in “Like Crazy” and in “Set me free pt2″ he was because he had a whole ass poem written on his chest, now what? Are we going to pretend this never happened? I swear it’s sickening they’re not even allowing us to enjoy the build up until July 14th, i try to distract myself but it ends up being there on my face no matter what. 

And to answer @milan1013 on your reblog about the live

There’s nothing wrong with the tiktok but the caption got me, because tell me why tf are people now shipping JK with Mingyu from a damn less than 2min Live knowing damn well these two are very dear friends. Again, i will say it again and again and FUCKING AGAIN!!!! JK is shipped with every living being, everything and everyone that breathes his way is shippable with JK that at some point do people even see him as a human being or.. ?

Sure it’s fun when it’s innocent all jokes ha ha but God fucking dammit the fact that out of an MV of a song that neither one of them even dropped, he’s already shipped with an actress and from a damn mini live he’s shipped with his friend now seriously where the fuck are we going, it’s becoming less and less fun each day to be in this fandom..

[marinerainbow]

I have an ask!! (As always, ignore this if you want to ^^ )

What would the Toon Patrol's reaction be to, first of all- Herman disrespecting Poppy. And second of all, to Poppy SWEARING at Herman?? XD

Omg XDDD I love this ask so much

First of all, I'm gonna just automatically assume Poppy is buddies with the weasels in this ask. Because otherwise they wouldn't really care about some stranger getting disrespected by a baby, or blowing up on said baby 😅 (though maybe feel just a tiiiny amount of respect for said stranger standing up to a popular toon? But not enough to be swayed either way)

Ok so... They ain't happy. Not in the slightest 😅 even if she isn't actually in the gang, she is still a part of the gang. Even if they don't get along all the time, if you fuck with any of them, you gotta see the rest of them. That's how they roll. Granted, Herman is too known where they can't exactly do anything to him without consequences... But that doesn't make them any less upset. Might actually peeve them off a bit more XD

I'm just imagining somebody, probably Wheezy, has to hold Psycho back from doing anything- who is probably barking and snarling at Herman like a damn dog. Stupid gets tasked with picking Poppy up and getting her away from the disrespect, and comforting her if Herman did anything particularly mean. And Greasy and Smartass get to intimidate Herman and basically tell him that this transgression won't go without consequences. I'm not sure what they'll do, but I don't want to find out 😅

(I doubt Poppy is Herman's type, especially since she doesn't tolerate his crap. But can you imagine how worse they'd react if Herman actually started creeping on Poppy (Especially if this is one of the ships timeline)??? Holy crap-)

Now. Them reacting to Poppy swearing at Herman? Oh man XDDD

Smartass feels a small sense of pride for her. This usually passive woman finally explodes on somebody! And better yet, it was deserved (I doubt he cares about that, but he knows that at least Poppy cares so XD). Smarty is standing there, a bit shocked, before smiling and acting like a proud big brother like he's been training her this whole time how to yell at people XDDD

Psycho is also proud of Poppy. Even more so then Smartass is XDDD regardless if they are dating or are just friends, I can imagine Psycho really really really wants to see Poppy go feral on somebody. Especially since Poppy never blows up like the people he lives with can. So yes, he will hug Pops and tell her everything is ok... But right now, he's standing by the sidelines and holding up a camera- 'cause he knows the sight of feral Poppy are rare occurances, so he's capturing the moment while he still can XD

Wheezy however, is watching all this go down like a responsible parent friend would; staring at Poppy slack jawed and wide-eyed, wondering if what he just heard was real. He's not gonna get mad at her; for one, she's a grown woman and can curse however much she likes, but Herman also had it coming XD but he is concerned for Poppy. He knows that she is not going to be happy with herself later. Not to mention that this is definitely a sign that she needs some quiet time. So Wheezy would probably step over, offer to take her away from the source of her anger and give her a safe place to cool down... While also glaring at Herman and blaming him for this XDDD

Greasy is also just... Shocked about this. Might do that cartoon thing where he rubs his ears and blinks before looking back at the scene; did Poppy swear?? Did she say fuck!? Did she call somebody a motherfucker!?!? He doesn't even care that this somebody happens to be a famous star. The fact that Poppy swore at a living organism is enough to stop him in his tracks. But once he gets over his shock, I can see him clapping Poppy on the shoulder or something, regardless if she's horrorfied with herself, and acting like she just won the Nobel prize. Greasy is not a good influence XDD

And poor Stupid is the one that's the most scared for Poppy right now XD she's a nice lady! She's like a sister to him! And the mean baby made her cuss like his actual brother does on the daily. That isn't right. This has to be fixed. I can see Stupid hugging Poppy close, even when she insists she's better now and apologizing for her blow up earlier, and he's just trying to comfort her and tell her that she doesn't have to talk to the rude actor again. And if she does, he won't let her talk to him alone ^^

[the-autism-album]

A bit confused Abt this . Motherfucker in my gym class who talks big about tech stuff and being in the computer repair class who was trying to tell me shit about my laptop, of which he doesn't know the model or brand or really anything, generally acting like a smartass ok right yea . It was whatever I just needed a thumb drive from him . He said win10 home was already on the drive so the win10 iso I had wasn't necessary . When what I was doing didn't end up working I looked thru the drive out of curiosity and I swear to god it was just a fresh win10 install copy-pasted onto the drive . A little bit absurd

[ow-anteater]

Once again thinking about OW characters, swearing and vocab quirks and about to make that everyone else’s problem

If he’s even slightly tired and in a casual setting, Jack starts using ‘fuck’ and ‘fucking’ like they’re commas

Genji overuses the word ‘sure’ like there’s no tomorrow. Often tacked onto the front of sentences in conversation and kind of slurred down to a vague ‘shu’ kind of sound

Similarily, Tracer says ‘like’ and ‘you know?’ a lot

Gabriel is weirdly fond of ‘motherfucker’ for a guy who otherwise doesn’t swear much. It’s his go to ‘word I mutter under my breath before I yell at McCree for being a smartass’ 

Mercy has a bad habit of phrasing things like a question even if she isn’t asking. Moira, partially out of spite, makes a big deal out of drily answering her every time she does it

Most of OG overwatch has been friends for long enough for their vocabularies to rub off on one another. The most notable examples are how both Rein and Gabe call poeple ‘habibi/habibti’ and Ana sometimes mutters ‘Jesus Christ’ 

The worst example is how Ana has, on more than one occasion, called Fareeha ‘son of a bitch’

If Torb is struggling with a project, he starts muttering curses under his breath in a continuous stream. It can be hard to tell exactly what language it’s in sometimes

Lúcio and McCree both get loud if they’re excited. Lúcio also starts talking extremely fast 

Brigitte is the absolute king of calling people ‘dude’, ‘bro’, ‘man’ or ‘friend’ in pretty much every sentence

Ana rarely ever phrase anything as a command and generally uses the passive voice a lot. She’s a lot more likely to ask ‘shouldn’t you be doing x?’, ‘I think we should do x’ or ‘x, it might need your attention’ than straightforwardly demand you do it

Neiher Jack nor Jesse wants (or dares) to claim responsibility for how Gabriel has recently started saying ain’t

[kthynes]

the caller you have reached (chris evans x reader)

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

summary: chris was trying to drunkenly call the woman he loved and wanted to get back with but instead he reaches you, a shrink.

warning: swearing (sailor level), brief mentions of mental health

**IMPORTANT disclaimer: I won't be dabbling into the hard hitting topics of mental health in this short only because I'm not a certified health professional and so I can't be providing a written, unbiased, often characterized diagnosis towards any sort of mental health disorder because really, those types of sensitivities need proper care and output. With that being said, I do want to emphasize the notions of seeking help and not being afraid to seek help when needed. It's hard, but we all fight a battle and no battle is big or small or better or worse.

If my followers or readers do feel the need to privately chat with me, I'm here and I can you lend you an ear. Otherwise let's be kind and uplift another while we can. No harm in doing good and being better, that's for sure!

-end rant-

This short is dedicated to the following lovelies:

@princess-evans-addict

@mrs-djokovic

@slut-for-chris-evans

@saltyflowermakertaco

@bitchyslut99

@patzammit

@itskikiyooo

@maximeevansblog

Being a working adult is dreadful but the work you do is the most fulfilling kind of anarchy. You are a therapist, you work to heal and you work together with people who willingly reach out to you and your facility of care. There is that balance, the altering nuances in between that allows you to do what you do best. You advocate for good prosperity of mental health and accolade of teachable moments that fosters a safe space for your clients, not patients, but the people who deserve to be heard and not be medically categorized.

Your salubrious passion keeps you grounded. In your lifetime, you've seen the imperial impacts of poor mental health and it has been a detrimental drive in how you retreat and give back to a small found community.

"Okay." You exhale to yourself while leafing through another client chart. You're working off the clock, stuck in the renaissance of your homey office space while the outside world turns pitch black.

In the appropriate fields you jot down important takeaways from your last sit in session with heavy concertation and reasoning, you try to congregate a treatment plan all before you cellphone cries for you in venturous fashion.

"Hello?" You answer without checking the caller ID, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder so that way you could work and talk.

"Jenny!" The man boisterously shouts. "Jenny baby please talk to me! Let me make it up to you, let's just do this right, please. I'm fucked up here."

"I'm sorry but you have the wrong number." You infringe sounding like the posh, automated answering machine lady.

"Oh what the fuck Jenny — oh cah'mon don't do that, don't be like that baby." You re-verify a local number and it doesn't belong to anyone you know of. So you wonder who this man is but choose not to press further instead you tell him what is right from the knowing wrong.

"I'm not Jenny."

"Seriously?" He yells, forcing you to hold the phone away from your ear. "That can't be... This is—" He recites the number that is similar to yours but the last two digits are off.

"You got 42, not 53." It's an easy mistake to recall, a swipe of a drunken thumb could've mixed that up, so this time around, you're forgiving. Not that it happens often.

"Oh no. That's—" The mystery man trails, something about his voice discerns you, it's familiar but in a hindbrain way that you can't put a finger on. "Fuuuuuuuck."

"Wait hold on, hold up, is this Jenny's assistant, Nina?" You exhale sharply sometimes it takes more than one try and a side of convincing to get your point across and your passiveness was certainly to blame.

"No I'm not her assistant either."

"Then who the hell are you?" He exasperates. You make the snide mistake of telling him your name and he buffers for a bit.

"Oh. So you really aren't anyone of my concern then?"

"No." You mildly retort. "I wouldn't want to be anyways."

"Okay well I'm not sorry then because I'm here trying to reach my girlfriend and I can't get to her because I have you on the line being a smartass." With that accent of his you can tell he's a patriotic Bostonian. One of your own kind and that furloughs your need to engage in this mindless drivel, it wouldn't get you or him anywhere. At least that's what you tell yourself before shutting him down.

"Well then maybe you should learn to listen first, how about that?" You snap, dropping your pen before you note down angry nonsense into your actual work.

"Hey nowwww!" He yells as if he's trying to be Hank Kinsley.

"It's clear that you're drunk."

He brushes you off on the other end, enigmatic in what he wants you to know. "This is Chris Evans, you're talking to Chris-motherfucking-Evans, you hear?"

"I do now." You say tersely.

"Good." He huffs. "Good... Cause you know I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and this is what I get. This is what I seemingly deserve, god you women I swear..."

Your face changes. You don't agree to be a lending ear but somehow Chris forces you to hear him out.

"I told her Y/N. I TOLD her that I wasn't ready to take the next step but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her. And now she throws it back in my face by getting with some other guy she once dated back in high school. And somehow, I'm supposed to be ok with it and move on, as she tells me. How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?"

"I, um, I don't know what to tell you." You sigh somberly.

"Of course you don't!" His Boston twang begins to nerve you as there some remitting frequency of it. Hearing him obnoxiously go off, reminds you of all your shrewd New England exes who were his exact counterpart when soused. A ludicrous memory that you relive again with time and perfect harmony.

"Listen lady all I'm saying is that I fucked up. I know I did alright? I mean it doesn't take much denominational math and the plot of Lost in Translation to get that. I get it!"

Jesus. You whisper the lords name in vain as you lean your forehead against the palm of your hand while your elbow rested on top of the desk.

"So, let me get this straight, you think yelling at a random woman will help get further?" You question a little acutely for his liking.

"I don't know but it sure as hell takes off the heat, sweetheart." Something about a man calling you sweetheart grinds your gears and now your molars.

"Okay, alright, let's talk." You begin, sitting up a bit and tearing out a blank page from your memo pad; you were doing a late night consultation, a small hash out.

"Schuwaaaaa." Chris enunciates the word sure and to much of his mayhem, he’s sprawled out on the curbside, somewhere in the nowhere land of L.A. He contented but also upset and you were simply crashing his little pity party.

"What is it that you want from Jenny?" You professionally prod. "How about we start there."

"Wooooah, what is that we're doing here?” Chris gets mildly defensive with you. “I dunno you like that. If we're gonna talk then you'll have to get through my publicist first because right now I plead the fifth.”

You exhale a deep and fulsome breath. No one troubles you like him. It's sanctimoniously unnerving.

"I'm a shrink, my job isn’t meant to incriminate my clients well-being, or anyone else’s for that matter.” You address calmly. “So, if you do require some solicited advice then we can keep this call under strict confidence. You have my word, Mr. Evans and the paperwork that will follow shortly after this call.”

Silence. There is some shocking silence which is brief before you're catapulted with disbelief and more cackles. "Holy mother fucking shit. You're kidding me?"

"I can run you by my credentials if you’d like?” You mention stiffly.

"God I’ve reached a cuckoo hotline!" Wrong. That's a horrible thing to say and you'd think a man like him would've been more sensitive about his choice of words, inebriated or not.

"Far from it."

"Tell me something, alright? How many grown, adult men come crying to you?" Chris is edging with curiosity even though his eyes are betrayingly reddened after crying into a bottle of Dewars 18. He doesn't make that known to you and you never cared to ask.

"Enough to know that they cry." You simply state.

"Huh. So this is just another Tuesday for you then.” Chris scoff, the bottle making it to his lips and then swishing back down again.

"Comes with the territory except I don't tolerate drunkenness." You motely add. "Can you keep the bottle aside for the time being? Just until we're done here."

"That's understandable and oh yeah sure, sure, I won't touch it." You can hear the glass bottle 'clink' when coming into contact with the pavement.

"Now tell me about Jenny." You softly inquire.

"What do you wanna know? How we fuck or how we met?" Chris giggles like a naughty school yard boy.

"How did you two meet?" You slam the words urgently, nearly spelling out the cause.

"Oh! Oh. We met on the job." Chris chuckles punitively.

"Okay and did you guys connect instantly or was there a slow build up?" You involuntarily took notes for any PR rep of his that wanted solid evidence that would preside this call, cover your bases and your poor ass along with it.

"Instantly. Our chemistry read was off the charts." He explains with a slight hiccup. "Sorry."

"Great. So it was more so a work relationship that later grew into something more correct?"

"Pretty much."

"So when did you start developing feelings for her?"

"Um I'd say..." Chris tucks his chin, burps and then excuses himself before continuing. "Just before we wrapped up filming. But then I think somewhere in between all that I realized that she was my kind of girl, my... better half."

"And what made you come to that realization?"

"Well for one she has this infectious laugh that would have you laughing with her, there's that sound of beauty and pureness to it. And then with that, there were all the little things she'd do for me that made me think, like damn she's the one, she's it for me and that for better or for worse, I'd need her more than she'd ever need me."

Chris gets sad and you feel for him. Your pen stops moving when you were about to prescribe him some mind memory exercises. He was human. Humans hurt. Humans make mistakes. Humans stray but they also love. That's all Chris did. He loved with all of his heart to not expect the same love in return.

"You know Chris, we don't always get the love we deserve and sometimes its sucks. Sometimes you wanna kick it back with a bottle of Dewars 18 and shake your fists in the air." Chris quietly perks up at your choice of alcohol that you didn't know he was forcefully downing. He fashions a small half smile that you don't see but hear faintly. "But there's also a time and a place and things happen, people come apart, people get together, people do people and there's that fine line of letting life run its uneven course."

"I mean you sometimes have to not be okay to be okay again and I know that from my many years of helpful healing. It gets okay, never fully better and I think that's just how it is. You acknowledge your pain, your trauma and then you go on while being mindful of that transition."

"Wow."

"Hey, um, look, I actually have to get going. But if you can, just down the rest of that bottle and get yourself home."

"Are you sure?" Chris gawks.

"I mean you were already halfway through and it's not like I can physically stop you, right? And besides this is what I'm prescribing to you. I want you to acknowledge your pain, drink away your sorrows and then smash that bottle so you can be relieved from that trauma and hurt. After that you need to fix up and start new, have a mature conversation with her, if you can and then have your feet hitting the ground again. Don't fall into the routine of heartbreak even if it becomes too hard, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good." You sniff and start to put things away. "I know you're a good guy Chris, from how you are on TV and in interviews, I'm amazed by how articulate you are. You have the right mindset so I have no doubts that you'll fall back in any way. But if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out, I might have to hand you off to another cohort but nonetheless it can be worked out even if it does feel like you might be sparring on your own. You'll get the help you need."

"Great, thanks." Chris responds in his conscious state of thought. He feels pathetic with himself and that doesn't have you galling over the fact, instead you let him be.

"Do you need me to order you an Uber? Cab? Call a friend for ya?" You laugh easily and Chris hears it clearly, smiling in return.

"An Uber would be nice. I'll try to share you my location."

"Sure, on me and that'd be great."

"Thanks."

"No problem... And your ride should be here in two minutes, just look out for Raul in black Elantra." You inform him after checking your phone.

"Nice."

"You have a goodnight now Chris."

"You too." The line cuts and you're given a piece of your life back. You gather your belongings, flip off the light switch and make your way home. There's some truth and some brokenness in every situation. You knew Chris was going to be OK even if he didn't consult you afterwards. For you, there was no need. He's a smart man and he proves this over a prolonged period of time when he finally finds himself back on the market and then eventually in a relationship with a faceless and very loving woman from his own hometown.

He was finally happy, making you serendipitously glad that you were the caller he had reached.

[stimmingandshifting]

streamer dr :)

im a smaller variety streamer, mowothman. i stream primarily story based games (i infodump about undertale), minecraft, and nonograms (in which i listen to something or just ramble or sometimes it’s just quiet). my fanbase is primarily other trans autistics. we have stim breaks. i pride myself on a personal connection with my audience, and often have very small streams where i just talk with chat and hang.

my closest friends are the four other people on the azalea smp, a wholesome smp with a little plot (might be more lore in the future thanks to trax) based around the cottagecore aesthetic and connection with nature and each other. all the creators are trans and most of us are autistic.

so the people who basically became my best friends and family:

Me: mothmanvibes, called moth. They/he, transmasc. I know my own personality writing it down makes me feel like a character instead of just another me. But I’ve been streaming for around a year now, got popular over minecraft tiktok where i just made dumb memes about how being a miner and a flower picker is wild because i just keep collecting things and then fucking dying. Newest member of asmp. Chill fanbase

AzaleaFlowers: he/him, trans man. Azalea, Az for short. Natural leader, calm, collected. flower crown with a blank expression. Fairly quiet, much better with a plan than not, posts on YouTube more than streaming because of that. Has a kill button on his desk for when things get too much and he has to end stream. Sort of underground but everyone that knows him LOVES him. Super chill fanbase, almost entirely trans and autistic, lots of fan interaction over tumblr. Met me through TikTok, commented “trans autistic miners” and we quickly bonded over shared passions and started streaming together. Az much prefers being on others streams than his own, so he’s on mine quite a bit. Dude I can’t express how much I love this guy he’s so chill the kind of person you could sit in silence with and not feel awkward. organizes everything

Shaber: she/her, nonbinary transfemme. Shae. The builder to my miner, platonic wife. My first friend besides az on the server, always helped me feel included and not lost. Small fanbase that would commit so many murders for her. She’s so nice she’s like “im going to make houses for my friends :)” and everyone even people who have never seen her content before swear their lives to her. I want to kiss her /p. yt is mostly build tutorials and vids of the asmp. i have not accurately explained how much i love shae she is the light of my life my best friend my favorite person. we’re both arospec and bad at differentiating attraction so like. are we dating? not to my knowledge but i don’t really care i love her very much

BeaBoi: they/he, transmasc. Bea. motherfucker /lh we have a sort of joking rivalry because we’re both the smartass they/he math gay but I would kill for them. sibling energy honestly this shit is a dumb bitch and i love him. makes fun of me for mining tons of shit and never using it but they rely on my redstone to make funky music contraptions so suck on that you fuck. Feral cottagecore. Only really got into the smp originally bc he’s long time friends with az, but genuinely loves it and brings an element of humor and lightheartedness.

abandonedtraintrax: they/xe, agender, trax. cryptid. knows fuckign everything about everyone. no stream schedule, they disappear for a month and then boom 10 hour stream. The adventurer. Online for 23 hours but no one sees xem but then there’s just one message in chat saying “i found another totem”. genuinely a very nice person, very quiet. Very dry humor, quiet in vc and then suddenly makes a comment that has everyone wheezing. the one making some vague sort of lore- living up to xir name, they’ve been making abandoned monuments and leaving little codes. Xe won’t even tell us. Their yt channel is mostly a series of videos of recounting the “history” of abandoned monuments and temples in one mc world. there are entire tumblr blogs dedicated to figuring that out

[waka-chan-out]

Haikyuu Swearing Headcanons

my brain was full of these so im sharing the wealth

content warning: swearing. obviously. that’s it.

Karasuno

Daichi: something about “damn” is really satisfying for him to say. when he’s really upset he’ll add a “goddamn” in front of every goddamn thing he says

Sugawara: frequently tells people to stop bitching. once told daichi “shut your whore mouth” and the team still doesn’t know how he survived

Asahi: really shy about swearing aloud but his internal dialogue is a constant stream of “shit shit shit shit”

Tanaka: titties

Nishinoya: motherfucker

Ennoshita: fuck. more specifically, fucker

Kinoshita: mostly negative self talk. like “you stupid piece of shit how could you do that now everyone thinks you’re a dumbass.” pls be kind to yourself sweet boy

Tsukishima: variants of “ass.” dumbass, smartass, etc.

Yamaguchi: also shy about swearing in front of other people, but get him alone with tsukki and he’s got a potty mouth

Kageyama: i’m sorry i just have to go with dumbass

Hinata: ass

Coach Ukai: ukai 🤝 ennoshita - use of the word fucker. i also feel like he’s a pussy man.

Takeda: doesn’t swear often, but when he does it’s one word like “damn” or shit”

Yachi: i cannot imagine her swearing ever i’m so sorry

Kiyoko: doesn’t swear much in daily life, but when she’s quoting someone she doesn’t hesitate and everyone’s brains are offline for 3-5 business days

Aoba Josai

Oikawa: doesn’t casually swear much but when he does he’s trying to make a point. phrases like “eat my ass” and “suck my dick” are quite common

Iwaizumi: pussy. i do not think i need to explain.

Matsukawa: motherfucker

Makki: makes up his own and purposefully mispronounces words. mattsun calls him a motherfucker? makki is countering with fothermucker. is also partial to the phrase “jesus christ on a bike” but the more frustrated he is the more elaborate and ridiculous the description of jesus and the mode of transportation get.

Kindaichi: doesn’t swear that often but when he does it’s usually a “shit” under his breath. panics if he things anyone heard him.

Kunimi: says more with his facial expressions than with his mouth but when he does it’s mostly insults. especially likes calling kindaichi “shithead”

Nekoma

Kuroo: bastard. thinks it sounds classy

Kenma: not so much a single word, but a string of profanity that makes less sense the more frustrated he is. loses at an online game and spouts off “you goddamn shit-eating motherfucker why don’t you suck my dick and die you greedy fucking bastard.” also will not hesitate calling someone a cunt. he’s a scary little man.

Lev: idk i feel like he says sugar honey iced tea

Yaku: he’s calling everyone a motherfucker

Yamamoto: likes saying bitch but only to other men

Fukunaga: man of few words. constantly calls everyone little shits in his head

Fukurodani

Bokuto: whatever he’s heard recently. repeats it until everyone around him is sick of it. please don’t let him watch game of thrones

Akaashi: panicked use of “fuck fuck fuck.” it’s never a one off thing, just a string of profanity

Shiratorizawa

Ushijima: not really a swearer because he doesn’t find it necessary, but tendou once overheard him saying “i can’t get the damn ball to stay in the court” when practicing serves and he literally will not shut up about it

Tendou: calls everyone pricks

Goshiki: “god fucking damn it”

Semi: we all know this man says pussy

Inarizaki

Atsumu: leans towards full phrases like oikawa, but he also uses “tit” and “titties” so often that osamu might snap

Osamu: motherfucker. pussy. bastard. anything he can direct against atsumu

Kita: man of few wasted words. i feel like he just never started swearing so never really does. he’d only really swear if he picked it up from a partner. however, one time when the miya’s were fighting aran heard him say “those damn twins” and ascended

Suna: he is a simple man. fuck will do nicely.

Aran: shit. i don’t know how to explain it.

Date Tech

Aone: shoot and darn it

Futakuchi: calls everyone fuckers. aone HATES it

Koganegawa: watches too many old movies and has picked up some really bizarre phrases that he uses in daily life like “great scott” and “good golly”

Other

Sakusa: he’s a damn it guy but he knows his way around the phrase “shut the fuck up miya”

Terushima: dick and pussy. this man knows who he is lmao

Daishou: calls everyone insufferable bastards

[lovelyirony]

@ironmanspussy​ here we are, directly inspired by your wonderful texpost! 

King Rhodes needed a partner to rule. It was ancient law, something he hadn’t really desired to follow. But unfortunately, the lawyers are assholes and want to create a monopoly of power that he just simply hasn’t the time to dismantle if he’s to follow his ten-year policy plan.

His partner should be well-mannered, aware of high society dress codes as well as how to navigate regular, everyday wear, and be calm in times of crisis.

So begins the search.

“You’re not going to find someone you like like that,” his advisor, Carol says, laughing. “I guarantee it.”

“We’ll see,” Rhodes decides.

Oh, they saw.

They saw a lot.

Almost every single candidate is bad. Or just off, in some way.

“Rogers seemed like a nice fit,” Carol says, tapping on her clipboard.

"He was nice, not for me. A bit too much.”

“What, muscle?”

“You could say that’s a factor. He’s also just a little too take-charge-of-everything.”

“Mm, that could pose a problem later. Well, the candidates who most matched your requirements are all out.”

“You’re kidding.”

“You’re a very particular kind of guy, Jim. So here are the rest.”

“Send in the clowns,” Rhodes says, waving his hand in dismissal and drawing the other one to his forehead to signal a headache about to come on.

“You just sent Barnes out,” Danvers reminds him, grinning.

“Asshole.”

“I’m still getting paid!” Carol sing-songs.

-

It’s almost better. Almost. Prince Clint Barton is an impossibly good marksman, and...that’s about it. His leadership style is far different from the Rhodes kingdom needs and he admits that he almost showed up in jeans.

Well, at least there’s honesty. Rhodes could find that forgivable.

But the jeans. Good god.

-

Bruce Banner is a total sweetheart, but his constitution is quite poor and again with the fashion choices. He shows up in a very nice outfit and has a nice wit about him.

They talk at length, and Carol swears that it will go well and perhaps there will actually be a wedding by June, all things said and considered.

This is until Rhodes leads Dr. Banner out to the gardens to meet Thor, their part-time warrior and full-time gardener.

Thor is completely gone on the scientist-ruler, and there it is.

“This is supposed to be your matchmaking,” Carol reminds him, scowling. “It was going well.”

“Once he met Thor anyways, it would have been all over. You know Thor’s type. The scientists that could ruin the earth if they truly had the thought to.”

“I suppose you’re right. Next person, then. She looks promising, Empress Romanov?”

-

Natasha Romanov is a terrifying figure. Very, very terrifying.

That being said, she has excellent taste in fashion and promised to send Rhodes some reviews, but “unfortunately has her heart spoken for.”

(It’s not very unfortunate. Rhodes feared for his life.)

-

He’s about to lose it, to be completely honest. Is there seriously no one out there?

“Your last candidate, at least for this month, is Tony Stark. High-profile inventor.”

“Not royalty?”

“Essentially, he is. Dad helped create weapons, he followed with protection and medical detail. He usually doesn’t agree to meet, so you’ll have to ask him why.”

“Refuse to meet royalty?”

“People.”

-

Tony Stark did, in fact, refuse to meet people. In general, people were not his strong suit and he saw no point to marriage.

“If you marry well, you get more access to resources for your reacting thing,” Pepper says.

“My reactor. I’ve told you that a million times.”

“And I’ve forgotten it a million and one. But if you meet Rhodes, he’s probably your best chance of not marrying a total shit royal.”

“And why is that?”

“Searching online for your answer is free, I am not. Your bill will be sent to your inbox.”

Tony stares after Pepper. She’s too damn capable.

He sighs to himself.

He does need more funding for his projects. His father cut him off completely and while that wouldn’t be the worst thing, Tony’s not going to charge obscene prices just to keep himself afloat.

So...marrying a royal. Not the best plan in the world, especially given Tony’s track record with people. Sure, he can play the part. But he just...won’t.

-

This is why Tony’s about five minutes late, cursing up a blue streak at a guard that has followed him into the hall because due to his appearance he thinks he needs to have a “check-in” with the people at the front desk for appointments, and in general? The day has been bad.

Also, Pepper forced him into “nice” clothes. While Tony can and has worn his nice clothing before, he does not like the ones that Pepper chose because they are uncomfortable, stiff, and absolutely a bit too long.

So he trips on the carpet.

“Motherfucker!”

Rhodes’ head pops away from his conversation with the chef regarding the dinner menu.

Here is a man with probably the most intricately embroidered robes he’s ever seen on, hair that looks like it was probably not even styled, just brushed through, and had about the entirety of the guard behind him asking him about an appointment time.

Obviously, he’s the most attractive man Rhodes has ever seen in his life.

“And who are you?” he asks.

“Tony. Stark. Mechanic and inventor. Um, you talked to Pepper about me? I think I’m in your circle of potential candidates for ruling. It’s totally fine if you kick me out, I kind of scuffed your carpet.”

“We need new carpet anyway,” Carol says. “We’ll disregard your entrance for now, Stark.”

“Tony, please.”

“Tony,” Carol says slowly, smiling. “You will be walking around the gardens with King Rhodes, pausing for dinner.”

“Cool.”

Rhodes has to stop from laughing. Cool. He’s already a fan of this.

Carol leans over to him, whispering in his ear.

“I thought you wanted someone who had a cool head, not someone like that.”

“Well, I can be wrong every once in a while.”

“Or more.”

“Every once in a while,” Rhodes reiterates. “Besides, I have a good feeling about this.”

“Hm.”

-

Walking through a garden with a stranger is not as smooth as one would expect. Rhodes isn’t exactly well-versed in asking people what their plans are for the future, and if they are amenable to perhaps marriage.

“What do you do for fun?” Tony asks.

He’s sort of taken aback at the question.

“Pardon me?”

“What do you do for fun?” he repeats. “Like, do you cook? Sew? Duel with your rivals? What do you do for fun?”

Well. He has to think for a moment.

“I go on runs.”

“That is not fun. Don’t tell me that that’s what’s fun for you.”

“What, can’t run?”

“I don’t run, there’s a difference. I’ll run when something’s chasing me.”

“And yet you won’t have training, like I will.”

“Did you forget my trade, Your Imminence?” Tony asks, voice mocking him.

It’s honestly refreshing. Rhodes doesn’t like it when people are so serious around him, so afraid to disappoint.

“An inventor? You’re going to invent a way to run better?”

“To fly, honey. Honestly...”

-

After that, it’s a dead-set decision from Rhodes.

He offers his hand in marriage, as well as the crown. Tony blinks.

“You haven’t even seen me take a turn in the ballroom.”

“It’s either going to be wildly entertaining or surprising, and I can’t wait for either.”

-

Tony enters his own room, in a panic.

This has to go well. He has to dress to impress.

“Pepper, he’s holding a party for our engagement. I have to dress nicely.”

“You know how to do that, I don’t know why you’re telling me that.”

“There are so many factors. Do you know anyone who can embroider his family crest on any shoes? What colors I’m meant to do? Oh my god, we have to fuse the colors together. This is going to be a disgrace. I’ll be exiled to be a hermit in the forest who relies on bark for sustenance, and this--”

“Can you. Potentially, maybe, chill? It’ll be fine.”

“You say that, but right now I’m imagining having to go to war because I didn’t wear the right color of red, so...”

“You are literally the worst person alive.”

“False, we both know Justin Hammer and out of the two of us, I think you’d want to date me more.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“Just practical, Pep. Just practical. Now help me shade match Rhodey’s red.”

“He’s Rhodey now?”

“In my head? Yes. I don’t like Rhodes, I absolutely will not call him Jim until we both hit seventy years old.”

“Better let him know that.”

-

Rhodes gets a text from Tony.

so a.) your new nickname from me is rhodey. don’t question it, honeybear. Anyways, would you say your royal family color is closer to garnet-red or blood-red?

Rhodey blinks. He likes the nickname. It’s different. He has to show the text to Carol.

“What in the hell does that mean?”

“Let me google it.”

She analyzes the results, frowning.

“I’m thinking blood-red.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Why does he want to know the color?”

“I don’t know, I’ll ask.”

we’ve decided it matches closer to blood-red, Tones. Why do you ask?

Tony blinks. Other nickname. Interesting. He likes it.

my outfit choice relies heavily on this.

He leaves it at that, grinning as he puts his phone away.

Rhodey is laughing. He’s excited to see his husband-to-be.

-

Tony knows he looks damned good. The whole outfit is incredible. Red with gold stitching throughout, and he got his hair to cooperate to be artfully messy instead of just messy.

“I’m surprised at you, you clean up well,” Pepper teases. “You ready to go and make your debut?”

“As ready as ever,” Tony says, fixing the chain around his neck. The gold glints off the lights, and he knows he’s about to be the best dressed person in the room, with perhaps the exception of Rhodey.

He knows that most people are surprised that he’s the one that King Rhodes has decided to marry. He’s not known for being a particularly polite royal. In fact, he has told multiple members of royalty to “get fucked or get out of my way” when they want him to build something that he refuses to build.

So he’s not exactly the perfect choice. But his outfit is still the best in the room.

“Hi gorgeous,” Rhodey says, smiling. “You look incredible.”

“Well I do know how to make an entrance, after all,” Tony says. “You’ll find out this is only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Well then, I’m in for treats all my life,” Rhodey says. “How are you tonight, Tones?”

“Doing well, finished up working on one of the cars for Thor today.”

“Wait, you’re the one who’s refinishing it? He hasn’t been able to shut up about it for weeks! I was the one who used to look at it.”

“You like fixing up cars?”

“Yes, of course I do!”

-

From there, conversation flows. They understand each other well, laugh at the same jokes, and agree on cake flavors.

It’s not love, not yet. But they’re getting there.

-

It is officially love when Tony steals Rhodey from his royal duties to get a cheeseburger.

“Sometimes it’s good to get out of the throne, don’t you think?” Tony says, grinning over his sunglasses.

“For a cheeseburger? Can’t say I’ve ever done anything like that.”

“That’s because you’re all fancy and posh, I bet you don’t even know the f-word,” Tony says.

“Fuck you,” Rhodey jokes.

Tony gasps. “The king knows a curse word? Oh my lord! What...shame you bring to your family!”

Rhodey laughs, and it’s in this moment that he realizes that spending the rest of his days with Tony is potentially the best possible option in the world.

“I’m so glad we’re getting married,” he says. Tony stills.

“You...you are?”

“You’re the best thing to happen to me, I think,” Rhodey says, taking a sip of water as if he hasn’t just said the sweetest thing Tony’s ever heard. “And I hope that I’m the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“I mean I don’t know, the AC/DC reunion tour was pretty sick...” Tony says, grinning. “I’m kidding. Rhodey, I think we’re gonna be a good team. And I’m glad that I get to be with you.”

-

Their wedding is the talk of the year. Literally no one can shut up about it, but maybe that’s because Tony accidentally showed up late because he was inventing and had wild hair and maybe a stray grease-stain on his forehead.

Rhodey just grinned.

“You better not be late to the reception.”

“I’ll try my best. You know how I am.”

They kiss, and Rhodey sends him into a deep dip. Tony laughs into the kiss, and it becomes one of the most well-known photographs of the year.

-

Sure, Rhodey didn’t exactly get all of the qualifications that he wanted out of his ruling partner. Tony is absolutely not calm in times of crisis, and stress-bought novelty socks.

He more than once told a difficult business partner to “absolutely get fucked up on a Thursday, see if I give a singular shit when my husband is ten times better than you,” and also has a certain unawareness of some of his public outfit choices. (Hello sweatpants with holes in them and a striped hoodie.)

But Tony makes the best coffee ever, always gets Rhodey flowers from the supermarket, and is perhaps the most compassionate man he’s ever met.

So not a bad trade-off.

They lay in bed together, Rhodey looking over his obscenely trashy detective novels with his reading glasses, and Tony battling Pepper in a word search competition online.

“I love you,” Tony says out of nowhere, smiling. He presses a kiss to Rhodey’s shoulder.

“You’re okay,” Rhodey responds, patting Tony’s thigh.

He makes a squawk of outrage as Rhodey’s head turns from his book, grinning.

“You better give me a kiss to make up for that,” Tony demands. Rhodey rolls his eyes.

“Of course, drama queen.”

“Drama queen? I was told by the love of my life that I was ‘okay’ after one year of marriage? And I am supposed to be unaffected? Absolutely unacceptable, I think I will fling myself into a pit in the ocean, and--”

Rhodey cuts him off with a kiss.

“Or not. Not could definitely work.”

[delirious-donna]

Show Me That Tongue [Jujutsu Kaisen]

Oct. 25 - Toji Fushiguro x female reader

Toji has a debt to collect and you just happen to be along for the ride as his new partner. He has no need for a partner, not unless you plan on putting that smartass mouth to better use?

warnings: face fucking, mean Toji, light asphyxiation, rough blowjob, light degradation, mentions of blood on clothes, implied violence (not detailed and reader is not harmed in any way), cum swallowing

You didn’t think you could possibly miss the bickering of earlier, the yells of indignation at your mere presence, but it was far more preferable to the heavy silence of right now.

Toji Fushiguro regarded you with the dead eyes of a merciless killer, devoid of emotion and not even a smirk present on his scarred lips, it was terrifying. 

Of course, you had been unlucky enough to be partnered with the one man famed for being a lone wolf. A man that had grumbled and downright growled at you whilst you had both sat idling in the car. His chin resting on his cheek, elbow braced on the door and refusing to look you in the eye.

“Who the fuck said I needed any help? Stupid motherfuckers sending me some shitty piece of ass as back up… the fuck I need back up for?”

You hadn’t known which part to be more offended by; the insinuation that you couldn’t hold your own or the comment about you being a piece of ass. Pointing out that two were better than one had fallen on deaf ears, riling you to the point that insults were hurled like bladed weapons between the two of you.

With the air conditioning cranked to the max to try to lower the temperature from your arguing, you had swept your gaze over the infamous debt collector. Known for never losing a mark, always retrieving the goods and often in the most gruesome of ways, it was impossible to deny that he was hot.

You never could hide your feelings and even as fucking pissed as you were at him, it had still been more than evident that you were interested. 

Toji was exactly your type, and that was the biggest problem because you had a thing for assholes. The type of man that would only ever call you things like “sweetheart” or “darling” for the sole purpose of not saying the wrong name or worse, forgetting it altogether.

Men that wanted one thing, and it wasn’t like you were some innocent flower, but it’d be nice to be held once in a while after having your cunt split open on a fat cock.

The basic white tee that stretched taut across his upper torso highlighted how strong Toji was, thick veins ran the length of his forearms and his hands looked like they could crush a windpipe with little effort.

Why did he have to be so fucking attractive? Why were you thinking with your pussy and not your brain? The man that you had known for all of five minutes had insulted you more times than you could draw breath, yet here you were, wet and horny.

As you thought back on what had transpired earlier, you wondered whether that was what had caused your judgement to lapse. Too fogged by lust to see the ambush, and it had almost cost you your life.

You were thankful that Toji had been there, that he had shielded you from the brunt of the attack and struck back with such deadly precision and fervour that you would swear he had supernatural powers.

A thank you was caught in your throat, wary of how icy his expression was whilst you took in the white tee that was now caked in drying blood and worse. A streak of blood ran the length of his face and you wondered if he had been hurt and you simply hadn’t noticed.

You were reaching to cup his face, an instinct to care for him burning you alive but he caught your wrist before you could touch his cheek.

“What the hell are ya playing at?” he yelled, forcing a meek squeak from your mouth as you jerked from being grabbed and how angry he sounded at you.

“You’re hurt. I was…” your voice trailed away under the scrutiny of his cold stare. A vein throbbed in the side of his neck and you watched it, unable to maintain eye contact with him.

“Where’s your shitty attitude gone, huh? Lost your bark now that I had to save your sorry ass?”

Toji tossed your captured hand back into your lap, ripping down the sun visor to stare at his bloody reflection in the mirror. You watched him covertly, or so you hoped, it was wrong to continue finding him sexy, especially dripping in blood but it only fed that primitive image you liked so very much.

“I know ya like whatcha see, princess, ya keep staring and imma do something ‘bout it,” Toji threatened, fixing his gaze on you through the reflective surface.

You squirmed, you blushed, and you felt downright stupid. Embarrassment burned in your chest, turned you petulant once more and your sassy tongue returned with a bow.

“Yeah right. Like I’m interested in a slick motherfucker that has no respect for anyone. I’d rather suck a cactus!”

Toji was a hair’s breadth away from snapping, there you went running that fucking mouth again. The mouth that had done nothing but snark since he had picked you up earlier that morning.

Venom laced his every movement, acid burning in his veins as he raked your body without a care in the world for masking his action. You were pretty, a firecracker personified and he wanted to show you how he shut up little girls like you.

He had wanted to fuck the brat out of you since the moment he had laid eyes on you. He was still pissed at being told he had to have a partner on this job but perhaps taking you would be the reward for swallowing that bitter pill.

Having to actively protect someone other than himself, and with no monetary reimbursement on top of it, he was beyond pissed and you’d know about it soon enough.

Toji moved faster than you could possibly comprehend in your tiny mind, a bloodied hand wrapping around the column of your throat. Thick fingers squeezed down, your supply of air drastically reduced until you are gasping and choking.

His free hand worked at his belt, never taking his penetrating stare away from your flustered face. Toji smirked in the knowledge that he was indeed correct, you were a slut for this kinda rough treatment. Cheeks warm, eyes glossy and rather than clawing at his hand for freedom, you were clinging to him with a heaving chest.

“Not so fucking chatty now, are ya? I’ve got an even better idea of how to keep that mouth from spouting venom,” he hissed at you.

Your eyes grew impossibly wide as Toji’s girthy beast of a cock slaps against his abs, top pushed up whilst he works on freeing himself. The tip is a deep angry scarlet, weeping thick pearls of silvery precum. A prominent mushroom head with a ridge that makes your mouth salivate and twin stark veins running the length of his shaft.

He pumps it almost lazily whilst his hold from your throat relaxed, his hand moving to the back of your head and you find that you are getting closer and closer to his pussy ruining dick. The mere thought of that monster forcing your walls apart is enough for a slutty moan to roll past your lips.

“That’s better. Knew ya were a filthy little thing, now then. Suck it good and I’ll consider fucking ya like you want.”

There is no second given to contemplate his words, not a chance at being able to brace yourself for what was to come. Your lips barely parted in time for his sticky tip to slip past.

Groaning at the heavy, musky taste of his skin and mingling arousal, you lap at him like an eager little kitten. His grip shifts to trap your hair around his fist, giving an experimental tug that lifts you momentarily and causes you to whine in protest. Toji’s dark laughter rumbled through his chest, pushing you back down and forcing more of his cock between your lips.

Toji let his head fall back for a moment, the relief of your wet and wanton mouth cooling the very worst of his fiery temper. You really are very cute, sucking on his tip like it’s the first cock you’ve ever sucked and he can’t help himself from lifting his hips to push further into your mouth.

Your squirming lower half crouched on the passenger seat wiggles from side to side and he knows exactly what is on your mind, but first, you have to earn it.

Reclining his seat, Toji hummed at the sensation of your tongue exploring and learning his length. Tongue flattened wide to run up and down his length before switching to a speared point to flick into his slit and lave around the ridge of his cockhead.

You’re good, almost too good as he groans deep in his throat when your cheeks suction further and those wide eyes blink up into his face. You’d be fucking smiling if you could and that only makes him grit his teeth in irritation.

“Think you're such a clever cocktease, dontcha? This ain't your first cock but I bet it's the first that'll ruin ya like ya want.”

With those words, Toji tightens his grip around your hair. His free hand holds the side of your head and stops your rhythmic bobbing. Terrified eyes snap to his face and he only smiles, that cold deadly mask is back in place and the stretch of his scarred lips turns your blood icy.

His hips snap upward, fucking into your mouth and forcing his fat cock deep into your throat. You're gagging around him, not a hint of oxygen getting past the blockage that is his dick. Air rushes through your nose and for a second you worry he’ll pinch it shut, but it doesn't come. 

Falling back those sinfully dark eyes watch the thick vicious strands of saliva and arousal drip from your mouth with nothing but amusement on his face. There is only a second of reprieve to let you cough desperately and Toji plunged back into you. 

His pace is punishing and you know it’d be the same if he were fucking your drooling cunt. Every stroke deepens until your nose is pressed right against his stomach, the muscles contracting wildly. He holds you there and you clawed at his thick muscular thighs, begging for release but also knowing that he is close to release himself. 

Cock twitching, a groan of pleasure from his chest and the first waves of his sticky cum shoots down your throat. Toji draws back with a hiss, slapping his sensitive cock atop your tongue and painting it white. His bloodied hand pumps his shaft, milking it clean of everything he has whilst you can only blink through heavy tears and try not to swallow it before he’s finished.

Toji admires the sea of cum upon your tongue, your flushed cheeks and tears sliding down along with ruined mascara. He likes you just like this, prefers you silent with his load in your mouth. Maybe he will keep you, you’d be a real treat to break fully.

“Atta girl, swallow it all and c’mere. I’ve got plans for you…”

@tired-biscuit @novembrbaby @rott1ngflesh @rjssierjrie @queenofhufflepuff @lik0 @instantgalaxysheep @thisbicc @bijuu-naginata @kuroaka @twthot @bluntshuriken @carolineblythe @goddessbitxxx @allyallygator @smelllikeme @staygoldsquatchling02 @haitaniwhor3 @mafercapets17 @honeythedarling @releena-d @imitski @simpingforthisonedeer @nothisispatrick300

[alias-levi]

flash fic friday #5

@liz-pooh​ this is for you, hun 💙💙

gooood evening people (or whatever time it is when you are reading this)! after hardcore plotting one of my wips for two weeks then procrastinating doing the next step of drafting my best friend came in with a request for me to write. the final result actually happens to be a bit too long for a flash fic but i’m just going to pretend that i don’t know that. here are some basic infos:

fandom: twilight word count: abt. 1.8 k  pairing: Felix/fem!oc warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, verbal fighting

summary: For weeks Volterra’s streets have been reeking of mutt. The smell seemingly following Liza whenever she leaves the castle’s property. While doing some shopping, she catches a reflection that be able to explain why.

[ID: imagine, Paul imprintes on Felix’ mate]

source: unfortunately we lost the post where this matter was discussed so if anyone know is/has it/finds it, please feel free to share it with me via private messages so i can give proper credit! 

thank you and the text is below the cut :) enjoy!

It’s a dark day, the sky heavily clouded. There is a thunderstorm to come, that is for sure. Liza in the meanwhile uses the time wisely, strolling through the narrow streets, doing some shopping. Girly stuff.

For umphteenth time Liza wrinkles her nose. The almost unbearably gross, musty smell of wet dogs wavers around her. Bypassing a shapeshifter occasionally is nothing too far off the possibility scale but this right here is borderline suspicious. For a few weeks now this smell has seemed to show up every time she had left the properties of the castle.

With a sigh, and a suppressed gag, Liza takes off the sunglasses she had just tried. Turning back to the nice old man owning the small shop, Liza smiles. “Thank you very much but I don’t think these are my style.”

The man eagerly nods and tries to convince her of another pair, but Liza stops him and kindly bids her goodbyes. Just as she takes her first step to walk away, her eyes catch something in the mirror. A reflection. Someone who seemingly fits the natives yet her brain screams at her that something is off. And then the person is gone. Liza frowns. Then her eyes widen.

A few well-measured, yet fast steps later, Liza disappears into the same small backstreet the man in the reflection had stood in.

“I know you are here. I have been smelling you for weeks wondering why Volterra has turned into a hotspot for mutts.” She spits the last word out with as much disgust as she can manage. The smell has gotten worse and Liza wonders if she would throw up.

The man doesn’t hesitate now. Stepping out of the shadows and into her way he looks down on Liza, swallows hard then takes a step back. “Listen I wish I could have saved us both this situation but I have to talk to you.”

Liza snorts then spits on the floor right in front of his feet. “I’m flattered you came all this way just to get your ass kicked, Paul.” An oh-so-sweet and innocent smile plays around the vampires lips and her violet eyes sparkle with excitement. Watching the werewolf almost shrink under her gaze, breaks Liza’s smile into a grin, revealing her fangs. 

“Liza, no. Please, it is important that you listen to me.”

“Then you better spill the tea, mutt,” she puts her weight on one leg, tilting her hip and cocks an eyebrow at him, “I don’t have all day.”

“I will try to make it as quick as poss-”

“For fuck’s sake, Paul, get to the fucking point!”

“Yeah, yeah! I got it, I got it, okay?” Paul raises his hands in surrender. “Listen, remember a few weeks back when Felix and you were-”

“-in Forks and kicked y’alls asses? Yes I do remember, why do you ask?”

Entirely unphased by this snappy interruption Paul continues, “Remember that moment in the woods where I suddenly turned back? You just made a comment and then ran off.” 

Rolling her eyes Liza says, “course I do. What was up with you anyways? Fell in love with the most badass vampire chick you’ve ever seen?”

“I imprinted.”

She snorts, “on what, mutt? The trees? The dirt under your nails?”

“On you.”

The sincerity in his voice makes Liza’s next comment get stuck in her throat. He wouldn’t travel all this way around the world to find her and tell her this if he was joking. Only slowly the full extent, the full meaning behind his words, seeps into her brain. Oh fuck.

“Oh fuck.”

“Yes, indeed. Listen I will try my best not to-”

“How the fuck am I even expected to react in a situation like this?”

“This is unprecedented. There is no knowledge of something like this having happened ever before. Believe me if I knew how to deal with this, how to make this work for the both of us- I would! But for now I just had to let you know. You are in this-”

Liza can see the muscles under his skin straining. He is fighting the urge to run, yet his brain tells him to stay with his imprint. This is fucking ridiculous. 

“No, stop talking, Paul.” Closing her eyes for a second Liza sighs. She then fishes out her cell phone out of her coat’s pocket. “Give me your number I’ll call you in a couple of days. I- I need time to think.”

Paul is surprised. In all the time he had known Liza, nothing could ever knock the smartass out of her. But he obeys and states his number. He knows that he has no say in who he imprints on even though this is by far the worst scenario he could have imagined.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, you know,” Paul watches Liza scoff and nod slowly. He looks defeated, tired and worn out. 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

A shy smile tilts the corners of his mouth upwards upon hearing her sass returning.

---

The conversation with Paul gave Liza much to think about. So much, that her initial confusion has now turned into full blown anger. Paul imprinting on her is an unforeseen and definitely not welcomed inconvenience. No matter how exciting being the first of anything might be- This is not it. Liza doesn’t want it. Nursing a glass of rum and coke, Liza stares out of the window. Volterra lies quiet and peacefully beneath the castle, a stark contrast to her seething mind. The door behind her opens and Felix enters their chamber. Immediately he gags. “You smell even worse than the past days. I swear I will find and kill every single one-”

“Leave it, Felix.” 

Liza doesn’t bother turning around. Neither does she bother saying anything else for the next two hours. She just stays right there, at the edge of her seat, straight back, the glass in her hand close to bursting in her hard grip. Keeping her eyes trained on the streets, Liza almost feels Paul’s eyes on her.

“Okay,” Felix sits up on the bed and puts the book he was reading into his lap. “Okay, would you please finally tell me what the fuck is going on with you?” 

Felix is sick and tired of having Liza filling the room with the most annoyed energy, making the air almost thick enough to cut. Her occasional, totally unnecessary overly dramatic, huffs don't exactly make it better. Apart from breathing, Liza has not moved an inch and Felix thinks that if she sits there just a little bit longer, her drink will simply evaporate. 

Another very patient fifteen minutes later, Felix realizes that Liza’s hands have started to fidget and her knee has started to bounce up and down rapidly. From staring out of the window, her eyes glazed over and she also stopped pretending to blink.

“Liza,” his voice is quiet but nonetheless demanding, “What. The hell. Is. Going. On?”

She takes her time and Felix hates her for it. But if he had known what she was about to tell him, hell, he would have relished every single second of not knowing. 

“Paul imprinted on me.”

The words are so quick to leave her mouth, and oh-so-quiet, that Felix almost misses them. But he doesn’t. His brain makes sure to let him know, with the burning sensation of jealousy pumping through- no, simply filling his body. His fingertips are burning and aching to scratch that boy’s eyes out. Through gritted teeth he finally manages to press out, “He did what?” 

Felix’ voice is dangerously quiet. 

Eventually Liza turns to face him. “I met him today. He asked me to talk and then told me that. Explains why the streets have been reeking.”

“Yeah, no, but- Why on you?!”

Liza smiles upon the barely contained anger in Felix’ voice now, the fire, the jealousy burning in his eyes. 

“Well he doesn’t exactly have the power to control it!” Her voice is sharp and louder than intended. 

“I know that, Liza, I ain’t exactly fucking new in this business.” After a pause of just staring at each other Felix adds, “When did that even happen, huh?”

“Remember when we were in Forks a few weeks ago? Found the pack at the beach and had some fun with them?”

Felix nods along and Liza smiles sourly at the absurdity of this situation. The exact same conversation had happened just hours before, yet, she had been the one listening and Paul the one talking. Providing delicate information.

“You yelled at me to not go too far but I followed them into the woods anyways. Well,” Liza sighs and Felix rolls his eyes at that, “one after the other veered but one of them didn’t. He was so eager, so... hell-bent on outrunning me. It was so much fun when I finally had him, pinned on the ground he looked me in the eyes and went still. At first I thought I had been too harsh, hurt him, or broke something. Then he turned back into his human form. Looking at me like he had seen a ghost.”

“He imprinted on you,” Felix deadpans. “That motherfucker really fucking imprinted on you!” 

Fury seeps into his voice as his body goes entirely still. Liza knows this look, his reaction, the unmoving body. Felix is like an animal, waiting, preparing for that one leap that will get them their prey. With slow movements she puts her glass down onto the floor. She might be naive. Trying to hold back who is said to be the strongest vampire to ever exist, is not in her power. After almost half a century together, Liza knows that she will not be able to stop Felix if he doesn’t let her. His abilities simply exceed her power. 

So, Liza does the only slightly realistic thing that comes to her mind. Keeping up her slow movements she stands up, walking over to the bed ever so quietly. Neither of them is breathing. With a gentle smile on her lips, Liza cautiously cups Felix’ cheek, feeling him release a breath he has never held onto her palm. Their eyes stay locked this whole time.

Bringing their faces close together, she stops only an inch before him. “Let’s not deal with this today, okay? I don’t want to think about it anymore for now.” Her voice is gentle, calm and barely more than a whisper.

Felix surprises her in leaning up, closing the small gap between them and pressing a chaste kiss onto her lips. “You reek of mutt, querida.”

Liza bursts out a short dry laugh. The atmosphere is clearly more relaxed now. “Right,” she stands up again, “I’ll take another shower then... Care to join?” With a wink she leaves Felix on the bed and walks towards the bathroom.

[tmntxreader-fics]

TMNT Raphael x Reader: Soulmate AU (PART 2)

Part 2/3: 

THE CONFRONTATION

Warnings: Cussing (as always). Longish 

The second you wake up, you instantly wish that you hadn’t. 

This is due to many reasons, the main one being that your body feels like it has been set on fire and then run over by a bus. Twice. 

Another reason is owed to the fact that you have absolutely no idea where the fuck you are. 

Your fingers grasp the material beneath you, confirming that you’re definitely resting on a bed; but who it belongs to is an unfortunate mystery. It’s easily determined that you’re in a bedroom; though, again, whom the bedroom belongs to loops right back around to the unfortunate mystery category. 

A groan slips from your lips as your vision spins the room like a bowling ball hurtling down the alley. You close your eyes in an attempt to ward away the pain prodding at your head; though, to your dismay, the action backfires when you can’t bring yourself to reopen them. 

You moan again, louder this time. Distantly, you realize you sound like a wounded animal but you can’t find it in you to care who hears. If the person who took you in, (in which you’d assume the bed belonged to them), wanted to kill you they would have done so already. It’s not like they haven’t had ample opportunity to do something Saw-like while you’ve been drooling into their pillow for what would probably be hours. 

“She’s making noise!” 

You hear an excitable voice sound off from outside the door and you bolt straight up in your bed. Ignoring the way your head spins from the sudden movement, you strain your ears for any other noise. 

“I need to do a once-over on her vitals,” another individual speaks up, his voice decidedly clinical in comparison to the previous person. “Are you...” There’s an awkward pause, “Are you coming in with me?”

There’s a long silence and you shift your feet so that they dangle over the side of the bed, ready to make a mad dash if need be. Your eyes are wide when you catch sight of the shadows shifting beneath the doorway. 

“It’s not a good idea.” Your eyes widened at the sound of that voice.

 That voice... your eyes widen at the sound of that voice. 

Arms enveloped you, swathing you in a green sky, “Hey- HEY! Don’t you die on me, I swear to-” 

You gasp for air, keeling over the side of the bed at the memory that sears unwantedly through your mind. That guttural tone, inflected with such powerful aggression and anguish. Your skin prickles at just the thought of it, trailing down your spine like an electric shock. 

“She’ll hate me.” 

There’s an anxious exhale from above you, shifting the hair that’s splayed across your face messily,“No, this can’t be right. This- there’s no fuckin’ way.”

“She doesn’t deserve this, Don.” 

“This has got to be a fuckin’ mistake, I don’t have- I just, I don’t fuckin’ deserve one.” 

You rasp out heavy breaths, overwhelmed by this one man’s presence, both in your memories and outside the door. You slap your hands over your ears, whimpering as your body slips to crumple into itself on the cold ground. The sheets flutter around you, tangled in your limbs like restraints- choking you. 

“Stop it,” you rasp, pressing your palms harder to block out the noise, “please.”

  Thick fingers pat your hair down gently, an attempt to distract you from your writhing agony, “I know,” he mutters repeatedly. “I’m so sorry, this is my fault.” 

“Stop talking,” you whimper, fingernails digging into your scalp. You want to deafen yourself, to reach inside your mind and tear it apart just to silence it. His voice beckons you towards something that you can’t identify, it doesn’t scare you. The weight in your chest is what terrifies you. 

The knowledge that the more that this man talks in your mind, the closer you are to uncovering the terrible part you had so desperately tried to forget.

 The man of metal and fire.

  “Where is that pathetic soulmate of yours now?”

Your heart stops.

  -

The second time that you wake up, you instantly wish that you hadn’t. 

A recurring pattern it seems.

 Your fingers grip the sheets beneath you in an attempt to ground yourself and distantly you realize that you’ve been placed back into the random stranger’s bed. Tucked in and everything. 

There are no voices this time, no shadows beneath the door, no hint of life other than your own. And yet, you feel as though you’re being watched. The room is almost completely dark, the only reprieve being a flickering jasmine-scented candle on the bed-side table. 

Along with a cup of water and aspirin. 

With a raised eyebrow, you reach for the water. Still cold. Throwing a suspicious glance at the door, you tentatively sniff the contents of the cup. You have no idea what you’re hoping to discover, it’s definitely water but is it spiked? 

“It’s clean.” 

You jolt, the water splashing over the brim of the glass in your hand. Heart thrashing in your chest, you realize that you remember that voice. 

His voice. 

“Who’s there?” You rasp, ignoring the terror inflected throughout your words.

 Your eyes scour the room, hoping to make out the outline of anything. 

There’s a pregnant pause, dousing the air in a tension that you could almost taste. 

“I’m- My name’s Raphael,” was the hesitant response, gravelly and unsure and it sends shivers down the length of your body. 

Raphael. 

You don’t speak for a long moment, unsure of how to reply. You don’t want to tell him your name, not yet. Finally, you settle on a question. 

“Are you going to hurt me?” Your voice is paper-thin and so small you don’t recognize it. You almost don’t want to hear the answer, what are you going to do if he says yes? Where would you run? Where would you hide? 

“I don’t want to.” The voice cracks, anguish seeping from every word. Your heart leaps into your throat, that’s not the response you wanted to hear. 

“Please don’t,” you say, bringing your knees to your chest as both hands grip the glass. You’re usually not one to beg, but you had learned your lesson from your last encounter. Your jaw still stings as a reminder. 

There’s a choking noise from somewhere in the room, “What? Wait, fuck no, I’d never lay a hand on ya like that. That ain’t what I meant.” 

“What did you mean then?” You whisper, ignoring the relief that floods throughout your being. 

“I just- I...” He goes silent. 

“Raphael?” You venture tentatively.

 “Yeah?” His voice is immediate and soft, almost intimately vulnerable. “Oh, right. Sorry. I’m just- fuck, I dunno how to say this.” 

You stay silent, allowing him the space to contemplate his next words. The last thing you want is for him to feel as though you’re pressuring him or stepping out of line, resulting in a Texas Chainsaw Massacre moment. 

Though, deep down you know that’s not the case at all. 

“I need you to...” Raphael trails off again and you hope he doesn’t fall back into silence. Ironically, when he finishes his sentence, you find yourself wishing he hadn’t said anything at all.

 “I need you to look at the name on your arm.” 

Raphael Hamato New York City October 2019. “Hey- HEY! Don’t you die on me, I swear to-” 

“You motherfucker!” The screech is your only verbal response. “I swear I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass that you’re going to choke on it.” 

“Fuckin’-what?!” Raphael’s sputtered squeak only aggravates you more.

“You in a gang?” You rage, launching a pillow in what you hope is his general direction, “is that what this is? You got me caught up in your little gang war and I had some fucking oversized kitchen knife in my face trying to find you!”

“I’m not in a gang!” He exclaims quickly, the gravelly voice he usually possesses is now a panicked falsetto shriek. 

 “There were demon ninjas!” You snap, throwing the last available pillow into the abyss with the hopes it would knock him out. “Demon. Ninjas. Raphael.” 

“Well, ya ain’t gonna think any differently about me, girly,” your soulmate drawls sarcastically and your rage falters at his statement. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You snap. 

“It means,” he growls, voice husky, “that if you think they’re scary lookin’, I’m gonna look like Satan himself in your eyes.” 

“Lucifer was physically beautiful,” is your automatic correction.

“Y’know what I meant, smartass.” You can almost feel him rolling his eyes at you. 

“Then prove it,” you say, standing up to linger beside the bed. “Show me what you look like.” 

A rough, humorless laugh echoes throughout the room and you can’t help but flinch. “Trust me, short-stack, you don’t wanna see this.” 

“Short-stack?” 

“There ain’t nowhere for you to run,” he continues over you gruffly, “you’re gonna piss yourself, try to bolt, fail and pass out. Then, because nothing goes right in my life, you’ll concuss yourself, forget this happened and then we’ll have to do this shit all over again in a few hours.” 

“I highly doubt you’re going to scare me out of the room based on your looks alone, Raphael.” You drawl, feigning a bored tone. If you trivialized the matter, made it seem as if it were casual, perhaps he’d be more relaxed with revealing himself.  

“You don’t get it,” Raphael snarls, growing increasingly agitated. You raise an eyebrow at the tone, reminding yourself to be wary. Just because he’s your soulmate it doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re in the clear. 

“Then inform me,” you say. “If you’re that terrified of me seeing you then tell me what you look like so I know what to expect!” 

“I’m not even a fuckin’ human! What features am I meant to explain to ya?” 

You choke on air. 

“Fuckin’ what?” 

“You heard me, princess,” Raphael’s words are rough and sarcastic. You’re beginning to see the nature of his temperament now. “I’m. not. human.” 

“What; are you part lizard?” You snark at him, heart beating wildly out of control in your chest despite your sarcastic remark. “Just because you might’ve done some bad things in your life it doesn’t mean you stop being human, Raphael.” 

“Wrong reptile,” is all he says, voice suddenly a guttural whisper. 

Then he comes forward. 

“Jesus Christ,” you rasp, stumbling backward until the small of your back hits the bed. 

“I’m betting Satan would be the better description, right about now.” 

You allow your stare to rake from feet to bandanna, drinking in the vast expanse of the awe-inspiring creature before you. He was definitely not human. 

Large, strapped feet equipped with two toes on each foot. Calves that flare with muscle; white strapping tape twisting over the diametre of his shins to meet the hefty black padding protecting his knees. The grey jagged shorts leading to a bare torso, protected by natural armor. A softer shell to match the large, hard one on his back. 

You whisper a soft curse beneath your breath when you observe the expanse of his chest and barnhouse-sized shoulders. Impossibly large arms with fists akin to sledge-hammers, decorated by the red strapping tape twisting over his knuckles. His biceps are as thick as tree trunks. 

Finally, you reach his face and the first thing you observe is his full but scarred lips parted slightly to give way to straight, white teeth. High cheekbones that mount a red fabric acting as a bandanna, shielding the entire upper part of his face except for his eyes.

 A gaze that resembles molten gold, alive and shifting beneath the glass. 

A rich and watchful stare that pins your very soul to the spot you stand in, making it impossible for you to run if you dare. The fact that he was watching you with that gaze when you couldn’t see him sends an electric shock down the length of your spine. 

“What are you?” You breathe in wary awe, eyes roaming over his figure repeatedly. Raphael shifts uncomfortably beneath your scrutiny but doesn’t express his distaste for such heavy observation. 

“Mutant turtle,” he states, voice ruled into a neutral tone. It seems like an unnatural thing for him to verbally wield. 

You remain quiet, opting to scour his appearance until his image is burned into your memory from head to toe. He remains as still as he physically can, which, if it weren’t for his anxiety he’d be able to keep inhumanly still. He could freeze as if he were suspended in time and space. 

But, pinned beneath your careful observation, he squirms. 

“Ya scared?” Raphael forces humor into his tone and it’s fooling neither of you. You swallow down your nausea, unsure as to how to answer. Your soulmate is a Pandora’s Box, the minute you unfurl his world your own will change forever. Are you really willing to run the risk that it could turn out for the worst? 

“Should I be scared?” You retort softly, eyeing him carefully from where you stand.

“I’m a freak, short-stack, it’s your nature to be ‘fraid of me,” Raphael begins, edging forward slightly. There’s a sheen over his golden gaze that makes your heart stutter, “but, I’d never do anything to hurt ya. Please, ya gotta know that.” 

You watch him, standing only a few feet before you in all his glory. This mutant in which the universe has gifted to you to be you Soulmate, baring himself and all his vulnerabilities in the open for you to either accept or quash. 

You know you’re trembling, he’s a physicaly representation for dangerous uncertainty. The normal processes and ideals don’t apply in his world and you’ll only be pulled into that life with him should you accept. But as he watches you, like you’re the only thing that matters to him, you can’t help but want to throw caution to the wind. 

“I don’t truly know that,” you whisper and his eyes widen when you take a step forward on your own accord. “But... I’m trusting that you’ll prove it to me.”   

[sanderssideswriting]

Youtuber Life Chapter 4

Ships: familial sleepxiety and eventual Prinxiety

Words:???

triggers: attempted suicide mention

first  last  next

Summary: Remy Sanders is a famous beauty vlogger and just moved to LA with his teenage son Virgil after their location was leaked by fans. Remy AKA CoffeeAddiction has several million subscribers. Virgil also has a secret Drama channel, where he doesn’t show his face and uses a voice modifier. He just hit a million subs and grows more everyday because of the level of production his videos have, the mystery around who he is and the fact that he ALWAYS has the latest information regarding youtube drama.

“Welcome back to another episode of “the fuck did she say now? I have a DID drama update. I’ve been waiting awhile to gather information to do a long segment. Since she first came out about having DID which has been disproven time and time again she’s tried to make it more believable in the stupidest way possible. By reviewing Chick-Fil-A’s spicy chicken sandwich, five fucking times. I watched all those videos plus others to see if she’s trying to keep up the lie. She’s really not. I swear every time I have to give her my views to tell you all what’s going on I die a little inside.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“DAD! Read the fucking sign! I’m recording!”

“Are you talking about Trisha?”

“Yes dad, now let me tell them about her.”

“She’s a total bitch! I fucking hate her!”

“WE KNOW! Damn it, now I’m going to have to edit all this out.”

“I’ve been looking into DID. And it’s actually a very interesting topic, and I encourage everyone to learn more about it. There will be links to videos and article on DID in the description. DisociaDID has not been on social media very much since all of this. I know they attempted suicide. Not because of Trisha or atleast only partly. Nin the systems host was dating someone in another system called Team Piñata who was discovered to be doing some shit I will not mention because it’ll get demonetized. I actually feel really bad for they system, it seems like they have been going through a lot recently. Now for all the OTHER shit Trisha has said and done over the past few weeks.”

Virgil edited the video and posted it, making sure to edit out the bit where his dad interrupted him and called Trisha a bitch.

Roman texted him.

Roman: You’re a meme Virgil: I’m well aware, fucking Jake Paul Roman: I thought you hated the guy, why are you fucking him? Virgil: I’m so fucking done with you

“VIRGIL!”

Virgil rolled his eyes “What?”

“I have in idea for a video get your ass down here!”

Remy was in front of the camera “K, so what if I mixed all of my eyeshadow together into one?”

“First of all Cristine did that with nail powder and polish and Safiya did that already in one of her weird make up science videos. Second, scraping the eyeshadow would kill you to watch.”

“UGH! You’re right, what else could I do?”

“A Bob Ross painting on your face. you could use only drug store products for something,”

“Bob Ross painting with drugstore shit!”

Virgil shrugged “yeah sure, you could also get lip gloss mix it together and try to make something really fucking weird, or do that with gel polish”

“I refuse to touch lip gloss, it’s fucking gross.”

“Bob ross painting not on your faces with lip gloss and other lipsticks.”

Remy nodded “thanks Virgil, you’re helping my buy it later.”

“No, people at school could see me, you can order it,”

“that’s less fun though,”

Virgil rolled his eyes “fine dad, I just need to make sure that no one can recognize me.”

He was ready pretty fast, with a light brown wig and blue contacts he also had close that where black and purple reserved for the occasion.

“Hello everyone! We are in the car today at our local Walgreens because we’re going to be buying lipstick, lip gloss and lip liner to make a Bob Ross painting!” 

“Not on your face.”

“Not on my face, fuck lip gloss.”

“I wasn’t aware that was a kink or whatever.”

Remy glared at Virgil “smartass, you can walk home.”

“Gladly, I’ll be laughing when I see you trying to film and carry everything and talk and pay the cashier. You’ll be a meme.”

“You already got memed once this week, I’ll meme you myself if I have to. Or I could turn you into an E-Girl, you did lose that bet.”

“I absolutely despise you,”

Remy laughed “no you don’t.”

“I really do, and you can’t make me e an e-girl.”

“No, but the people can, there’ll be a poll right here, vote should my intern be an e-girl for the day?”

Virgil groaned “times like these make me wish I was aborted.”

Remy laughed.

The rest of the video went ok and no one recognized Virgil.

Raccoon: I hate life Dukey: I saw, I voted yes, you’d make a wonderful e-girl hiss hiss motherfucker: so did I, suffer bitch Raccoon: you’re both traitors  hiss hiss motherfucker: at least we’re not going to be an e-girl

Virgil was pissed the whole week. “What’s up with you Dr. Gloom?” Roman asked.

“Made a bet with Remus, and lost, I’m going to commit toaster bath.”

Roman made a face “why would you make a bet with my brother? nothing good comes out of it.”

“I thought I’d win, turns out he’s totally willing to eat deodorant if it means I’ll have to dress like an e-girl for a day and make a tiktok.”

Roman laughed “I cannot wait to see you dressed as an e-girl.”

“I can, I’ll be locking myself in my room all day.”

“I’m surprised Remus didn’t say you’d have to walk around in public like that.”

“He did, but he can’t see me, so I’ll be in my room.”

Remy was in front of the camera. “Time for you to become an e-girl!”

“I’d like to say a very special fuck you to everyone who voted yes and that after this I’m going to commit toaster bath,”

“It’s one day, you’ll be fine.”

“One day in my room with the door locked and curtains closed.”

Remy laughed “oh no gurl, you’ll be going out, I suggest you make plans.”

“WHAT? That wasn’t part of the deal!”

“I thought it would go without saying you’d have to go outside.”

Virgil just glared, happy his face wasn’t in frame.

The makeover took well over an hour. when it was over he looked almost unrecognizable, thankfully.

Virgil: Hey, anyone want to hang out, my dad’s kicking me out of the house for the day says I need to be “social” whatever the means Princey: So you do need to go out as an e-girl Virgil: unfortunately, anyone free? Logan: I have to study and Patton is out at the animal shelter volunteering, Roman? Princey: I’m free, meet you at the mall? Virgil: Sure

“Dad! I’m going to hang out with Roman see you later.”

“Have fun on your date!”

“dad! It’s not a date!” He slammed the door and left.

Virgil waited in a café for Roman. He got an iced coffee as always.

Someone shoved him while he was waiting in line.

“What are you? A boy or a girl make up your mind,”

Virgil didn’t look up from his phone “gender is a spectrum and gender norms are fake and I refuse to give into toxic musicality and if you have a problem with that you can leave because I already ordered and payed for my drink and am not leaving until I get it.”

“You can’t change your chromosomes, it’.” the guy said in a feeble attempt to get back at Virgil. basic biology

“How about you stop relying on basic biology and come back when you can argue the same statement with complex biology. If you really knew anything about biology more then the basics you’d know that scientifically there are at least three genders according to chromosomes. Male, female and intersex, and that once again biology isn’t fucking basic otherwise everyone would be a biologist. I can wear a skirt if I want to.”

He grabbed his coffee and left, Roman had arrived a few minutes prior.

“Damn emo nightmare I didn’t think you’d go all out on the E-girl look.”

Virgil shrugged “go big or go home, and I was kicked out for the day so I had to go big. Dad said I needed to go outside. For some reason, no idea why. I mean last time I left the house of my own free will not for school was only six months ago.”

Roman looked at him in doubt “I’m pretty sure you’ve been outside of your own free will sooner then six months ago.”

“Outside? Yes, of my own free will? not so much. Oooh hot tpic.”

Roman laughed.

“Shut up princey, they have cool stuff, including gay stuff.”

Roman shrugged “could be gayer.”

“You’ve been in hot topic?”

Roman shrugged “a few times with Remus, he makes me go, bribing me with Disney.”

Virgil smirked “why am I not surprised you can be bribed with Disney?”

He started looking around at My Chemical Romance t-shirts and other things. He also grabbed some purple hair dye.

“Where to next princey?”

Roman shrugged “Game stop?”

“Sure,”

They hung out at the mall for awhile longer before guess what another youtuber came.

It was Safiya doing a weird makeup science vlog.

“Virgil, planning on becoming a meme again?”

Virgil rolled his eyes “no, besides Safiya’s cool, I like her make up science videos. I just hate vloggers who do shitty content and make to much money through it.”

They left shortly after going their separate ways.

“How was your date?” Remy called from the basement.

“Not a date! You made me get out the house!”

“Come down here and finish filming!”

“So, how was your day of being an e-girl?”

“Got harassed about my gender and whatnot, I fucking destroyed the idiot, that was fun.”

“And who did you hang out with?”

“I told you and again, it wasn’t a date, everyone else was busy.”

Remy looked towards the camera in doubt.

“Well I’m never doing this again, I’m going to go change.”

The video went viral when it was posted several days later.

I saw a kid at the mall dressed like an e-girl a few days ago. They got harrassed at the Starbucks.

[hungryflowers]

Let Me Fall in Love With You

Title: Let Me Fall in Love with You

Rating: Teen

Relationship(s): RadioHusk

Continuity/Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Alastor, Husk

Warnings: Swearing, Gore and Maiming 

RadioHusk Week Prompt: Falling In Love

Alastor walked down the path through the woods at the right moment. Toothy, alligator chesire of a smile flitting in the low light. His outfit made it easy for him to blend in to the surroundings, the foliage of dead, decaying leaves masked him in deep shadows of orange and red. The woods would be barren. Without fail, nothing grew here for long. The territory was the only stretch of flourishing wildlands that kept up sparse flora. A perfect place to stage and stash a murder. These woods kept the Radio Demon spellbound by the way the Sinners would yowl and scream inside and around the woods. Tonight was no different... Well, he had been wrong before. 

Sprang from the woods was indeed a squawking sinner. Literally. It was a bird on a genus origin Alastor knew nothing of, but it was running. And it was running to him. Beside himself, Alastor did not move, did not beat the sinner away or show interest in the abandoned pleas. All he did was tilt his head to the side, his smile subduing as more closed, eyebrow arched in what could be confusion as he tried to make sure they did not touch him.

“You gotta help me! Please man! PLEASE!,” He wailed, feathers going everywhere as he tried to get Alastor to respond, “He’s gonna kill me! He already ripped off my feathers! You gotta save me!”

Alastor looked the poor gent over, seeing red intermingling in sea of blue and yellow. The green eyed bird was trying to get closer to the deer demon, to grab at him for leverage as its legs went underneath him. 

Alastor looked at the male bird, cleared his throat unhurried like and said, “My poor fellow sinner...”, Vindictive and snide were not the terms to be used as he poshly straightened his clothes and tempered his voice, “Whom is trying to kill you? After all, why would you go out into these woods and not expect to be attacked while on a stroll?” Alastor’s chest inflated as he swatted away the sinner’s grabby hands. He had no patience for this. The buffoon had ruined his quiet, he wanted it back.

“You don’t understand! He--”

A hissed snarl came from behind the two of them. Alastor’s ears came to attention of the sudden sound, as well as the rustle of under brush. There was stillness for all of four seconds when without warning a massive flurry of red and grey came thrashing out of the leaves and branches. 

Alastor suspected the creature be a lycanthrope of a kind. Such creatures were hellspawns and not uncommon when walking through the hollows, yet on second glance he noticed the form of the beast was not of canine, but of a felidae visage. It was slender but toned. Furry yet feathery at the same time. Paws larger than Alastor’s whole hands were decorated with deadly, serrated knives at each tip. It hissed, spat, snarled, growled wildly as it sped towards them. 

Alastor shoved the imbecile off his path at the same time the beast pounced on the sinner, who had been screaming the whole time. He continued to do as the feline began to rip the sinner into pieces; ivory claws going decorated with blood the color of red wine, teeth plunged into the poor beast’s flabby skin, tearing it in excess as the muscles and tendon came free with a wet squelch. 

“Help! Help me please! Oh God, why is this happening to me?!!” He brayed reaching out a claw to Alastor, him hoping he would reach with his own to save him. The large cat bit down on the arm, a hard crackling could be heard as the deer demon was certain he heard bones breaking. The screams confirmed as the limb went limp while it began to bite in and chew the limb right off his body. A weak sob came from the poor creature as it was wrenched from its socket, down the gullet of the cat. 

Alastor’s smile, he found, began to widen as he took part -visually- in the blood splatter and dismemeberment of the poor soul. He even giggled when the cat demon’s claws went right into the gut to slit gashes into the meat there. The cries became fainter and fainter as the creature began pulling out intestines and eating them right out of the warm body. 

The soil around them began to grow foul with the assailed brutal wounds, the life liquid spilling out as more organs; a fatty stomach, lower intestines and a kidney was ripped out and swallowed without a care for finesse. The white face of the cat demon was deeply red, the flavor of the color making Alastor want to walk up to the creature and lick it off his cheeks. The thought left as soon the cat’s golden teeth plunged into the sinner’s neck to rip out the trachea, ending the struggle completely. 

It was all over in a blink, the sinner was dead. Silent, save the droplets falling into the grass. 

In the quiet, the cat demon looked over to Alastor, who just now got a view of the feline’s incredibly intelligent looking, orange round eyes. The gleamed like firelight on a cadaverous winter tundra, filled with the malice of an angry spirit. 

Looking at him as he remained still, Alastor could see to him fully; his grey coat was like year old soot, chest -that was covered in deep red at the moment- was stagnantly white. On his neck appeared to be a bowtie that was dirtied by the crimson...or maybe it was crimson. The deer demon couldn’t tell from a distance. The beast’s ears were set wide apart and held high atop his head. His face held a permanent scowl of a snarl. 

“You’re gonna be next if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” A grizzled snarl of a voice was not what Alastor expected. It set the Radio Demon’s chest alight with something he can’t process. He huffed, wagged his cane and took one deliberate step to the feline.

“My, my quite the vulgarity you hold. I will be taking off on my merry way... for a boon, dear fellow.” His gaze stayed, eyes honing on the cat’s snarl. 

“The fuck’s that gotta mean?! Piss off or I’ll rip your stinkin’ guts out!” A louder growl as he skulked closer his tail, that was not seen before now, thrashing from side to side.

“Tut, tut. A boon is merely a gift. An exchange. All I ask of you is your name.” Another deliberate step forward. His voice still audible yet dipped a slight.

“My...name? How about yours, motherfucker!”

“Certainly! My name, dear fellow, is Alastor. The Radio Demon and most possibly the most dangerous sinner in Hell,” He boasted proudly as he laughed loudly, “Now may it get yours?”

The cat’s long eyebrows shot up, tail starting to stand as he examined the sinner. Pupils constricted a touch as he looked this ‘Alastor’ over. 

“Never heard of you. And that’s a pretty ballsy statement coming from a wacko looking son-of-a-bitch like you. Got yourself thinkin’ your hot shit, huh? You even own turf? You ain’t that dangerous if you can’t even take down no Overlords!” The male cat laughed, and laughed hard. So hard he put his paw over his face forgetting about the blood coating it. 

“You must be new... I’ve established enough territory that even these woods could be considered mine. Unless, you want to battle me for them.” A nonsensical bluff he blustered. Alastor knew better than to meddle with this sinner. His skin didn’t look to appetizing for his room tastes. 

“That right? Well, color me impressed. Tell you what, we ever cross paths again I might give that little ‘boon’ of yours. Till then, fuck off or I’ll eat you next.” The cat spat as magnificent wings spread out; the feathers a deeper red than the blood of his body and longer than the cat demon’s body. They took him off the ground with such grace as he disappeared into the blood red sky, leaving the deer demon in open-mouthed awe.

‘What a joyous encounter that had been! Not one for first impressions though.’ Alastor chuckled to himself as he walked away from the most spectacular scene of madness and murder ever displayed. They would cross paths sooner than the mysterious beauty thought. He’d make sure of it.

                                            ____________________

After months of wearing the feline sinner down, the moment of a lifetime had come to Alastor. The cat ran his giant paw over his face as he spoke into his bottle of booze. 

“What was that? I speak three languages but gargle isn’t one.”

Smartass. 

The cat swallowed his cheap swill slowly before looking Alastor right in his eyes.

“Husk.” Tone flat and deadpanned. 

Falling in love wasn’t something he planned on doing, but now no one was permitted to have Husk the way Alastor did.

A/N: Hello! I am late to RadioHusk week! A whole, freakin’ week late. Long story short, my computer’s charger broke and slowly my laptop just sat and died on me. I just a new one today and am now ready to begin my version of day one. Enjoy!!