#i do not want my nails to be either too short or long and ripped this is important

[hellohoihey]

I won’t wear make-up or pay extra attention to my hair in order to impress people, however I Will cut my nails a specific amount of days in advance of a dinner party with friends so that they’ll be the right length

[sweet-honey-tears]

↠ Their Hair ↞

Plot: What happens when you touch their hair? How do they react?

Characters: Kirishima, Denki, Bakugou, Mina, Shinso, Todoroki X GENDER NEUTRAL READER

Setting: Pretty much final year of UA.

Thank you all so much for your support. I don’t think y’all understand how much your comments or hashtags make my day. Not joking when I say they give me motivation- I hope you like this!🤍 Also this is my first time writing for Mina, so I hope you like it! 🤍🌸

🪨 Kirishima 🪨

Kirishima never really let anyone touch his hair. He’s the one who spikes it or puts a bandana in it- which in itself doesn’t allow people to touch it. It’s not like he’s protective of his hair, it was just how it happened. Kirishima was also responsible for dying his hair. He figured it would just be cheaper and easier than going to a salon. A train ticket, payment, and tip were a bit too pricey. Plus it was a time-consuming process already and leaving campus to go to a salon would only add to this. Time was precious when training to be a hero, and Kiri couldn’t seem to fit it into his day. And regrettably, it’s what led him to his current situation, his black roots now almost an inch and a half grown.

“Hey Kiri, you okay? Ya, look a bit distracted.” Your chipper voice brought him out of his thoughts. He was scrolling through his phone looking at different hair dye brands. The last one dried out his hair and quickly faded.

“Huh, oh yeah, just looking at hair dye. Gotta re-do this soon.” He airily laughed. His hand rubbed the back of his head.

“Oh, I can help if you want.”

Kirishima never knew he had a sensitive skull till that day. But when you brushed your fingers through his wet hair, he got sparks going down his spine. He watched you calmly help wash out the remaining red, your finger brushing through the strands. He remembers watching a movie with Eri, where monsters felt a ZING when they found love. He’s pretty sure he just felt that.

“Almost done Kiri!”

“A-alright!”

Kirishimas just closes his eyes and relaxes against the tub at the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair carefully.

⚡Denki ⚡

Denki knew he didn’t have a sensitive skull. Bakugou likes to say it's a wonder Denki even has feelings in his head at all. But he does, and sometimes he wishes he didn’t. Like when Eri accidentally ripped a knot from his long hair while brushing it. But that doesn’t stop him from allowing people to play with it. Eri does his and Shinsos hair quite a bit, putting little cat clips in it while quietly talking about her day. All that said, Denki just likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair, not even touching his skull - just hair. He’s found you mindlessly do it a lot when zoning out with him. So sometimes he'll sit between your legs on the ground. His back is against the couch you sit on and your legs are on either side of him. There are times there just wasn't enough sitting room in the common area. And as always, your fingers mindlessly comb through his golden hair. Brushing out any small knot there.

You look down at him at the feeling of his head shifting. His chin pointed up and his eyes looked into yours. You know that look, heaving a sigh

you lean down to kiss his forehead.

“Tch”

“Right back at you boom boom boy.”

💥 Bakugou 💥

Bakugou likes the feeling of your nails on the back of his neck. Moving through the short hair that’s there to the soft blonde spikes.

Only you get to touch his hair. No one else. Not one.

But when you koala hug him, he sees starts. You are sitting on his lap as he works on his homework. Your face is in the crook of his neck, your legs off his to the side and barely touching the floor due to how high the chair is. You have one arm around his torso and the other one over his shoulder.

“Kit, are you almost done?”

“Not yet, Teddy, I have one more problem.”

You grumble, the pads of your fingers going to his neck and rubbing the short hair there. Bakugou sighs, his body relaxing. He mindlessly brings his hand up to your back rubbing it up and down. He can feel your body relax, lightly sighing as your fingers pause. Bakugou continues rubbing your back, but after a minute of your stilled movement, he stops.

“Hm Bakugou-“ you grumble angrily.

“What?”

“You're so mean” you groan, your fingers starting again and ‘coincidentally’ his hand starts rubbing your back till you eventually doze off.

💤 Shinso 💤

Shinso had to cut his hair after it got stuck in his voice changer. His hair also constantly was getting knotted due to his capture weapon. The fabric kept rubbing against the base of his neck, causing knots and mess. How Azawia did it was beyond him. Long hair and a scarf? Annoying.

Shinso was nervous the day he cut it, somewhat worried about what you would say. But he also figured if this was the defining factor in your relationship, then it wasn't worth it. If his necessary haircut caused a ripple in your relationship, then it wasn't as strong as he thought. The thought shook him.

He kept the length and had the sides buzzed, giving him an undercut.

“Shin!” Your voice called, you were always so happy to see him.

“Hey there Kitten” he speaks lowly, opening his arms to welcome your smaller form. He smiles down at you as you look up at him, your arms wrapped around him. And then he watches it click.

“Holy shit.” You say almost airily. And all Shinso can think is ‘Oh fuck.’ “You look so fucking hot.”

Shinso’s cheeks heat up instantly, his ears tinting red as his mouth hangs open a bit at your reaction. Your hands snake up his neck, and he unconsciously shrinks down a bit. A pleasant sigh leaves his lips at the feeling of your fingers on his newly buzzed hair.

“Feel good Shin?” you coo in his ear, your hand sliding to his cheek and resting on his jawline. Your thumb lightly rubbed his cheek.

“You have no idea, Kitten.” He grumbles, leaning down to kiss you.

🌸 Mina 🌸

Mina generally just loves physical affection. Her form of affection is physical touch. Any form of touch, even if it’s just slightly grazing your fingertips. But it’s always more than that, Mina comes behind you and squeezes you. She jumps on your back someday. She’ll run up to you just for a hug. Grab your hand or arm and lead you anywhere. On calmer days though, she’ll lay in between your legs. Against you, chest to chest. She’ll press her face into your chest or under your chin, and rest her arms around your middle. Mina will put music on, having the both of you share an airpod. Even though you don’t need the AirPods, they make the moment more intimate. Like you’re in your own world.

Your hand rest on the back of Mina's neck. Careful to not tug one of her tight pink curls and cause it to frizz. You know better than to brush through her curly hair, and instead, settle on just smoothing your thumb over the small hair there. Mina just hums, happy at your consideration and for the quiet moment you two share.

🧊 Todoroki 🔥

Shoto has a bit longer hair in his final years of UA, starting to unintentionally grow it out. Another break away from his childhood. Shoto wasn't used to physical touch until he came to UA, so every little touch is more comfortable than anything. It’s a feeling of safety whenever you run your hands through its hair. Whenever you comb back the longer strands or move them from his eyes as the wind pushes them around. How your fingers delicately touch the strands to ensure you accidentally hit him.

He smiles so softly and will close his eyes as your finger brushes up his bangs, allowing you to kiss his forehead. You have to lower back down from your tippy toes to look back up at him.

“Tell her I say hi Sho.” You smile up at him, your hand in his as you squeeze them. Shoto was going with his siblings to visit his mother.

Shoto stares down at you like he’s holding the world. So much comfort and love packaged in you.

“I will baby” he sighs, his smile still on his lips. Your hands go up to cup his face, your thumbs rubbing his cheek.

“I love you.” you sigh, pulling him down to kiss him goodbye. Knowing today would be emotional for him, and his siblings as well.

[bubblybloob]

Stubborn, Skeptic, and Contrarian bonding over reading poetry? Maybe Adversary too? Poetry club! :D

(Inspired by that scene in Adversary where Player can be all dramatic like ‘write music notes with our blood!’ or smth like that and both Stubby and Addy get emotional, and that one scene in StrangerReset ending where where she describes the warmth she feels and Contra gets emotional)

(Also I feel like Skeptic would love interpreting poetry)

I don’t know why this one took so long, nor why it took so much out of me. Either way it’s a cute concept!

Adversary is reconsidering her life decisions talking to Contrarian, and Stubborn is overwhelmed by whatever rant Skeptic has subjected him to.

Some writing below

“You know…” Stubborn shifted, looking at Adversary as she huffed, placing her chin into her open palm. “What the main bird said makes me want to learn how to write poetry.”

Stubborn nodded. “Me too, but I’m no good at anything of that caliber, that’s the thespian and plank of wood’s thing.”

Adversary squinted, seemingly at nothing, before turning to him. ��Maybe…”

“No.”

“Oh why not!” She says, more of an accusation than a question. “You say they’re annoying-“

“Insufferable.”

“-but it can’t be that hard to learn more in depth writing! It’s like- it’s like punching things, yeah? You just- do it.” She gestures with a quick punch of her own, leaving a large, fist imprint in the now broken wall. Oof, Tower will be raging up a storm when she sees the damage.

“Don’t ask me!”

“Then let’s go ask them.”

“No! Skeptic stops speaking any understandable form of English after mere minutes, and Contrarian is just flat annoying.”

“Yes!”

“I won’t budge on this.”

“And what makes you think I will either?”

—

Ultimately their argument would lead to a fight filled with broken horns and ripped feathers. In a moment where his balance was thrown, Stubborn’s scruff would be grabbed; no longer could he easily reach her to pry her off of him, not with his nails dragging down her arm at such an awkward angle. Adversary was forced to drag the fired up bird to the last two faces he wanted to see.

“Ohohoho! What’s this then?”

“Well isn’t this a curious sight.”

Agony, agony was what this was, and agony he’d have to endure for the next few hours of his life.

—

Dunno what this was. It’s short and pretty shit, but I felt kind of bad after not posting art for a while. So there’s some of my writing, eat or starve.

[heartfullofleeches]

ok but creep reader and yan imaginary friend is actually so cute I love them

These two have my entire heart rn - love seeing creep Reader actually happy. Here's a short of Creep Reader practicing expressions with Maisie

-

Before you there are three index cards held by three hands. Three separate situations where you failed to convey the proper emotions suited for the scene you were in. The farthest to your left depicts a drawing of two stick figures standing on either side of a grave. One kneels beside the stone, tears dripping from its eyes and the thin line its lips dragged downward. The other figure stares forward - a question mark scribbled in place of its mouth.

"Your friend has experienced a death in the family and called you over to cheer them up. What is the appropriate face to make when hearing the news?"

Soft crying sounds from the corner of your room just above your bed. Twisting shadows swallowing the sight of your ceiling contort in ways that lay out the piece of the expression you attempted to copy. Drooping eyelids, the slight downward pull of one's lips, slanted inner brows. Your face scrunches awkwardly as you mirror what's shown. Sadness was one of the hardest to fake, thought it would seem you passed with flying colors as the index card is checked off with a red marker and the next is pulled into view - hands falling to your back with a celebratory pat as you granted your facial muscles with a minute's relief.

The next card shows two figures stands on either sides of a fence. One appears to be smiling and trying to communicate to the other while it simply stares forward with that same mark on its face.

"Your neighbor has been trying to talk to you for the past ten minutes when you already told them you have important business elsewhere. They are blocking your escape route and take your passive expression as you needing to open up more. What do you do?"

This one's a little easier since it happened not too long ago, and dealted with feelings you harbored somewhere deep down. Your jaw tenses, brows furrowed and nostrils flaring as your nails sink into the soft flesh of your palms. You receive three marks for that card - and a round of applause from your audience. Onto the last card.

The final card is the toughest to get through, and look at. You shift against your mattress, that familiar itch of discomfort clawing at your back and throat. The hands on your back kneed at the the tension weighting on your muscles as the stress builds. The stick figure sits dead center in a crowd of laughing faces. A few throw odd glances at the lone figure, smiles uneasy.

"You have been dragged to a party. People are telling jokes and a few people notice that you aren't laughing. What do you do?"

Bile rises in your throat - the acidity, and the queezy feeling in your stomach throwing off the shakey upturn of your lips as you fight through the nauseous to keep them upright. You can still feel their eyes on you. Closing around you, singling you out. It makes your skin feel so tight. You scratch and claw at the sore spots, but the itch never goes away. It never goes away until they do. Til all the eyes are off you. They're always around you and never go away. You just want to pluck them out so they'll never look at you again.

The hands move to your shoulders as you pull your legs to your chest. More limbs shoot from the shadows and huddle around you like a protective blanket as your body starts to tremble. Unseen eyes hone in on the smiling faces. A hand lifts the marker and drives it into the eye of the face nearest to the stick figure. The ink bleeds through the thin paper, leaving red streaks in its The hand lifts the card and shows it to you as soft purrs rubble from the corners of your room.

"You're right Maisie.... It would been pretty funny if he had poked his friends eye out with that fire stirrer...."

The hands tear off a corner of the card, ripping one of the faces in two. Your chest feels lighter as a tiny hiccup of laughter bursts from your lips.

"I thought she was about to fall out of that window too. Not the best way to start off a modeling career if you ask me."

Your laughter bounces off the walls as you imagine the faces of everyone standing below the sill as the body hit the hard concrete. Going home and losing their shit further when they find chunks of brain matter stuck to the bottom of their shoe. The cramps in your stomach worsen as you rolling over on your side, giggling like a madman. Hands cup your face, wiping away your hysteria laced tears. They pinch at your cheeks, holding the hazed grin plaguing your features as the flash from your camera blinds you - capturing your perfect expression.

Sighing, you wrap your arms around the wrist of your unseen ally. "Thanks, Maze. Whenever I need to laugh, I'll just imagine you ripping someone's head off - if that's okay with you."

A hand strokes your head, gentle coos signing anything was okay with them as long as you were happy.

[dokiluvsk]

⚠️ POLITICAL POST ⚠️

With the recent election and the fact that i have many trans friends, id like to talk about some issues that i otherwise wouldnt talk about on my main blog.

Just to get this out of the way, i am not trans. I do not know and will not pretend to know how dysphoria feels, socially and physically. As well as the many other struggles trans people face day to day. However, my best friend is trans. So i do at least have a better understanding of it than i did say a year ago.

This election has been chaos. Its invoked fear not only in American's, but the world. The "Land of the Free" shouldn't make the world piss itself simply because of election day. And the lives of the LGBTQ+ Community, POC, and women all over the country are now endangered. For this post, i will be talking mainly about LGBTQ+ rights and my thoughts. Specifically because thats the area im most worried about right now. This is in no way to say that POC rights or Woman's rights are less important, that is not at all what i am saying. I plan to make separate posts for each of these 3 subjects in the next month, i want to dive into each of them fully and not have to skip over any details about our future (As an indigenous, gay woman.) So consider this 1/3 Parts of a very, long post.

Transitioning into the actual conversation, This election has been terrible. Millions of kids around the country terrified to have their rights taken away, the fear of how powerless they are and how little they get a say in politics is the driving nail in this coffin. Remember people, gay marriage hasn't even been legal in America for 10 years! Everything is very uncertain, and I wish people would understand the LGBTQ communities worries more. Our people are killed, tortured, and taunted around the world every single day. There aren't many countries nowadays where LGBTQ people have ALL their human rights, no strings attached. And one of the biggest countries in the world, supposedly the land of the free , is now trying to rip those rights away again. So many people i know are currently fleeing the country, planning to leave as soon as they are financially stable, or are mourning because they aren't able to. Thats horrid.

What i am especially worried about is transgender youth and transgender people in general. This is the part where my personal political opinions really come into play, if you aren't a fan, you can click off the post. Or read! i don't care! i encourage you all however to stick around and comment or reblog this post, telling me your opinions on the matter. I genuinely would like to hear to get more insight on my audiences views.

The reason i've been so worried about trans people specifically is because changing your gender is very different from loving someone romantically. Yes, we are all the same community. That is certain, and I am in no way trying to alienate trans people. But changing your gender is a physical, mental, and social challenge. Trying to get T or HRT? nope! sorry! top or bottom surgery? yoink! cant have that one either! oh you wanna cut your hair short or grow it out long? good luck with all the bullying and teasing you'll face! haha sorry kid! thats just the good ol' American way 😁

On a now serious note, I think im getting my point across. I can hide the fact im dating a girl, i can hide that from the neighbors across the street, trans people cannot hide their physical transitioning. Social transitioning cant even begin to happen because of uncertainties of your safety. You are denied medical products, denied public spaces, denied even trans unrelated healthcare, those aren't JUST trans rights, those are HUMAN rights. And I don't think republicans realize that mental toll. This isn't attention seeking, this is justice seeking. Do y'all know how many teenagers and adults contemplate suicide because of an unaccepting society? too fucking many. That number should be 0, yet never has been. Do y'all know how many gay teens and adults have to hide their love from the world? way too fucking many!

My girlfriend and I are obviously 2 different people. I am out of the closet, i have been for years and years. I am fortunate enough to have a family who accepts me and loves me. I am fortunate enough to have friends for the past few years who are also apart of the community, i am fortunate enough to have religious friends who don't hate or deny who I am. My girlfriend cannot come out to her family out of fear, she cannot be public about who she is, she does not have as safe of a space as I do. Despite me and my girlfriend both loving each other and being in the same community, we have very different personal lives. kind of like 2 sides of the same coin. No LGBTQ persons experience is the same. Every single one of us is different, you know why?? because we are fucking human! LGBTQ people are HUMAN! just like everyone else! what is it going to take to get that through politicians heads?? we deserve access to healthcare, we deserve to be able to comfortably talk about our lives, we shouldn't have to lie, hide and suppress ourselves just to be safe and live a normal life.

I hope the community hears me on this, LGBTQ people, do NOT kill yourself. do NOT do it. do not be scared, you need to remember that at the end of the day, nobody, not even your governors, can silence you. You have free will, the world is literally your oyster. Stay strong, I love you ❤️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[pristine-rose]

✧ CROSSING MY HEART ( I’D RATHER DIE )

⊹ characters : ayato, yelan, albedo, shenhe

⊹ synopsis : their reaction when they realize they’re in love with you ( so deeply it almost hurts )

⊹ warnings : none, completely sfw :] kinda dramatic

⊹ female reader, not proofread, just short drabbles, shenhe’s slightly models the scene from les miserables

alice ?! writing sfw ?! how unheard of … i just wanted to test something folks !! it’s a wild ride on this app

⊹ KAMISATO AYATO

There’s a pang in his chest, one so painful as he looks at you.

At first he thinks he despises you. He hates small talk, after all — and small talk is all he gets with you. Perhaps he is annoyed. Yeah, that might be it. He’s never been in love before. Crushes? Sure. But he hasn’t found the time for love with the busy life he lives — he wasn’t even sure if he knew the meaning of such an abstract concept.

So when realization comes crashing down on him like a tidal wave, it initially stopped his entire body in his tracks. Even in the middle of this busy, Liyuean market street; Even on the way to an international business meeting; Even if he was so short in time — his body halted, no matter how much he wanted it to keep walking forward. He mind filled up with the thoughts and realizations of his feelings for you so unwillingly, though the only thing in his mind just a few seconds prior was this meeting. And now it’s you — all of you in some childish, lovesick and foolish way of thinking.

…This was why he turned he a blind eye to love. This was why a busy, public man should not even experience love. This is why, that instead of feeling euphoric, his nails dug into his chest through his clothes in the middle of the street, so firm and so still as if trying to claw his heart out. Because… he wanted to rip it out of his body, he really did. He wanted to shred it, stomp on it, blast it to shreds if it meant he could get rid of this loud, annoying thumping right now. If it meant he could focus on this meeting, he would do it.

If it meant he didn’t have to feel this silly little love for you anymore, he would do it.

☁️ —

⊹ YELAN

It’s a needy feeling, and she doesn’t like it.

She’s quite late to realizing it despite falling so quickly — which she doesn’t realize, either. She’s one to stop for no hesitation if she sees what she wants. If she wants it, she’ll get it; And if she doesn’t, well, that’s a story unheard of.

So being in love with you was a frustrating, unsatisfactory reach. It was a constant reaching and pulling just to get you in her grasp. Such a loop of mindless, silent begging in her head just to see you turn and smile at her again. And the more she got it from you, the more she wanted it. How was she supposed to know that her desperation to have you be around her every day was actually romantic feelings for you? How was she supposed to realize that she was asking for too much?

She’s a jealous one, and that was really how it came spiraling down. She’s never been this annoyed to see you with someone else before. It casted a certain type of void in her chest — one that was akin to the feeling whenever she wanted something so badly. And yet, this one was stronger.

There was a needy pull at her heart. It felt weird; And it felt worse knowing she had to play a waiting-game. Such an unsatisfactory feeling of waiting to win this game made her more annoyed than she bargained for. And all over a person, too. She could not stop and relish in any happiness or joy of love; she could not bask in smiles or fluttery feelings around you.

Yelan always got what she wanted. But this might be the most annoyingly long game she’s ever played to win.

☁️ —

⊹ ALBEDO

It’s the soul-crushing moment he feels his body malfunctioning.

Damned butterflies in his stomach, a hellish pounding in his chest — it wraps around him like he’s suffocating for such wasted air he is instead spending on thinking about you. Air he could’ve used for potions, or for experiments, or for oxidizing. But instead he stands so still, stiller then he ever has before, just to breathe out a shaky sigh.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he focus? He had research to do, and a goal from his own mother to accomplish. And yet, he stood here like a lovesick fool thinking about the weighting feelings these simple-minded Mondstadters called “Love.” The very thing he saw people die for in storybooks — the very thing he pitied, for people would waste the entirety of their lives just to find.

He hates it. He can barely admit it. Because how can he allow himself, when he wasn’t created for such a thing in the first place? It hurts, like his body rejects it the moment it surfaces. Love is such a human thing, he feels he should be incapable of it, though he also feels he doesn’t deserve it, either. To crave being with you felt like death to himself — perhaps this was just another trial his Master planned for him. Yes… Yes, just another trial to get over. Just another hurdle — one strong enough to plant your ringing voice in his mind for hours on end — to overcome and achieve his end goal.

He stays closed up in the mountains for his upcoming days. He hopes you don’t feel this way, too.

☁️ —

⊹ SHENHE

It’s a quiet realization, one that has her leg bouncing so rapidly that her shoe aimlessly taps on the pavement.

She doesn’t understand it, of course. It’s not like she thinks she ever will, either. But it’s absolutely exhilarating. She feels like she just drank pure substance of sweet flowers or tasted the finest of sugars, for her heart was racing a mile a minute and her body could barely keep up. What was this thumping in her chest, and why did it get louder when you locked eyes?

An admiration at first sight — right on the busy, open street market of Liyue Harbor — had her spiraling in seconds. To bask in the essence of the ocean’s breeze painting the scene between you both. Was it even possible to feel this way from mere eye contact? Many questions; So many, in face, she almost considered you were an adepti roaming this human land. In the matter of milliseconds, her head was racing with thoughts and imaginations of what sort of supernatural you could be, or what sort of human you were.

The thought of the color of your eyes even through this crowd of people sent her mind into wonders. It was like magic, one that even Cloud Retainer could never come close to. This enchantment in the human realm was a drug like no other, and in that moment alone she was ready to sink into it forever.

And in this single, passing moment, she finally felt a true sense of humanity at her heartstrings.

☁️ —

[honeyedmiller]

American Jesus | Javier Peña

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

warnings: smut, literally just smut, smutty smut smut, and oh look, more smut! (also mentions of smoking, edging, defying religion???? [I guess if you wanna call it that or even say that???], cursing, pet names, no use of y/n... also, this is not meant to be disrespectful toward anyone's religion at all. just wanted to put that out there. so yeah. that's all I think). 18+. minors dni.

word count: 1.9k

*= i changed the lyric from green eyes to brown eyes for obvious reasons

based on the song 'American Jesus' by Nessa Barrett.

-

He's got a cross on his neck, but he spends Sundays in my bed

Javier's cross necklace dangles in your face as he hovers over you, lips parted, pupils blown, as he moves his thick fingers in and out of you in a salacious manner. The sounds you're emitting from your throat are nothing short of erotic as you call out his name like a prayer, nails leaving plentiful scratch marks along his back.

"Look at you, cariño. You're a mess just from my fingers. Can't wait to find out what this cock will do to you." His voice is domineering, and you can hear the fucking smirk the bastard has on his lips. He's been edging you for the last fifteen minutes, and you were about to lose your shit if he kept this up. You ached for release, bad, and your impending orgasm was so hot and heavy in your core that tears started to well in your eyes at the near torture he was doing unto you.

"Fuck, Javi, please, please fucking let me cum." The tears fall down your cheeks, and he coos at you.

"Ay mi pobrecita. Since you asked so nicely." He presses the pad of his thumb to your sensitive clit, rubbing circles around it. His skilled fingers have you coming undone in no time, your orgasm ripping through you like a wave in the ocean. You're screaming his name, and there's no doubt his neighbors absolutely hate you both right now.

He's my blue jean little baby, with a halo on his head

"Quit staring at my ass, cariño." Javier warns, giving you a pointed look.

"What? Not my fault it looks good in those tight jeans." The shit-eating grin you toss his way makes him roll his eyes and shake his head. The light behind Javier gave him a specific glow on the top of his head, giving him a halo effect. The scene in front of you was ironic, really, because Javier was nowhere near an angel. Not with that fucking sinful tongue of his, that did so much more than just shit talk.

That same tongue had you calling out god's name with the way it worked its magic on you.

He's got lips like cherry wine, and cigarette smoke on his breath

Javier's lips were nothing short of addicting. Any chance you got to kiss him, you did. His plush lips always kept you in a daze, and drunk on the man that is Javier Peña. He never kissed you half-assedly, either. You often wondered if he kissed other women the way he kissed you, too.

"What's on your mind cariño?" His eyes are trained on you lost in thought, curiosity getting the best of him.

"Nothing, Javi."

"Don't give me that. Seriously, what's on your mind?" His hand grazes your thigh as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

"Do you kiss your other women like you kiss me?" You blurt out your previous thought without even giving it a once-over in your mind.

"There are no other women, baby. Not anymore," His hand is feather-light as it trails up your thigh, sending goosebumps down your legs. He removes the cigarette from his mouth before pressing his lips to yours with such neediness, never letting you get a chance to catch your breath.

Javier was a passionate man when he wanted to be, and goddamn did he never hold back when it came to you. His hand found its way to your core as he rubbed over the fabric covering you. You moaned his name out which to him, was heaven to his ears.

Before yanking your underwear off of you, he paused and whispered against your lips.

"Only you."

He's got pretty long brown hair, and brown* eyes that look like sex

Javier’s dark brown eyes are ardent as they roam over every inch of your body. His dark locks were a mess as he indeed looked very freshly fucked… because he was.

You’d just blown his mind with possibly some of the best sex he's ever had in his life. No one compared to you, and you made sure to let him know that. He was your man.

He was trying to catch his breath after what had to've been the fifth orgasm he's had tonight. You were a vixen tonight and nothing could've stopped you from pleasing your man, over and over and over again.

Javier had been incredibly stressed at work, and you knew he needed to take the edge off, so you were there to let him know you'd take care of him and his needs tonight.

Javier thought you were a god send. No woman had ever made him cum like that in his entire sex life, and fuck if he was going to ever let you go. Not only were you amazing in bed, but you showed him that you genuinely cared about him and his well-being, not just through sex.

His hooded eyes scanned your features, looking at you lovingly.

"Mine." Was all he said before pulling you to him, kissing your head and wrapping his arms around you before he drifted off into a much needed sleep.

Knees down at your altar, please don’t fail me now

"Fuck, corazón, you look breathtaking in that dress." Javier's eyes are ravenous once more as they rake over your body with absolute hunger. It was a hot day in Colombia, so the black flowy minidress you were wearing was fitting for the sticky weather.

Javier pulled you in by your hips so you were flush against his strong body. Your hands rested comfortably on his chest. You felt his elevated heart rate beneath your fingertips, and your own heart swelled at how you made him feel. He may not have always told you, but he definitely showed you.

Javier slowly sank to his knees in front of you, leaving you confused.

"What are you doing, Javi?" Your voice is meek as your own heart rate starts to pick up.

He doesn't say a word as he lifts the hem of your dress up, exposing your thighs and light pink thong you chose to wear for the day. One of his hands cradled the back of your thigh while the other held the dress up, and he moved his face to you to kiss your clothed core.

You moan softly at the feeling. Javier's eyes are full of determination as he hooks the hand that was previously holding your dress up into the hem of your underwear, pulling the cloth down your legs with ease.

"Javi, we're going to be late to dinner with Steve and Connie."

Ignoring your comment, he moans at the sight of your already soaked core, moving his head back to you and under your dress. He gently grabs the back of both of your thighs this time, coaxing you to spread your legs a little further. You have to put your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself.

He wasted no time indulging you as he licked a hot, wet stripe up your core. You gasped in shock, knees already wanting to buckle under you.

"Mm, baby you always taste so fuckin' good. Fuck." And he doesn't stop lapping you up and sucking your swollen clit until you convulse violently above him, causing you to sink to your knees as well.

"I've got you, corazón. Always."

You know all my secrets American Jesus, baby

"You're terrible at hiding your emotions, you know." Javier is watching you with an amused look, cocking an eyebrow up at you.

"Fuck off, Javi." You roll your eyes, and his gaze darkens.

"I'd like to fuck something, alright." His voice drips like pure venom as he watches your every move. You immediately feel an ache in your core at his words, and of course, your face shows it all.

"Too easy. I know all your secrets, baby, every last one of them." Javier chuckles at your disposition, an annoyed look overtaking your needy one.

You stick a middle finger up at him, rolling your eyes.

"C'mere, then, cariño. Don't keep me waiting."

Won’t you take me to Heaven tonight?

Javier snapped his hips at a pace against yours that nearly knocked the breath out of you. He always stretched you in such an intoxicating way, you almost wanted to stay like this forever.

"Look at you, cariño. Fucking you dumb on my cock and you're taking it so fucking well. That's it baby." Javier's voice was thick and full of lust, a sheen coat of sweat all over his body. His focus was solely on you and the inaudible moans coming from you as your jaw was slack and eyebrows were laced together.

He gripped your hips so hard you were sure he was going to leave bruises, but you fucking loved it. You were drunk on Javier's cock and he knew it.

He had you seeing stars with the pace he was going. It was ruthless, relentless, and almost unbearable, but the pain quickly subsided into pleasure every time he bottomed out into you.

You were convinced being with him like this, as rough and pleasurable as it was, was what heaven felt like and damn, you never wanted to leave.

You know you’re my weakness American Jesus, save me

"Javi," You're a panting mess just by his fingertips lightly brushing over your body.

"So needy, corazón." He was teasing you and having the time of his life while doing so.

"Please, I need you." The desperation in your voice almost made you want to cringe, but you couldn't help it. This man was your sole weakness and you'd be damned if you couldn't have him. He was so intoxicating. He was like a drug. Your drug.

His good looks and charming charisma are what had you wrapped around his finger... not to mention his soft side he only reserved for you. You were in love with it all, and even though he didn't know it yet, you had a strong feeling he felt the same way too.

You’re the greatest love of my life

You rested your head on Javier's bare chest as he stroked your hair lovingly. For the first time, he wanted to make love to you. He wanted to take it slower and savor you—your smell, your taste, the way your bare body felt against his—everything about you.

He was scared to admit it at first, but he knew that you'd be it for him. You're the love of his life. He never thought he'd be capable of love again after leaving his high school sweetheart at the altar, but here he is, head over heels for you and everything you are.

You made him so soft, but just for you. He wanted to take care of you, not just intimately, but support you emotionally and mentally. Hell, he could even see himself having kids with you, and that's something he was so sure of that he never wanted—until you came along.

He looked down at you in adoration, and figured this was the best time to admit his feelings for you. The fresh after-sex glow you had on your face was reserved just for him, and it made him weak in the knees.

"I love you, cariño." His voice is barely above a whisper, and if you weren't completely alert, you would've missed it.

You freeze, taking in his words carefully. This was a huge confession, especially for Javier. You completely melted into him, kissing the bare skin beneath you.

"Oh, Javi," Looking up at him with nothing but love in your eyes, you bring his lips down to yours. You kiss him softly before pulling apart, whispering against his lips, "Te amo para siempre."

He smiled softly down at you, and he knew then that he was hooked, forever.

American Jesus

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Anchor

A/N: it starts off a little angsty and then gets a little silly. I hope the sex scene isn't too silly. I just think that sometimes sex with Eddie can be silly. He's a silly man.

18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Steve needs to come down from his panic attack. Eddie helps him out.

It was the fourth of July, 1986. . .exactly one year since Starcourt. Steve had been feeling twitchy all day and very on edge. He couldn't sleep last night either. Nightmares plagued him all night long. He heard the term from Hopper before. The anniversary effect. He knows the signs of PTSD. Hopper had sat them all down to explain what to look for and what to do when something like this happened. Steve should have called Eddie to cancel, but Steve had been looking forward to hanging out with one of his best friends all week. This would be the first time they would be hanging out alone, and for some reason, Steve was really looking forward to that. A knock on the door nearly caused him to jump out of his skin.

"Is he knocking to the beat of a Metallica song?" Steve asked himself, and he smiled softly. "It's definitely Eddie."

Steve opened the door and grinned at the sight of Eddie. He wore tight black cut-off shorts, a stripped crop top with cut-off sleeves, and his hair was braided down his back. There were sparkly butterfly barrettes pinning his bangs back.

"Uh, hey, Eddie," Steve said, staring at him in confusion.

"El was hanging out at Max's trailer, I didn't want to say no to the kid," Eddie said, shrugging his shoulders and grinning.

"You spoil her," Steve said grinning fondly at him.

"She deserves it," Eddie said.

"Yeah, she does," Steve said. "By the way, did you knock to the tune of a Metallica song?"

"If you know it through a door, then something tells me that you've been listening to it without me. Stevie. . .are you a secret fan?" Eddie asked, smirking.

"Shut up," Steve said blushing.

He didn't want to tell him that he was listening to the music when he wasn't around because, well, he didn't know why he did it. He recognized the top Eddie was wearing. It was his old black polo that he had given Eddie. It looked better on him than it ever did on Steve. He grinned when he realized that Eddie had ripped off the buttons, leaving a slit open in the middle of his chest. He was showing off his tattoos and not just his tattoos but his scars as well. Eddie had never been afraid to show them off.

"You going to let me in, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, right," he said stepping aside.

Just as Eddie was walking by him, a set of fireworks went off in the distance. Steve jumped and grabbed Eddie's bicep, gripping it tightly.

"Stevie?" Eddie asked softly.

Eddie placed a gentle hand over the top of Steve’s hand. The sight of Eddie's nails painted a red glittery color caused him to break from his reverie, and he laughed.

"The food is getting cold," Steve said as he closed the door behind Eddie.

"Don't worry. The fireworks fuck me up too," Eddie replied as he followed him into the kitchen. "Stevie! You ordered my favorite. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

"Please, if I were trying to seduce you, I would do better than pineapple pizza," Steve replied.

"You dare insult the food of gods?!" Eddie exclaimed and Steve laughed.

"You and Argyle should start a long-haired, weed smoking, pineapple pizza loving club," Steve laughed.

"Oh, we already have," Eddie said cheerfully. "By the way, that dude can smoke me under the table."

Steve tried to focus on what was happening inside of the house. They were watching a movie, their empty plates lying on the coffee table. Eddie was sitting so close to him that his shoulder was brushing against his. He tried to focus on Eddie, but there were fireworks going off outside, and suddenly, the guy on the TV started speaking Russian. Steve tried to breathe but found that he couldn't. His chest hurt, and his entire body was trembling. He let out a gasp as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Who do you work for?!"

"I told you! Scoops Ahoy!" Steve screamed. "I swear!"

Steve screamed when they hit him again. He wanted it to stop. He was begging it to stop.

"I don't believe you! How did you find us?!"

He was crazy. This man was crazy. After he hit him, the man ran a hand through his hair, and it was sickening how gentle he was because Steve knew it wasn't real. It was just another tactic. Steve hated the way he leaned in at first, and then he yanked himself away. He hated that he was crying.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," the man said softly. "Just tell us who you work for, and this will all stop. It's okay."

"Steve?!" Eddie's panicked voice broke him out of his memory.

Steve was gasping for breath, and he was crying. Why was he crying?

"I - can't -," Steve trembled.

"Stevie, can I touch you?" Eddie asked.

Eddie placed his hands on his shoulders. Steve flinched but relaxed when he realized it was Eddie who was touching him. He trusted Eddie. The fireworks were still going off, and Steve still couldn't breathe.

"I was telling the truth, Eddie," Steve sobbed. "They still wouldn't stop. T-they wouldn't stop."

"You need to breathe for me, Stevie," Eddie said. "Focus. Breathe in and out, okay? Can you focus on my voice?"

"I'm trying!" Steve snapped.

"I've been reading about this. Okay. Um, you need to focus on the moment. You're safe, okay? Nothing is going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Stevie, do you trust me?" Eddie asked.

"Of course," Steve gasped.

"I need to anchor you. I need you to come back down, and this is the only way I can think to do it. Can I?" Eddie asked and Steve nodded.

Eddie cupped his face and pressed his lips to Steve’s softly. He could feel Steve relax, and his breathing became steady. Steve started moving his lips against Eddie's, softly at first, and then it became hungry. Eddie could taste the salt of his tears on his lips and the desperation on his tongue. Steve broke the kiss, smiling.

"I think I'm properly anchored now," Steve said, and another firework went off. "Ugh, I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."

"You're telling me that you need help, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

The two young men stumbled upstairs, and once again, Eddie was pushing Steve against a wall. This time, it was the wall of his bedroom, and he was pressed up against him completely, grinding against Steve’s thigh as they kissed. Steve broke the kiss to take off his shirt and smirked at the hungry look in Eddie's eyes. Eddie grinned and went to take off his own shirt. . .and got stuck.

"Steve! Something went wrong! I got stuck! Steve! Stop laughing, asshole! How am I supposed to see your tits?!" Eddie panicked.

Steve continued to laugh as he helped Eddie out of his shirt. He took off the butterfly clips and set them on his dresser. He cupped Eddie's face and kissed him deeply.

"That was very sexy," Steve giggled.

"Fuck off," Eddie said.

Eddie grabbed him by the back of his thighs and picked him up into his arms.

"Jesus!" Steve exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm stronger than I look, big boy," Eddie winked as he threw him onto the bed. "Now watch as the Magnificent Munson makes his lovely assistants' pants disappear!"

Eddie unbuckled Steve’s pants before yanking them down and completely off, tossing them behind him.

"Voila!"

"You're crazy!" Steve giggled.

"Oh, baby, you have no idea," Eddie laughed maniacally.

He placed his knees on either side of Steve’s hips and leaned down to kiss him. He moved his lips down to his neck, his chest, and then down to his stomach. Eddie grinned mischievously.

"Whatever is that you're going to do, don't do it," Steve warned.

Eddie pressed his lips to Steve’s stomach and blew a raspberry near his bellybutton. Steve burst into laughter. Eddie sat up a little.

"I'm sorry, is this not how you blow someone?" Eddie asked innocently.

"No, Eddie!" Steve giggled.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asked and blew another raspberry on his stomach.

"Eddie!"

"I'm sorry, I think you're going to have to come up with a safe word," Eddie said and blew yet another raspberry.

"Anchor!" Steve laughed.

"That's a good safeword, baby," Eddie said, pressing a kiss to his stomach.

He started kissing the rest of the way down until he came to Steve’s boxers. He grinned and took the elastic part in between his teeth. Using his mouth, Eddie lifted up Steve’s hips and dragged his boxers down until they were off completely. Still in his mouth, he shook his head and then spat them on the floor. Steve shook with laughter.

"Are you putting on a show, or you going to fuck me?" Steve grinned.

"Can't I do both?" Eddie asked.

It finally happened, Eddie was now deep inside of Steve.

"Are you going to move?" Steve asked.

"Gentleman, make sure you keep your arms and legs wrapped around your metalhead at all times!" Eddie said as if he was a train conductor. "Most importantly, enjoy the ride. All aboard the Munson express!"

Eddie slowly started to thrust into Steve and grunted as he moved. Steve moaned, gripping Eddie's back tightly. It wasn't long before Eddie started to make train noises as he thrusted inside of him. Steve rolled his eyes back as he laughed, his body shaking around Eddie's dick.

"Eddie!" Steve giggled.

"You feeling a little unsafe, Stevie? Do you need to use the safeword?" Eddie asked.

Somehow, Steve arrived on time. Eddie had followed soon after, spilling into the condom. Steve was still laughing when Eddie left and came back to clean him up.

"I don't know how I managed to laugh and cum at the same time. That is the silliest sex that I ever had," Steve grinned. "I don't want to have sex with anyone else ever again."

"That was my plan all along, baby," Eddie said, snuggling into Steve’s side.

Steve finally managed to get some sleep that night with a smile on his face and the man of his dreams in his arms even with the fireworks going off outside. All was well.

[lux-scriptum]

Elliot's Vampire Au

If you guys remember Eternally, this is set in the same universe. I'm just enjoying the silly little world building, and the opportunity to add some angst to Elliot's life.

This was not how Elliot’s day was supposed to go. His outfit was ruined. There was only so much blood would come out of silk. He swiped at it with shaking hands anyway. It wasn’t like there was any washcloths in this bathroom. He had known the guy was, well, a guy, but the only other option was to use the regular towel for trying to scrub out the stains, and Elliot still had to get the blood off himself-

The thought had him looking up on instinct. His own wide-eyed stare looked back. A mess. He was a mess. Red, smeared across his face. Sprayed- no, saturated one of his favorite shirts. It flaked off his hands as he touched one cheek. He’d cried off half his mascara, and smeared the rest.

He flinched at the knock on the doorway. “You’re usually supposed to undress for a shower.”

Elliot forced himself to meet the vampire’s gaze in the mirror. “My shirt-” He began. The whine in his tone was audible even to him. He snapped his mouth shut when a frown crossed the vampire’s face. How far did he want to push the man? “Out,” he tried anyways, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t need an audience.”

The vampire raised his hands in defeat, even as he gave Elliot an indolent look up and down. “No need for any more hysterics, Christ.” He shut the bathroom door behind himself.

Elliot’s shoulders slumped. He turned on the shower. His fingers still trembled as he undid the buttons on his blouse. It had been such a pretty purple too. He almost dropped one of his rings down the drain trying to place them on the counter. Everything else was still in the living room. With- with the body.

The thought pulled him up short. He looked down. More blood on the top half, but plenty right there on his thigh. The bite that should be there was already long gone. Sure, shifters healed faster than humans, but the guy almost took a literal chunk out of Elliot’s leg. And yet, under the dried, flaking blood. Smooth, pale skin. Like it’d never happened.

He needed the blood gone.

By the time Elliot scrubbed himself raw, the vampire was knocking again. If Elliot had known he’d be so needy- but then again, if Elliot had known plenty of other things, he wouldn’t have gone home with him either. Elliot grabbed that singular towel with a grimace. He wrapped it around himself before he bothered to crack the bathroom door.

“Come on, sweetheart,” the guy complained. How had Elliot ever found him attractive? He was just another puffed up douche. Some self proclaimed alpha, or whatever. “I just gave you the gift of immortality.” Ugh and he was still going. “You could be a little grateful.”

Elliot had to bite back a retort about how shifters were already pretty damn close to immortal. He hitched the towel higher. Well. Being a little bratty had already worked once. He popped a lip out in his best pout. “I’m not wearing your clothes,” he sniffed as haughtily as possible. “And you ruined mine.”

“Well what do you want me to do about that, baby?”

Eugh. Elliot had to pull his next huff from the depths of his soul. “Go and get me something,” he demanded. He gave the “artfully” ripped jeans the vampire was wearing a scornful once over. There hadn’t been much time to explore the man’s closet, but the dumb band tee and scuffed up sneakers hadn’t really impressed him. No, it’d been the body under the tee that had lured Elliot home with him. Elliot dragged his attention back to the unremarkable blue eyes and curled his lip. “Not like those.”

“You’re kidding.” When Elliot shook his head, the vampire threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. Fine! If I go get you something, will you stop acting like such a diva?”

Elliot bit his lip. Nodded. He kept his wide-eyed stare until the guy had stomped out of the apartment. Only then did Elliot let his knees go weak. His nails dug into the doorway to keep him upright instead. A peek told him the poor dead sucker was still sprawled on the couch where they’d left him.

Honestly, the whole night was a blur. It was supposed to be a quick hookup, and instead-

Elliot tongued the unfamiliar fangs in his mouth. He was used to the heightened sense of smell, but everything was so loud now. The fact that the taste of blood lingered in a tempting way left Elliot off kilter. It scared him, a little, how satisfying it had been to sink those new fangs into the poor guy who was now dead on the couch. He’d never been so ravenous before. It still gnawed at him. Just a little. An ache in his stomach, an itch in his fangs, a pinch on his thigh where the vampire had bit him.

It had been such a good night too, before this mess. He thought he’d lucked out; before he’d turned Elliot he’d actually seemed interested in Elliot’s pleasure. That’d been the whole reason he’d been- well. Elliot knew better now. And he had no plans of being home when the guy came back.

He snatched up his lacy underthings. No blood. Thank God. He pulled them on, and went searching for his jeans. A few splatters, but that was doable. Elliot pulled them on hastily. Jammed his feet in his chunky sandals and pretended he didn’t shudder at the idea of having to put that blouse on. He ended up stealing a hoodie from the guy’s closet. His blouse fit in the big pocket on the front. Good. His rings went in his pocket, and his phone was safely clutched in his hand. He’d never been so relieved that he didn’t have a purse with him in his life. Unlife? Elliot had to press a hand to his chest to feel his heart. No, he was still alive. At least he had that. At least it wouldn’t matter as much if the sun came back up before he could get home.

Elliot eased out of the apartment. Well. The sun was definitely on it’s way. He glanced around. Maybe heading home would not be helpful. Sure he wouldn’t combust, but- well, he’d always burned easily. It might be worse now. He was dialing the phone number before he could think it through.

“Owen? I know it’s early, I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call.”

~

@incandescent-creativity @mecharose @cwritesfiction i chatted with y'all about this, but if anyone else wants to be on the tag list lmk!!!

[rpedia]

[Ask RPedia] Writing Panic Attacks?

@twodemigodtraveleroflorien​ asked: Any advice on how to RP a character having a panic attack

Sure! As usual, ‘show don’t tell’ is gonna be big here. By that, I mean describe what is going on through connected ideas, not straightforward ones. When someone is in love they smile, and gaze, and touch. When someone is angry they sneer. When someone is scared they sweat, and triple check nothing is behind them. Don’t ever just say ‘Mary was scared’ unless it’s a stylistic choice to give a certain feel to your writing. Pick it consciously as what your story needs, or not at all.

Beyond that, panic attacks can hit in a ton of different ways. We’ll get into this below, and describe not only panic attacks, but some methods on how to help them. If you’re sensitive to this material, please don’t walk in knowingly, fuck yourself up, and have a bad day. I love you kids too much for that. Also remember this is for roleplay, I will be discussing the awkward as fuck things, like “picking which symptoms match your character” and “using panic attacks in plot.” 

Writers, amirite? (Please only continue if you’re in the mental space for it! It can get graphic and triggering. Take breaks as needed.)

To reassure my readers, yes, I have had panic attacks an awful lot. So I can actually speak from experience for once. But only my experience, so give me some slack if yours hits you differently, or if I don’t nail it. Give other writers that slack too, and don’t think one size fits all will ever work here. Give them the benefit of the doubt, so long as they make a decent effort. No one needs their panic attacks nitpicked, it’s either from personal experience or to further the plot. Do either of those things really need someone telling them right at that moment they’re not doing it right? If they’re just making a mockery of it OOCly, go ahead and rip ‘em with facts. ICly, well, Jan. It’s supposed to be problematic, that’s a plot hook for character growth. If it bugs you, communicate that OOCly you’d like to move on.

So anyways, let’s just waltz right into the thick of it. According to the diagnostic criteria listed in the DSM-5, panic attacks are experienced as a sudden sense of fear and dread plus four or more of the following mental, emotional, and physical symptoms:

Heart palpitations or accelerated heart rate

Feelings of numbness or tingling sensations

Excessive sweating

Trembling or shaking

Shortness of breath or smothering sensations

Feeling of choking

Chest pain or discomfort

Nausea or abdominal pain

Feeling dizzy, unsteady, lightheaded, or faint

Chills or hot flashes

Derealization and/or depersonalization

Fear of losing control or going crazy

Fear of dying

So immediately we realize, not everyone’s panic attacks are going to be the same thing. Some people get their heart beating a mile a minute, and feel like they’re miles away, are scared they’ll die, and be afraid they’ll lose control. Some people will have aggressive chest pains, start sweating and shaking, then feel like they’re going to pass out, choke, and vomit at the same time. Can you see why those would present differently in a roleplay, or how they’d fit different character models better, or even the outcomes of these on different personalities? That’s important to the writer right there. You have to understand your character and how they would experience fear, and sensations that are unpleasant, and which ones they’re feeling.

The only thing that is solidly in every panic attack is that sudden feeling of dread or fear. People who have not had one can relate to it, honestly. Have you ever turned off the lights in your bathroom or some dark spooky hallway and suddenly felt like something was in there? Then you have to fucking run before the thing gets you, or turn on a light to check, and the hairs rise on your neck and your eyes open up wide enough to suck in every photon of light for miles because suddenly your brain wants the power to see in the dark? Yeah. That creeping feeling of being prey is the dread and fear. Yes, people may feel these differently. Fear is not exactly one size fits all. But this is a pretty good start to understanding the drop of an ‘oh fuck’ barreling down on you from behind.

Myths abound on panic attack causes, but the truth is simple. Sometimes, they happen because something triggered it, but a lot of the time there is no trigger. Your body just decides to fuck you over because that seems like a great idea right now. You can’t even really avoid them by sleeping. That’s right, you can get panic attacks while dead asleep. That’s so thoughtful of them, they don’t want you miss out, I say in the most sarcastic voice ever.

The good thing is, no, you can’t die from a panic attack or be ‘driven insane’,and no they aren’t just you overreacting to fear or pain. They aren’t even always part of a panic disorder (other disorders bring them to the party too). The good news is, although they suck rancid eggs, they can be managed. If you treat some of the underlying causes, you can help lessen them over time. 

What disorders are linked? Oh boy, that’s a hell of a list. Anxiety disorders are a big one, agoraphobia, OCD, depression, Bipolar disorder. They all like to invite panic attacks with them. Other fun party guests are eating disorders, personality disorders, and substance-related conditions. Heck, GERD, IBS, and sleeping disorders are also friends with panic attacks. So while writing your character, look at what might be the underlying cause of it. Whatever building blocks you pick end up visible in not only panic attacks you decided to throw in to make the scene worse, but a constant background noise to their lives.

That’s one of the important things you need to remember. If you choose to give your character a condition like the above, there’s a couple rules that make this go over a lot better with the community. Let’s look at them.

Do not only use it to get attention. It may be plot relevant, but if it comes up every single time the spotlight is off you, it gets old quick. This is a shitty medical thing, not your golden ticket to being fussed over.

Do not use the disorder as their only personality. You have a character who happens to have and live with the disorder, not a walking form of the disorder who happens to have some character stuck in there.

Do not use it to only have good things happen. Realistically, you may get a panic attack at the worst time ever and fuck everything up. Don’t make it a ‘get out of jail free’ card, balance it with bad timing and bad outcomes.

Do not play Sympathy Sue with it. We don’t want to have to coax, dote, and protect your character every step of the way in a story without them ever showing signs of doing anything but keeping the attention on them and their issues. In real life, real people have personalities beyond their issues, they have friends, they tend to learn how to manage things over time. So let your character grow, and show themselves too. In writing, we do this for fun and to escape bad things. We don’t want to shoulder something during playtime, we may encounter often in real life.

Do not go into this without research. Practice writing up little stories to describe the symptoms. Read everything you can. Look up webpages, blogs, and everything where people are offering the information on their struggles freely. 

Make sure everyone in the group is comfortable playing this out. It can trigger things when you go whole hog descriptive about every symptom they have until they suddenly start having one in real life because fuck, they’re right there again. Never surprise someone with a panic attack in character unless you know it’s okay, or are willing to just skim over it.

Understand the gist of why these exist? Good. Go with the spirit of them, not the letter of them. Basically respect, even though as writers we intentionally use them for plot and growth, we should not abuse that ability by lacking respect for the real people who have them. Be tactful, be polite, be respectful as the person behind the keyboard. Anything that isn’t tactful, polite, or respectful had better be in character, and had better relate to the plot and characterization pretty damn well. You should also make it very obvious that you disagree with the character in narration. If they say something crass or obtuse, point out that they said something crass and obtuse. 

“It’s not like it’s really that bad, you’re just scared right? Get over it, you whiner,” he said, sneering. His lack of empathy for the subject really showed his lack of experience with it.

Tada, by adding in one line, you’re a better writer in general, and have accurately explored characterization while pointing out you recognize he’s a total asshole. Doing things in a way that clearly shows you give a damn and understand what you’re choosing to let the character do is the key to not pissing someone else off.

Okay so back to the attacks! These symptoms are basically just names right now. You can say what’s happening straight out, and that’s cool, but... how do you make your reader empathize with them? You’re going to want to explore each of these feelings in writing, or at least the ones you know you’re going to use. This is homework! Explain each of these in detail in a way you can connect with them. Put yourself into your character’s position, and write from the heart.

Their heart racing, what do they feel when this happens? The skipping beats that feel awkward and clunky? The way you can feel it pounding along, a mile a minute, ready to burst out of your chest? Go running, when your heart rate gets up there, you’ll really fucking quickly pick up on how that part feels. The pounding, heaviness of a heart going so fast your shirt is trembling, and your hands can’t stay steady. Describe it, describe how that heartbeat going mad feels to you and how out of place it is.

Tingling and numbness? You might have had a limb go to sleep before, use that as a jumping off point. Except in a panic attack, it’s everywhere and the pins aren’t painful. They’re just a loss of feeling everywhere. Your hands tickle with them, your skin feels like it’s tightened up weird, and can’t feel like it used to even if you’re hypersensitive to touch. Sweating so much you soak the sheets? Use that experience, the dripping, the suddenness. How it contrasts with the temperature being comfortable. Sweating from anxiousness or nerves. Damp palms. I fucking hate flop sweats like that, because I end up with a disgusting feeling scalp, wet neck, and my body is just damp all over after I’ve been through an extreme.

Everyone’s probably trembled in their lives. A shiver through your limbs. What happens when you tremble? Is it harder to write, or grab onto things? Is your grip worse? Explore how trembling effects your environment as much as it effects you. It helps to understand that the tremble is sudden, violent. You cannot stop it, it’s beyond your control, and you struggle to keep yourself from showing it a lot if you’re that type of a person. Since it’s down to personality, someone might have a shaking quavering voice, or they might be hiding that shaking hand and stiffening up to hide it all from the others.

Choking, smothering, unable to breathe... well that sounds like running to me, but I’m out of shape as hella. Crying does it too though, unable to get past a throat filled with snot. The absolute lack of breath, it’s like you’re depressurized. Remember nothing, from the feeling of choking, to the stitch in your side, to feeling sick to your stomach, is exclusive to a panic attack. You’ll probably have encountered being dizzy or light headed in your life without ever seeing a panic attack. Chills and hot flashes too. They can be way more extreme, like sitting there shivering and teeth chattering despite being in a 85°F/29°C room. Just absolutely taken by how cold you are, and nothing can warm you because you’re already sweating. It looks a lot like a symptom of shock, which is why they throw those blankets over you after a severe accident of any kind, even if you’re not hurt.

While you’re looking at those, don’t just look at the symptom. Look at the character’s reaction to the symptoms. Does stomach pain make them cry? Does it make the shortness of breath worse? Do they have sweating, lightheadedness, hot flashes, and nausea and just wave it off as a thing that’s happening because they’re scared? Mix and match. Some characters handle things better than others. Some have different reactions. Find them, and pull them out and shove them in the light for other people to see.

The final symptoms are a bit more in-depth because we can’t find aspects of them to jump off of from real life. Derealization, depersonalization, a fear of losing control or not feeling ‘sane’, or a fear of dying? These we might not feel very often or at all if we’re neurotypical. So we’re going to rely on people who have experienced them to learn about what they’re like. That’s dangerous territory, be respectful when you explore it. Not sure where you’ll find details on these without stepping on toes? Hi! I’ve had all of them, so lemme get down to brass tacks and tell you what they may be like. Once again, one person’s experiences do not equal all people’s experiences, but as an intelligent person with critical thinking you knew that and were totally going to google Reddit threads and blogs about the subject if you intended to write them, right?

So, derealization and depersonalization are very interconnected, which is probably while they’re listed as a grouped symptom in the list. They are experiencing the feeling of becoming entirely unhinged from either reality, or yourself. It’s a wild sensation to be several feet outside of your body, watching as everything happens. It’s even more wild that it can vary, a few inches away, or even just ‘somewhere else’ while your body keeps going. You can lose your entire grip on a situation, your mind fully consumed with something else, to the point you don’t really feel like it’s you talking, or moving. 

Same thing when everything stops feeling real. Like you’re in a movie, or a dream, watching shit play out you have no control over. Yet, you function through it. On autopilot, saying the things you would say, doing the things you would or should do. Even though you’re feeling a bubble or padding between you and there. In my case, I’ve definitely felt like I was underwater, and should be unable to breathe, but I was breathing fine, looking through this glassy feeling at a body that was going through a panic attack, but it wasn’t really me. It was a bunch of chemical firing, everything happening felt rehearsed, fake, and far away. Like, it had been predetermined to happen, and I had no control over it. 

It’s varied between feeling like I, personally, am not the person doing shit. I look into a mirror, and some stranger is looking back at me, who has the wrong everything. Sometimes everything isn’t real, there’s no way everything can look like this can feel like this when the world is shutting down for me. I am empty, why is the world doing this, it cannot be real. Except it is. This is such a numbing, empty experience, that it leaves you really struggling to find something to anchor yourself to. Those are not my hands. My hands aren’t that size. This room is not my room, it looks wrong, the color is off in a way I can’t describe, the comfort isn’t for me. It’s really fucking mindboggling, and all this?

Is on top of other symptoms. At the same time. My dude lemme tell you, wearing another person’s skin and watching them unable to breath because they’re choking on air, while they suddenly go freezing cold, teeth chattering, is a TRIP! 

Fear of losing control or going crazy is fun too, in the way that I can being super sarcastic on one hand because it’s not fun at all; and also very very genuine because I have an analytical mind and it’s cool to see my own brain degrade in front of me. When in the throes of this, I definitely know I’m not insane, but what if I am? What if this is the moment I snap and lose it entirely? What if this is the terrifying reality now, that I’m never going to get any of these other symptoms under control, and instead I’m going to get worse and start chewing the walls and attacking people left and right? What if this is my breaking point? 

The terror just eats away at you, because no matter how much someone says that you’re gonna be fine, and that you’re not insane, they have no idea. They’re not a professional, and they don’t have some kind of little device that lets them see what’s going on in your head. When your thoughts get jumbled and frantic like that, it can super feel like you’re losing the plot entirely. You really do start to believe there’s no hope for you and they’re going drag you off and drug you up because everything that makes you you has spiderwebbed into this wild ass new person who has had their sanity ripped out of their hands. 

I blame Hollywood for a lot of this, because you see this kind of thing happen. Someone becomes too emotional, and wa-bam, they never come back from it. They got comatose, or hysterical and have to be dragged away. They never quite make it back to their former selves, and that! Is! terrifying! And just the kind of unrealistic thing a mind having met it’s limit would throw at you because it can no longer keep track of what is actually happening.

Fear of dying is the last one, and after the things above, is it really any surprise that you might feel like you were dying in the middle of all this? Now the last time I got this, I had managed to get a head injury and a seizure so maybe it was an ickle bitty bit of a realistic fear. (Also, I’m fine, but obviously some things have happened since I last wrote for you guys, be nice to me.) With all these feelings of rushing inevitability, fear of the end of yourself is RIGHT up there waving its hands and demanding to be seen. This is, I also got this from... slightly cutting my thumb while cooking.

It doesn’t have to make sense, I knew my thumb was not going to bleed out, but I was ready to face death because oh no, something terrible has happened. My brain saw one big drop of blood, and it was done. I was officially dying. I would lose the thumb, I would get gangrene, I would die in a corner somewhere. It became something that overwhelmed all my senses and I had to lay down for a while and let it pass. All I wanted was someone to be there for me while I was inevitably dying of a boo boo. That’s how extreme it can go from literally nothing, so it’s super hard to shake off if you pick it as one of your character’s responses!

Now if you had to take a break during this at any time, that’s perfectly normal. It may be a sign that you shouldn’t RP this situation though, because that’s gonna be even more intense. Plus, if it’s tied to your character, and you’re the type to be inside your characters POV for the smoothest writing process? You might feel like it’s happening to you. Method acting can bite you in the ass if this is something you can trigger by experiencing it. On the other hand, RPing your way through it can help compartmentalize it, and putting those horrible feelings into a new situation can help you recontextualize it from an outside perspective. Making it easier later to go through a panic attack because now you have another experience to draw from. There’s a reason Therapists like it when you roleplay.

Just remember, roleplaying is for story and fun. If you find yourself far too deep, aftercare may be needed. You don’t have to always ask someone else for that, you can just give yourself something relaxing after play. Hit up your favorite goofy TV show. Eat a treat you really love and let yourself be in the moment while you savor it. Take a nice warm bath if that’s the kind of thing that relaxes you. Sure, it’s roleplay, but it can have a real emotional effect on you, same as any other experience! So, if you need to, find someone you can talk it out with. If not friends, then a professional who can give you the tools to make the most of your new experience in helping yourself. Hell, if you simply got to the end of this and feel drained or something, go give yourself a treat and cool off a bit!

Anyways thank you for reading! Hope this helps in really expressing panic attacks a little more clearly in text, but always remember to CHECK IN on your partner. Make SURE they’re comfortable with the level of detail you want to get into! If not, go for a lighter hand! Write a vignette on the side, and upload it to your Tumblr as a fanfic of your RP if you wanna prove your skills without effecting other people! Tag your shit! Be aware of those around you, and really do make sure everyone’s comfortable when you’re exploring topics like these.

If you try your best to get it right and do the research, it’s obvious to others. You’ll be fine. Happy RPing!

[tonberry-yoda]

did i mention that hisoka is also bouncing around in my head?

Tastes Like Bubblegum - Hisoka Morow

word count - 396

~~another short one with some mistakes in there probably lmao~~

WARNINGS: hisoka... so only a bit suggestive, but nothing crazy. not 18+ or anything

He tasted like bubblegum.

Was it cliche? Yes.

But god, something about it was the best part about him.

You could never forget that taste, either. The way he would run over to you out of the blue and place his lips on yours, his tongue just barely sliding over your lower lip. His long nails would always tangle their way in your hair and he would always whisper something highly suggestive in your ear before vanishing.

You hated him for that.

But you loved him for that too.

You almost forgot about Hisoka. You both decided to get your Hunter's licenses and move on. You used yours for good while Hisoka did whatever he wanted with his. You took classes, met other Hunters and businesses that could help you grow, and had articles written about you and your work.

Sometimes, on late nights, you would chew on the end of your pen and remember the magician; that menace of a man. The way he charmed you at the Hunters exam, whispering in your ear about how powerful you were. How he wanted to rip your heart out.

You would've let him too, that's the funny part.

You leaned back in your chair and breathed in the cold air coming in through your window. You would take that Hunters exam all over again if it meant you could spend just a few more hours with him.

You knew he was dangerous. You could sense it, even when you hadn't developed your nen. But honestly, you didn't really care. You were intrigued by him. You wanted to see how dangerous he really could be.

Curiosity killed the cat.

You wouldnt mind what it would do to you.

"Hard at work, are we?"

You were startled to hear another voice in your empty apartment, but eased when you knew who it was.

"Hisoka," you giggled. "How did you get past the door man?" You turned to him, his heels clicking as he stepped closer to you.

"I have my ways."

"Oh, I'm sure you do."

Hisoka chuckled and tipped your chin to look up at him. "You've been thinking about me." He tilted his head and brought his face closer to yours, your lips almost brushing against one another's.

"Maybe." You teased, pulling him by the shirt, his lips falling onto yours.

Yeah.

He still tasted like bubblegum.

~~~~~

hxh masterlist --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

[themonstrousmenagerie]

✧.*✧.*✧.*✧The Sea Show part 2✧.*✧.*✧.*✧

warning: death, gore, dehumanization

The patron’s shouts were deafening even through the pool’s walls and layers of water. Kaiyo kept doing rounds underneath the Monster’s feet as they stood on a platform hanging just above the water’s surface. He couldn’t tell which voices were more common, to make him swim around or to hunt. He hated himself for hoping for the latter, the chasing included live fish that he could eat. The show host waited for a few minutes, trying to catch if either of the ideas was requested more, but it seemed like both were equally popular. 

“My dear patrons, looks like everyone wants a different thing, but fortunately I’ve already planned for an occurrence like that” They snapped their fingers, and one of the assistants, a painfully thin fox yokai, her tail wrapped in shining red ribbon and golden bells. The creature didn’t raise her head nor utter a word when she gave the Monster a small, metal box made out of wires shaped like branches and leaves. Kaiyo couldn’t see clearly what was inside, the box’s bottom was a solid piece of brass. But he suspected what it was.

“Well then, looks like the audience can’t decide, and who am I to deny our Patrons their rightful entertainment? Both it is then!” the hellish bell rang again, the mer stopped the mindless circling to get closer to the show's host. As he got closer, the box’s content became revealed; a pixie fairy. The small, humanoid creature form was thrashing around, desperately trying to get away from Monster’s hands. 

“As you all know, koi fish eat anything, from algae to insects” Now, that he was closer to the surface, the elf’s voice got louder, the way they touched his scales sending shivers down his spine. Just yesterday the same nails that now were scratching him gently almost ripped apart his tail veil when he didn’t make the jump they wanted high enough.

“But those mers are strictly carnivorous, feeding on the same fish that their tail originates from. This little friend got a bit nervous, today is his first performance before a large audience of course, and he didn’t eat too much in the past few days. So, let me show you how well he can jump to catch his dinner” With that, the Monster pulled the pixie out of the metal box, careful not to break her wings. The container banged on the walkway over the pool, sending a painful sound through the water. When their hand was free, they once again rang the bell. Two long rings, a pause, and another three short ones. ‘Dinner’ and ‘hunt’. The fairy squeaked when her leg was cut, two drops of her blood falling into the water, putting the mer in a hunting frenzy. The long shrunken stomach began hurting again, while his instincts sharpened, zeroing on the pathetic flying creature that was now vulnerable. And easy to catch.

When Kaiyo’s pupils blew wide, ready to jump, the Monster let go of the pixie, which in turn bolted upwards. The patrons blocked her way on the sides, a single skylight on the top of the circus tent being the only way out.

“Go on, it’s all yours” the Show Master whispered, the mer not waiting any second longer. With two powerful beats of the tail, he gained speed in the water and shot out of the water. The fairy didn’t stand a chance. The audience held their breath as the two giant hands caught her mid-air and both creatures bolted down towards the pool. Now out of the poll, they could clearly see his white tail dotted with red and black dots, a thin veil reaching from his shoulderblades to the fins, and that he was twice as long as a human. His body made an enormous splash, some droplets almost reaching the audience before they evaporated on the magical shield protecting the seats from the performers.

After a few seconds, Kaiyo surfaced in front of the Monster, his face dripping with water and blood, two sets of sharp teeth shining in a broad smile. His pupils were blown wide, consuming almost all of his visible eye. 

“Good boy” the Show Master petted his raven-black hair. They straightened their back, pacing the audience, and made a deep bow. A few seconds of silence, then a thunderous applause.

“Of course, all creatures in the Menagerie are well-trained and can do such tricks! I am more than glad to give you more! Please, tell me your desires! Or, would you rather see more of our monsters?”

Taglist: @whumpsday @firapolemos05 @sodascribbles @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @crypticidentity @mothmxwhump @enigmawriteswhump @bees-among-the-okami

[voxofthevoid]

JJK 213 💀

If 212 stabbed me in the heart, 213 has ripped out my guts and poured acid on them. Mother of fuck.

I say this with a measure of glee because I do love a narrative that emotionally eviscerates me.

Spoilers and thoughts under the cut

It’s long and rambling because I’m basically sorting my thoughts out.

The chapter felt pretty short this time, but there sure were some mindblowing developments: Confirmation that Sukuna can use Megumi’s cursed technique (and dial it up to eleven WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT MOTHRA-NUE); Megumi’s ideal vessel status (rejoice, sukufushi shippers, it’s now canon that Sukuna always wanted to be inside Megumi! Too soon? Sorry.); the Angel’s cursed technique in its full glory (I cannot wait to see that animated...eventually); and my boy Yuuji being made into a slightly mashed donut (I joke, but I’ve been nail-biting worried about this since I read the chapter and this will continue till we see confirmation of his survival).

The vessel business

Megumi cannot catch a fucking break, can he? I’m not convinced he’s truly gone, especially because Gege did leave that breadcrump about Megumi having the potential to suppress Sukuna. But that brings me to my major issue with this recent development: if Megumi can suppress Sukuna, it implies sorcerers who can eat his fingers and not only survive but also prevent him from incarnating exist--because what are the chances it’s just Megumi and he just happened to get embroiled in all this? And despite calling him a potential cage, Sukuna doesn’t seem surprised that this is a thing Megumi can do, the way he was with how thoroughly Yuuji caged him. In fact, he seems to have settled on the formula to get into Megumi right after realizing this. All that’s fine, but it raises the question of what, exactly, makes Yuuji special.

I don’t mean it in a “why is Yuuji the MC kinda way” because (a) I love that dude to death and am following the story mostly for him and (b) Yuuji’s emotional arcs have always been a lot more compelling than his powers (or lack thereof), and I think having Sukuna out of him, possibly permanently, is an excellent development as far as his character arc is concerned (more on that later). My issue here has more to do with Kenjaku and the implied alternations they made to Yuuji in the womb: I’d say it’s a fair assumption that Yuuji’s superhuman physical capabilities and unusually powerful ability to constrain Sukuna aren’t natural, and as much as I love the “they just wanted some dick jokes,” I’m pretty sure Kenjaku didn’t conceive and deliver a kid for shits and giggles. Granted, it would kinda suit their personality; however, plot-wise, it’d be a waste.

At the moment, it looks like, while the degree of Yuuji’s ability to suppress Sukuna is unusual/unnatural, other sorcerers are capable of hosting and even caging him. So what exactly is Yuuji’s purpose, at the narrative level and in terms of Kenjaku’s plans? Did they account for Sukuna potentially breaking free, and if they did, what was the point of making a custom vessel for the guy? And is being Sukuna’s vessel all there is to Yuuji (not as a person or character but from Kenjaku’s perspective)? I have a feeling that’s not the case, but I’d need to go reread the manga to try and see why I’m so sure Kenjaku’s interested in Yuuji beyond his potential to contain Sukuna. Either way, I’m curious how the narrative will handle it. Which brings us to--

Yuuji’s survival and future arc

Gege, please.

I am fairly sure protagonist plot armor will kick in and Yuuji will survive (and honestly, him dying at this point would feel pretty damn pointless--I’m all for major character death, but if you’re killing the main lead, make it worth it, ya know?), but fucking how? He’s naturally a lot sturdier than most people, but dude’s got a fist-sized hole in his stomach and got punched through, what, three buildings? He’s got to be on his last legs there. Yuuta isn’t anywhere in the vicinity either. Lowkey hoping for Mumjaku to pop out, but that’s mostly because I have been dying for some interactions between these two since the big reveal about Yuuji’s parentage.

Assuming he survives (he better, GEGE), I’m honestly pretty excited to see how his story will progress from here. Yuuji’s whole thing since the start has been to save as many people as he can and die a good death as a martyr, and with every new trauma the narrative has piled on him, that desire has only increased to the point that it’s now a fixation. The guy seems actively suicidal after Shibuya, and the only thing keeping him from killing himself is the fact that he can’t allow himself to die meaninglessly after all the death Sukuna caused and all the people Yuuji himself failed to save. If the plot had progressed in the direction it had been taking before Sukuna used that binding vow to fuck everything to hell, Yuuji would happily have let the Angel erase him and Sukuna. And he could have called it a good, noble death because he was dying to save Gojou and eliminate a good 75% of Sukuna’s power.

And now he doesn’t have that. His death would no longer serve any greater purpose (...assuming Sukuna doesn’t somehow hop back into him, but that’s starting to look unlikely). To make a difference and help people like he so desperately wants, Yuuji will have to live. I am dying to find out how he’s going to reconcile that with his current mindsent.

Assuming he survives.

Hana and the Angel

I’ve been seeing a lot of hate for Hana after this chapter came out, regarding her decision to rush to Megumi, but honestly, it’s perfectly coherent characterization. It’s certainly a foolish decision, but it’s a completely emotion-driven, considerably panicked one that is in line with everything we’ve seen of Hana so far. She is in no way any more well adjusted than any of the main cast. Her childhood was Trauma Central: Eldritch Horror Edition, and she fixated hard on the boy who saved her despite their paths crossing for a grand total of five seconds. Megumi clearly registered her, since that’s the only way Sukuna would know to use that memory to manipulate her, but he doesn’t even acknowledge her. And there’s no indication they’ve ever interacted since; in fact, I’m rather confused on how Hana even recognized Megumi. Or whether/how she kept track of him all these years, given there’s no indication she was a sorcerer before getting Kenjaku-ed into a coma (presumably) and then hosting the Angel. Yet, she’s convinced she’s in love with him and they’re fated. Hardly a healthy coping mechanism, but it is what it is.

If Hana had a random crush on Megumi and ignored the Angel to fall for Sukuna’s trick (which seems pretty transparent to us readers, but Hana really doesn’t know the actual Megumi enough to tell that he wouldn’t be caught dead doing that pose, sweet fuck, my eyes), it would be some shit writing, but Hana isn’t acting out of infatuation or puppy love but a nearly lifelong fixation.

And it’s probably going to get her killed. I don’t see Hana getting out of that on her own; she hasn’t noticed Stretchy Headman there, and the Angel’s warnings clearly aren’t reaching her. The only way I see this moving forward without them both dying is for the Angel to take over completely--and we know she’s opposed to that, but would she make an exception with death imminent? I hope so. Because losing these characters, especially the Angel, at this juncture would just be a waste.

Now excuse me while I go scream into the void for the next two weeks.

[total-killer-brainrot]

Hey There Stranger

You paused briefly to take another sip of wine, and nearly jumped out of your skin as the radio at your side crackled to life.

“You done already, sugar? I was just starting to enjoy myself…”

---

You use your old CB radio to help blow off some steam.

---

All my fics are also on AO3

Not Beta Read. Rating: Explicit. Length: 1,472. Ship: Rusty Nail x You. Fem!Reader. Tags: Sexism, Bad Work Environment, Voice Kink, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Begging, Tattoos

---

Today, like every other day spent in your gruelling, exhausting existence, was awful.

Running an auto shop solo, in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, as a young woman, was possibly the worst choice anyone could ever make. 

Your long days were spent either dying of boredom, baking in the hot sun, or getting cussed out by some uptight city fuck boy who refused to believe that you knew more about cars than him. So few of your customers were decent people. In the last week you could probably count two that didn’t make you want to rip your hair out. 

Right now you were suffering through yet another obnoxious douchebag screaming at you because he was so sure you were overcharging him. You just stood behind the counter and watched him tucker himself out with a blank stare on your face. Too exhausted to even bother blessing him with a reaction. The door dinged behind him as another customer entered. An older guy, trucker by the looks of it. He gave you a short nod then waited behind the asshat still ranting in your face. 

By the time he had reluctantly paid and left you wanted to break something. Instead you forced a smile and greeted your next customer. Expecting another jackass old guy telling you how to do the job you’d be doing since you were young.

“Some people…” he tutted. Tipping his hat lower so you could barely see his face. Just his stubbled chin and the cigarette held between his lips.

You blinked in surprise. Getting empathy from a trucker in these parts was rare indeed. 

“Right? Fuckin’ audacity man…” You shook your head gently as you relaxed. Something about this guy put you at ease. Perhaps it was his voice. So deep it rattled your bones and made your brain buzz pleasantly in your skull. You could listen to him talk all day. 

Unfortunately for you he wasn’t very talkative. Polite, well spoken, but didn’t say a whole lot. Still you were surprisingly entranced by this stranger. Something about him drew you in. You weren’t the most perceptive person but you could just tell there was something unique about this older guy. But to your disappointment, he left with another nod goodbye before you could figure him out. And you were left with the lingering smell of coffee and cigarettes and the image of his smirk under that dirty old hat.

During your long, lonely shift you did allow your mind to wander. It wasn’t often a guy walked in here and caught your eye. And you’d never see him again. So why not indulge in a little harmless fantasy to get you through your boring workday. Was it really unprofessional to get off at work if you had no customers and were your own boss? Perhaps yes. So it all had to be in your head unfortunately.

-

Once home you were exhausted. Emotionally and physically. And you were still pent up and imagining that one unusual customer in all manner of compromising positions during the rest of your work day. 

Your bed creaked as you flopped down heavily, half full glass of wine in your hand, the rest of the bottle in your other. Already a little tipsy from your first glass. And already well into your second. Fully preparing to spend the night enjoying yourself to wind down from another stressful day of work.

When the most delicious idea popped into your head.

In the corner of your bedroom sat an old CB radio. Dusty from years of being forgotten. Despite the machine’s age, you still knew it like the back of your hand. Years of talking to your pa while he was on the road. It took you a minute to set it up at the end of your bed. Heart skipping a beat excitedly as the familiar crackle of the radio coming to life hit your ears. 

You flicked it to an empty channel. As fun as the risk was, you didn’t want anyone to actually hear you. Just the thought that someone might stumble across this channel by chance was enough to make your thighs press together. Just tipsy enough to think this was a good idea.

It didn’t take you long to rid yourself of your remaining clothes. Splayed out across your sheets with the little handheld microphone pressed close to your lips. A delicate sigh escaped you as the tips of your fingers slid through your folds and the tension started to seep out of your body. You let your eyes flutter closed as you allowed your imagination to run wild. It was easy to conjure some make believe man on the other end of the radio. Listening and guiding you along as your fingers pressed down gently on your clit. There was no rush. You could take your time and enjoy the slow build of pleasure. Letting your moans fill the radio channel with no need to quiet yourself. 

You paused briefly to take another sip of wine, and nearly jumped out of your skin as the radio at your side crackled to life. 

“You done already, sugar? I was just starting to enjoy myself…”

You gaped at the little machine. Face turning hot. How long had this rando been listening? Had he heard everything? Was he jerking off right now? And… Why did that voice sound so familiar? You had to slog through your hazy thoughts for the owner of that perfect growl. Then it hit you. The older guy who had come into your work. The whole reason you were doing this to blow off some steam. You sat up slowly. Keeping your eyes on the radio like it would attack if you looked away.

“Can’t be getting all shy on me now… keep going.” 

His voice was firm. No room for argument. And that voice really did something for you. You could practically feel the way you dripped with arousal as his tone lowered in demand. 

With a nervous sigh you tilted your head back. Fingers finding their way back down to your core. For a brief moment you wondered if he could hear the slick noises it made, then you heard him hum happily and your suspicions were confirmed. You bit your lip hard as you slid two fingers inside your cunt easily. Too embarrassed to moan as openly as you had been moments ago.

“You know I wanna hear you, sugar.” He grunted. You let out a weak whimper that he cut off with another groan. He was definitely jerking off as well. The image of that alone made you weak. Those large, tattooed hands gripping his cock. Leant back in his beast of a truck. Perhaps a cigarette between his lips. His hat pulled low so only his salt and pepper stubble was visible. Your mind ran wild and you didn’t notice yourself start to get louder once again until he interrupted your thoughts with a devastatingly hot,

“Good girl.” 

Holy shit. You couldn’t remember a time where you had needed dick as badly as this. You pressed your thumb to your clit once again as your fingers curled inside you. Whining needily into the mic. Barely registering the pleased grumble you got in return.

“Fuck me…” You gasped out. Pleading for him without realising you had even opened your mouth. “Please.” 

He laughed. It was so deep and so damn condescending the humiliation nearly pushed you over the edge. Just barely able to keep your cool.

“Darlin’. I’m not even there.” 

You couldn’t stop the frustrated groan as it crawled up your throat. Turning your head towards the radio as you heard something slick from the other end. Drawn back to that image of him getting off to your moans. Your hips rocked upwards. Chasing the pleasure as it twisted your stomach. Loving that he was enjoying this just as much as you were. 

“Please…” You begged once again. You heard his breath hitch, then a loud rumble. He must have just started his truck. Your heart skipped a beat and you gasped excitedly. Eyes rolling back into your head as you felt your orgasm start to crest.

“Don’t you dare cum till I get there. You gotta wait for my cock, ok baby?”

You froze. Holding your breath as you fought off the pleasure. It was torture to pull your hands away but at this point you would do anything he said. You nodded. And it took you way too long to remember that he couldn’t see you. Yet.

“Yes.” You knew you already sounded like a mess. Breathless and needy. You quickly tacked on the end, in hopes of gaining his favour. “Sir…”

His low chuckle made you squeeze your thighs shut. So fucking desperate.

“Now, where you at, sugar?”

[aarcanechaoss]

Craze

Masterlist | Ivana’s Version

William and Patri thought through many things when they agreed to the Invasion Plan… too bad someone else knew too.

Warnings: swearing, blood, death, flirty/innuendo

Notes: not edited

Julius’ eyes widened as William’s form shifted into the Elven male calling himself Licht. Of all the things he’d seen this was not it. He knew the Elves lost, knew that terrible things happened… but he hadn’t realised William, his trusted friend, was a part of that plan.

Yet somehow he’d known William was hiding something.

“As the most powerful mage in this nation-” The Elf taunted. “You must bear its sins-”

His words were cut short, Magic vanishing as he looks on- horror mixing with anger crossing his face.

This Wizard King fell to his knees grasping at his throat. There was someone stood behind him, knife bloody and raised to hide her face.

“I have to thank you both.” She smiled, dropping her hand and the blade as she did. “You fell into my hands so beautifully… and I didn’t have to do a thing.”

Red cloak fluttered in the wind, eyes glowing golden as the sun rays hit her face. He knew her, William knew her… a knight from the Golden Dawn.

“You… what did you do?” William’s voice ripped from his throat- but he didn’t move. He could feel a tear slip down his cheek. She tilted her head to the side, almost coquettishly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” She growled, stepping over Julius’ gasping form. “Creepy old man.” She spat.

“That was my fight.” The Elf said.

“I know Patri.” She smiled again and this time he found himself rooted to the ground. Her eyes widened in glee as he froze… of all times to skip fight or flight.

“How do you know that name?” He snapped. William was afraid, this was his knight, someone he’d chosen to protect the kingdom… not that he was doing that at current either. But she looked… she looked insane.

“I know lots of thing.” She sang. “Plagued by nightmares for years by that fucking massacre didn’t help either.”

Patri’s breath hitched as he watched the maniacal stare snap back towards the choking Wizard King.

“Your little invasion was the perfect cover. I can kill the Wizard King and a few other people I don’t like and you all get the blame.” She giggled. It was like something out of a horror story. “Want to know a secret?”

Patri’s golden eyes stared at her, scanning her face.

“Of course you want to know… I joined the Golden Dawn because. of. you.” She said leaning in, her nose barely grazing his chin. “The two pretty boys that I could blame for everything.”

“Blame for what?”

“Murder.” She laughed. “I could give a shit less about the people in this Kingdom. William clearly doesn’t either.”

“He does.” Patri growled. She raised a brow.

“Oh? Really?” Her grin almost split her face in two. “Want to know another secret?”

“You’ll tell us anyway.” William replied- though they had not switched forms.

“Oh yes I will. You see I. Know. How. This. All. ENDS.” Her hand grasped his chin, nails digging into the flesh of his cheeks, making him look her in the eyes. “You won’t win your little invasion… in fact you won’t even be able to bring you people back.”

Patri growled as her hand moved smoothly down to his chest before dragging her nails down to his stomach. She watched her hand stop and then she smirked. That coquettish look making its way back to her face.

“You’ll have to do that yourself.” She laughed again, shoulders shaking as her head hit his shoulder.

He couldn’t move.

Why couldn’t he move?

“I’ll be nice boys… give you an option. Either go through all of this mess, meet the dastardly devil manipulating your pretty little mind and lose, taking Patri’s Magic with it… or you find yourself a curse breaker and fix it all yourself before the next battle begins… before you are too helpless to save William from almost death.” She grasped his face again and leant in. “It’s up to you… after all depending on your choice lies the fate of who is to blame for killing Julius too.” She snarled.

A beat.

Patri’s arms moved on their own, hands grasping her arms tightly as her expression shifted from craze to fear.

“What do you know about the future?” Patri bellows. “What do you understand or know of what is to come?”

For a moment he thought he’d gotten her, had pulled her from whatever this craze was… and then she screamed.

“Captain Yami please help! It’s Captain Vangeance, he’s the Elf!” She called, shaking and pulling in Patri’s hold. He pushed her away and she stumbled backwards. He could see the dark magic mage to the side, Katana unsheathed as he stepped towards them.

Patri ran. A million thoughts in his mind as he and William disappeared into the city below.

~~*~~*~~

“What happened?” Yami asked as he reached them. His eyes darting down towards Julius corpse.

“Come now Yami. Go make sure Zagred doesn’t get out of that fucking castle.”

“Your terrifying. You know that right?” Yami said, his hand coming to cover his face. His nose scrunched as the scent of iron permeates the air. “This plan seems so.. convoluted.”

“The best plans are the ones thought out. I’ll get Julius you deal with the Elves.”

“I have a higher rank than you brat.”

“I’m the same age as Captain Vangeance… brat is not quite the word I’d use right now… perhaps later.” She winked as she turned away from the Black Bulls Captain. “Keep them all alive Yami. We’ll need even the Elves for what comes next.”

Yami nods and watches as she steps off the edge and into the city below.

A well thought out plan indeed….

[ozziesjester]

💐💅

^ i believe you havnet done either of these yet, but if you have, do whichever other ones you want!

ooohh thank u for the ask!! i haven't talked about him yet so im doing this for elder mckinley ʕ ᵔᴥᵔ ʔ

💐 What is their favorite flower? Why is it their favorite? Is there anything about the flower they don't like? Do other people know it's their favorite? Do they often get bouquets of their flower, whether gifted or aquired themself? Do elements of their favorite flower reoccur in other favorites as well?

had to ask my partner for help with this one, but mckinley's favorite flowers have to be birds of paradise!

they symbolize freedom, joy, and paradise, and i think that fits him pretty well! he doesn't get flowers from others too often, and even if he did, i think he'd be hard-pressed to find a bouquet that includes these -- but i definitely think he'd grow them in a garden of his own! they're so vibrant and colorful, it's like a flower version of himself („• ᴗ •„)

💅 How does their nails look like? Are they long or short? Is there a different length for either fingernails or toenails? Are there sensory issues involved with taking care of their nails? Are they painted or not? Do they have acrylic or gel nails?

he strikes me as the type to get manicures pretty regularly! maybe if he wasn't forced into the closet... but as it is right now, he just keeps his nails short and tidy! he also obsessively trims his cuticles to keep them from turning into hang nails.

he'd be into painting them, too, if he didn't think he'd be relentlessly mocked for it... he'd love having his nails bright, pretty colors... RIP elder mckinley you would've loved painting your nails 💔 (he isn't dead i just miss him)