#if this isnt cleaned up in a weak though

[wilder7ess]

dallas winston relationship hcs

im just as excited as you guys are stawppp

warnings: allusions to sex (i think)

every relationship hc post starts like this but i honestly dont think he would be toxic at all he just hasnt been loved properly and he (this isnt a diss) doesnt know how it feels to he loved in a genuine way

anyway he still wont be boyfriend of the year award worthy lets make that clear

steals things for you all the time

your favorite animal plushie???? already in his hands

a cd of your favorite song??? in his jacket as we speak

if you are getting bullied by socs this dude is asking for their addresses, phone numbers, social security numbers literally anything!!

he will fight for you he will literally contact the mafia for you!! nobody messes with dallys girl

one of his weaknesses is you playing with his hair

"yeah.. man i dont even kn...ow why.... the so..... 😴😴😴"

he is literally out like a light the second your hands are in his hair

he will deny it sooo fast if the gang asks about it

really likes making out with you or anything... sexual...

dudes a freak what did you expect

on the topic of that if you dont want to get whiplash from how freaky he can get do NOTTTT contact him after 11pm

thats when his super freak mode is turned on

he likes giving you hickeys & just literally kissing you anywhere

not that big on pda imo best ur getting is an arm around your shoulder or waist

banned you from going to rumbles

yes you heard you cant even WATCH the rumbles from a distance 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️ dally will not let you

you can clean him up after though!!!

--------------------------------------------------------------

okay thats it for now my head hurts so bad i need to go to sleep right now

[pond-froggie]

Fiddlestan but they get together after they get Ford out of the portal

Fiddleford shows up to Ford's cabin and thinks Stan is Ford but eventually realizes he isnt. Stan explains what happened to Ford and Fiddleford agrees to help. He struggles with working to turn the portal back on knowing what could happen and he worries about what Ford's mental state could be in. Stan is worried about Ford's safety and how pissed he's going to be at him. 

They provide comfort to the other. 

Fiddleford gently nudges Stan towards taking care of himself when he's been working too long on the portal and forgot, expecting him to get angry like his twin did but he just sighs and says he's right. Stan finds Fiddleford hiding under his work table in the lab pulling at his hair, hyperventilating and Stan sits with him, holding his hands, talking him out of it, and helping him up. Stans sleeping habits and Fiddlefords nightmares are fixed with sharing a bed. Stans eating habits and Fiddlefords loneliness is fixed by cooking and sharing meals together. They just remain friends though. 

After three years, the portal is back up and running. When they turn it on, Ford literally crawls out of it bloody and weak. The portal shuts off and Stan and Fiddleford run to help Ford. They cleaned him up and Stan helped him eat while Fiddleford cleaned his wounds and patched him up. Ford rested for a few days and the two never left his side. When he was awake and coherent he would rant about how stupid it was to open the portal. Stan would get quiet, unable to respond thinking that he messed up another thing. Fiddleford stayed out of it the first few times thinking that it was an argument between the twins but when he saw how upset Stan was getting he snapped back at Ford and told him how much work they put into fixing the portal and they didn't even know if he was alive but they weren't going to just leave him behind no matter how much he thinks he deserved it. 

Ford no longer argued with Stan and would randomly open up about his time in the portal. He apologized over and over to fiddleford even though he forgave him the first time. Ford was able to get a transdimentional exorcism during his time in the portal so Bill was no longer a threat. They found the rift and secured it. 

As Ford was getting closer to making a full recovery Stan felt like Fiddleford was pulling away from him. When Fords room got set up and they went back to sleeping in beds, Fiddleford slept in his own bed rather than Stans for the first time in almost three years. When Stan asked him about it he just said something about Ford making assumptions. When Stan woke up the next morning from a restless sleep, he went to the kitchen to find Fiddleford almost done with his coffee. Stan asked what they’re making for breakfast and Fiddleford said he already ate. Stan made breakfast and ate with Ford. It was like that for a week. 

One day Ford said he was going to go walking around the forest and the two offered to go with but he said he was going by himself and that he’s grateful for their help but he feels cooped up and just needs some alone time. So it’s just Stan and Fiddleford. 

Stan is in the living room on the couch watching tv while Fiddleford is in his room. Stan could hear him moving some stuff around and after a while he got curious. He went to go check on him and saw him putting his things in boxes. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Oh! Stanley, you scared me. I’m uh… well…” Fiddleford rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I figured since Stanford is outta the portal then I could git outta y’all’s hair. I mean- I moved here in the first place to help him build it and I moved back to help ya fix it and well… there’s nothing yall need me for anymore so…” Fiddleford clasped his hands in front of him and rocked back and forth on his feet. 

Stanley got scared. He was a flirt sure, but he was never one to initiate commitment. So was this it? Was he just going to watch him leave just because he couldn’t say a few words? 

���No.” 

“Excuse m-“ 

“No Fidds, you’re not leaving. I still need you here. I don’t need you to build some- dimensional wormhole or whatever. But if you really want to move-“ Stan picked up one of the boxes and walked out of the room with Fiddleford chasing after him. 

“Wait, Stanley! No! I wa-“ Stan took the box into his own room and set it down. He grabbed Fiddleford by the wrist and pulled him into his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist. “-then you can stay here. Whatever Ford assumes would be right.” 

“You’re not even going to ask me?” Fiddleford smiled up at him with flushed cheeks. 

And just like that all Stan’s bravado was gone. He groaned and hid his face in Fiddlefords neck, feeling intoxicated by his smell of oranges. 

“Aww c’mon Stanley ya were doin so well. Where’d it all go?” He just whined, making Fiddleford giggle. He reached a hand up and scratched at the base of Stan’s skull. “Fine, fine. You’ve already done so much. Stanley, will ya be my boyfriend?” 

“Yeah” Fiddleford pushed Stan’s head back so they could kiss. 

The next morning Ford is sitting at the kitchen table journaling about his findings the day before when Stan and Fiddleford both come out of Stan’s room. Ford sees them and flips to a different page that already has plenty of writing on it and starts writing ferociously. “Are you journaling about us?!” Stan asks while Fiddleford just laughs.

[lexithwrites]

some gang rivals to lovers bartylus headcanons because im hyperfixating on barty rn and need to let this out:

some nsfw under the cut, they'll be in italics (everything is SSC)

the crouch family are quite new money because barty crouch sr brought back their original family business after his 'passive' father stopped it

barty is still getting used to being the son of a gang leader and having this insane respoinsibility but he lowkey loves it

he can drive nice bikes, go to clubs and bars and spend his money on drinking and weed as much as he wants

he stays away from harder drugs as his dad 'tests the product' so to speak

the crouch's product is drugs mainly so barty is usually always on jobs for his dad because the old man is rarely sober enough to do it

he has a switch blade on him at all times tucked into his shoe

the only reason he hasn't left the business is because of his mother and younger sister, they're his world

angelica crouch is five years younger than barty and starting to go out partying as well and he lowkey hates it and follows her to make sure shes safe, they get into constant arguments over this but she knows her brother is protecting her at all times

his mother is quite weak as she was born with muscular dystrophy and even though she was a sahm barty raised his sister just as much as she did

she also had barty young, 19, so they grew up together

barty's family has a lot of 'agreements' with other gangs and companies that shuttle their product discreetly but one family they don't talk to or have deals with is the black family

the crouch and black feud has been an ongoing thing for generations — pollux black and barty's grandfather almost killed each other before making a peace agreement to just stay away from one another

regulus black, the youngest member of his family, has always been shielded as his older brother and older cousins are the more aggressive ones in the family that help their parents

he tends to just spend their money and party instead of being apart of the violence or meet ups, but sometimes sirius takes him along to get him used to it

one of these meet ups ends with barty helping them as he was walking by when the hand over (the black family usually smuggle weapons as well as drugs) went wrong and the buyers tried it on with reg, barty shot them without thinking

regulus thinks he's a bit of a prick but he did save his life so he thanks him and sirius explains that as good as it was that he was there, he cannot talk to him as it goes against their agreement in the family

but then barty starts showing up where regulus is (his college, parties, pubs, his morning run etc) and even though they bicker as barty is a flirt and regulus 'isnt interested' things start to take a turn

one night regulus goes clubbing without his friends or sirius and tries to find barty himself at one of his father's clubs and some creepy guys start being weird around him and he's trying to leave but they follow him and then who tf appears from the shadows? barty

his knuckles are bloody and bruised by the time he's done and regulus insists he come back to his to try and clean him up, barty is a good fighter but those guys were twice his weight so he got hit kinda bad, and barty is reluctant but agrees

reg's bodyguards arent snitches but you know they're giving each other 'oop' looks when they see the crouch heir wandering into the apartment

reg cleans barty up and tells him to shower and then he sees how many fucking tattoos this guy has and maybe reg is turned on, maybe...

and he's trying so hard not to flirt with him or touch him but its REALLY hard okay barty is tall and hot and he's also protective as shit?

but then barty is sat on the kitchen counter in just his boxers and some short ass shorts that he borrowed from regulus and regulus is standing between his legs because they're bickering and god reg wants to touch his thighs because they're RIGHT THERE and barty knows he's staring so he just kisses him

reg instinctively slaps him and barty's like 'do it again'

they fuck like three times that night and god is it good

barty seems dominant and reg isnt into that but turns out barty is submissive but he has issues with bottoming from past relationships

so reg blows him and hes whimpering and choking himself and biting his bruised fucking knuckles to stop moaning so loud but reg is so good it hurts

and then reg rides him into the bed and chokes him and slaps him and barty is the happiest guy on the planet

plus hes really good at eating pussy so regulus gets him to do that a couple times

regulus has only been with two people before this because he doesn't wanna drag innocent people into his families life but barty is more violent than him so he doesnt care,,,,plus he makes him cum SO much its insane and he's never finished with anyone else before

his thighs are shaking every time they switch positions and the FLITH barty whispers into his ear when they fuck because he can be a little dominant sometimes when he's riled up enough and reg is just grinning the entire time because this boy might be his new favourite toy to play with

they smoke on the balcony together after one of the rounds and talk about how much they hate their families but they're staying for a few chosen people and it sucks but its how they were raised

the morning after barty has to leave but reg is like look i know we shouldnt but i wanna do that again and barty is like literally text me anytime of day and i'll be on my knees for you and reg is like bet

so they start up a lil fwb behind their families backs and they're sneaky about it but sirius and angelica get too close to catching them

this is basically all i've got so far but come on,,,,you see the vision

[reco-obsessed]

thinking about alice's and reko's deaths as metaphors for their emotions for each other over the years.... when alice is offered to have his memories wiped by safalin, he takes the offer, because reko takes so much of his life that he can remember that her death makes his entire being hurt. hes practically structured his identity around her- in trying to be a good big brother, one he felt she deserved. hes been willing to put himself aside for her own goals and desires, always accepted being sidelined to try and support her. so to lose her is to lose so much of himself- leave him a huge, gaping hole that cant possibly be recovered from even as he just barely clings onto whatever life he has left.

reko doesnt see the amount of grief coming after alice goes to prison, or when he dies. its a betrayal of herself, to feel so much for the person she resented and tried to ignore this whole time. the wound isnt that big, but then why does the blood keep coming, and why cant she stop it? why is she still crying, even though she refuses to sob? it runs so deep her hearts probably torn clean in half, but youd never see that from the outside. or at least she'll try her best to keep that in- her lack of last words wont make up for the pool of blood on the floor. this one, "small" thing breaks her as she knows it. should she live, and safalin offer to remove her memories instead, she rejects it. she spent almost her whole life trying to push alice's presence out of her mind, that weakness of having someone who mattered so much to her, the person who cared most for her, who she cared for most for, who she resented for it- for wanting her to be successful in a way she hated, but she'd do it, even if she cant stomach to look at him anymore. and, maybe, in some way, she got what she wanted. alice went to prison, removing him from her life almost absolutely, and for that small of time when they were reunited in the death game, they barely acknowledged each other directly- rekos last words she can probably remember to him were something along the lines of 'pretend you dont know me. we're strangers at this point, and i dont want people thinking we have any connection'. between her explicit rejection and the fake reko receiving the bongos, theres the chance she might not even realize alice wants otherwise. but somehow, even though she brought this upon herself, it hurts so so much more than she was expecting it to.

and she cant help but feel like its her fault that things went the way they did. that maybe if shed been a better sister, alice wouldnt have ever killed someone, or had died here, or maybe there wouldve at least been something to remember besides the hurt of him being gone. but reko also knows that she had her second chance- and she cant imagine doing anything different with what she knew. she protected herself, but at what cost? she could try to fight back now, if she really tried, but maybe deep down, she doesnt feel she deserves to, when she was the cause. it happens quicker than she imagined, and all she knows how to do at this point is lie down and take it. its just like the first time alice left, in a way. she was always about movement and action- his leaving was the only thing that could give her pause. even though she grew as a person when he was gone, she really did lose a part of herself, and it nearly killed her the first time, let alone the second.

[ornii]

Oh sorry! I mean Yelena from the MCU! :))

Mystery Woman.

A Platonic relationship with Yelena sounds interesting! Plus I’ve been getting back into the MCU.

Many would ask how you ended up dealing with A Russian Assassin. To be fair weird things happen in New York every week so stumbling upon an Assassin isnt a major thing. But you do remember the night, it was cold due to the snow and importantly you just pulled off. Double shift working at a local law firm. Superhero based claims are something that you had to file and that coupled with the constant pressure lead to a very unhappy shift for you.

Finishing up around three you stopped out to the cold and grime of New York lit up by the lights of the city. You wanted to head straight to your apartment, trudging though the snow you cursed to yourself.

“God damn Spider-Man… Daredevil all this shit.” You huffed, who new superhero’s made your life actually harder. You reach the apartment complex and past an alley you hear a thud, loud. Jerking your head you see trash bags lying next to a dumpster, which wasn’t surprising. But what was, was the strand of blonde hair in the dumpster. Curiosity admittedly got the best of you and you creep closer to see what it could be. You prayed it was something that could be easily explained but, it wasn’t.

A woman lied on the dumpster, a bad stab wound in her side, unconscious and losing blood. The sight of a body made you a bit dizzy, and you turned around to leave, “Not your problem.” You thought, but guilt crept up your spine as you heard the weak labored breath of the woman. She was going to die if you didn’t help. “..Fuck.” You whispered and turned around to yank her from the dumpster and throw her into your back, and taking her into the apartment.

Carrying a body was an issue, a bleeding unconscious one was a serious issue. But taking the back door and everyone being asleep made it easy. Slowly pushing the door to your apartment open with your foot you carried the woman to your 6 foot kitchen table, pushing the old pizza boxes and cups on the ground your lied her down and looked over her. Maybe early 30’s, late twenties, you couldn’t fully tell. You saw the growing blood clot on her side and took action and did some, less than chivalrous things. Gently reaching for her jacket you unzipped it and saw the wound. You went to the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit and performed based treatment, granted you knew much more than most.

Cleaning and Treating the wound, gauze and patching up her wound was next, thankfully to little issue. You felt her forehead.

“Fever.. odd. You weren’t out in the cold long.. unless..” you pushed your thoughts down and picked up the woman and walked to your living room, gently laying her on your couch and tossing a blanket over her, you sat in the chair to watch her. “Alright, when you wake up.. I have a lot of questions.”

You head was back, body limp as you slept in less than 20 minutes, thankfully it was the weekend. Eventually your eyes opened as you heard a shift, looking back forward you saw the couch empty. You attempted to stand up by an arm wrapped around your neck and a knife was mere inches from your face, you felt the blade lower to your throat.

“Tell me who you are, now.” The woman’s voice was Russian. Heavy accent to boot, you slowly raised your hands up to surrender. “I’m not here to hurt you…” you spoke softly to keep her from gutting you.

“I was on my way from work and I found.. you in a dumpster.” You took a deep breath and continued, “you were gonna die so I, took you here.”

The woman didn’t say anything, and you thought this is how you were going to die, until you felt her grip loosen and the knife away from your neck. The woman stepped in front of you, and tilted her head slightly.

“You don’t look like Anyone trying to kill me.” She shrugged.

“Uh.. yeah? I don’t, I don’t kill people.. uh. You’re welcome?” You were very confused, about what was going on. Moments ago she was going to slit your throat and now she’s just, searching your cabinet. “Uh.. what are you doing?” You asked standing up.

“Breakfast.” She responds, looking for cereal.

“Do you need help taking my things?” You approached, watching the random Russian woman look. “No cereal? How do you americas do this..” she muttered.

“We cook actual breakfast, Eggs, sausage, toast? Sometimes waffles.”

“I could eat that.” She said, “Do you know to cook?” You decided to open that Pandora’s box, which her reply worried you.

“How hard can it be?” She said, and you took that personally, you sighed and walked past her to your fridge. “I’ll make breakfast.” You said pretty firmly.

“I don’t need you to—“

“I’m making it, sit down.” You didn’t sound angry or even trying to, just stern. The woman saw how firm you are in it, and shrugged. She sat down as she watched you go to work. Thick slices of bacon on a hot pan, adding eggs to it and stirred for maximum volume, whisking away you decided to prob her mind.

“So, you have a name or are you gonna stay the mysterious girl who tried to kill me after I saved her.” You asked, smirking as you kept the bacon to a crisp. The woman thought for a moment, and answered.

“Yelena.”

“Hm. Not American.. definitely Russian. I doubt you’re an exchange student, so I’m gonna assume you’re here for something else.”

“You could say that, also Add Hot sauce.”

“Ew, no.” You responded.

“It’s not “Ew” to me, and I’m your guest.”

“Guest?” You said, which you realized you did drag her to your apartment. “Fine I’ll add hot sauce for you.” You decided to pour some to mix with the eggs and slightly mix the grease with the hot sauce to a blend that lathers the bacon. After a good roses you placed some on two plates and you both enjoyed the silence.

“Question.” She asked, tasting the flavor and perfect ratio of salt, pepper and hot sauce, with a slight tinge of basil. “Do you pick random woman off the street?”

That actually made you laugh, you didn’t respond and just smiled. Yelena probably expected you to be defensive or angry. Instead you responded.

“Guilt I guess.. if I left you there you probably would have died. I can’t have that in my mind, if I can help someone, I will.” Your response wasn’t something she expected, you looked up from your food to see her staring at you.

“What your eyes don’t work now?” You said jokingly, snapping her out of it.

“No, but I think I’ve, overstayed my welcome is, what you Americans call it.”

“I doubt you’d get far.” You replied, Yelena frowns at this. “And what makes you think that?”

“I mean, that stab was pretty bad, it’s good you didn’t get an infection. Plus I’ll have to stitch you up when I get the chance, plus you can stay here. I don’t think you have the woman to get or rent anyway.” You shrugged. “Plus is Christmas and I’m feeling generous.”

Yelena was confused on why you were being so nice about this.

“Why are you being so nice? I just tried to kill you five minutes ago.”

“You just remind me of my sister, annoying and kind of a shithead but, she has a good heart you know? I mean siblings, right?” You gave a chuckle, for a moment you saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, but Yelena hid it so well. She only had one response to all of it;

“Yeah to siblings.”

Sorry if it’s a bit short, but I’d like to continue it if people want!

[lostiolite]

OVERHAUL X READER

Not proofread

You had always been a giggly person. You laughed alot too. That was one of the first things he noticed about you. The weird faces you made trying to contain your laughter, and the angelic sound that followed because you were never able to hold it on for long.

He absolutely adored it, even he didn't make that known, even if he probably didn't even realize it himself.

He was no jester, he was a charming liar at best. He knows how to apeal to others to get them on his side, but even he never really dabbled in humor.

You were one of his subordinates, his favorite actually. You were too scared of him to notice his favoritism towards you. You did what was asked of you and left immediately, not wanting to stay in the scary mans presence any longer. Its times like that when he wishes he had been a little nicer. Because of this, the two of you were rarely in each others presence.

You made friends with other members of the Hassaikai. Most notably rappa, and older recruit haruko, you bonded over your lack of fondness for overhaul. Another one was setsuno, he was pretty cool, though was very fond of overhaul.

Haruko and setsuno were the ones you engaged in stupid humor with.

And here you were, laughing at one thing then, setsuno pointing out another funny thing, and thus a chain reaction of everything being funny would erupt. Your stomach hurt from all the laughter, holding it on the ground as you wheeze. You cant even remember what it was that was so funny in the first place. You try to get up and broom as that was the task at hand, but your swipes were weak and shakey because of your laughter. You try to tell him to stop and shut up so you can clean with an unserious and laughterous voice. But it seems he can't even stop himself. You try to catch your breath as you back up, distancing yourself in hope that you can focus. Your laughter comes to a halt when you bump into something- someone- Someone tall, you freeze for a second hoping, and praying to every god that it wasn't him. You turn around swiftly and your smile falters, very noticeably at that. Your tone monotone as you bow and apologize (and beg to the gods that he doesn't overhaul you). Your apology alerts setsuno and he comes running on his knees apologizing right next to you.

His eyes narrow and just walks away, giving off an annoyed expression. Hes annoyed, but for a different reason. That fact that seeing him ruined your day is something he doesn't like.

How he wishes he would engage in your stupid banter, somthing he would call anyone else stupid for, is something he so desperately wants to do with you, but unfortunately that just isnt like him. Hes come to terms with the fact that he wont amplify your laughter, but he hates stopping it.

[9cl]

I do nothing all day and its terrifying because everyone else is just living their lives and im doing absolutely nothing of value like im not learning anything im not becoming skilled im not cleaning my house im not helping with anything. im just doing nothing. things arent good for me and im doing nothing about it. i let other people resolve it. i need to be productive but everything that isnt baseline necessary to be alive costs so much energy and i have none to give im just eternally burned out because i never do anything that isnt unskilled or just immediately easy for me. i wish that i didn't have the preconceived notion that i am not smart or that i am weak and helpless, but i dont know what else to think because i tend to avoid doing things if im not like naturally good at them immediately or if they dont give me an immediate reward. which is why i could never get into dark souls and why i hate exercising. i hate having absolutely 0 willpower. effort is not something that i am familiar with. the only effort i give is baseline and only barely necessary to function as a human. the effort to walk, eat, breathe, shit and sleep. there is nothing inside me otherwise, and i dont want to stay this way, but doing anything else really bothers me and exhausts me mentally. i want it to stop. i want to be functional so badly because i am afraid that if i dont try at least a little bit then things will go very awry for me as an independent adult. i wish that the idea of "hard" seemed attainable. things that are hard for me are just hard which means they're unattainable and far from my grasp, and there's no other way around it. like i cannot conceptualize effort and practice and eventual mastery of a subject, i always desire to be great at something immediately because sucking at it feels disgusting and i hate it. i hate having to put in 6000 times the effort into something and it not being even remotely rewarding, at first, even if later on it's much easier. i do much better with learning instruments because whether it's playing the piano or the guitar, hearing the music ring out properly like it should gives me a lot of euphoria. meanwhile when i do anything else it's just plain hard and i drop shit all the time and i'm clumsy and i fuck things up and it's just embarrassing and depressing. it's not like that with playing an instrument, and even then it's only easy at first... because the actual mastery of playing that particular musical instrument to a level in which i can say i am great at it is something else entirely different though, i'm only an amateur at everything i've ever picked done in my life. i've only ever been amateurish at it. i'm not good at any of that stuff. like my mind tells me and drills into me that i can't suck at something. my risk/reward system is so fucked, it's nonexistent, i get no reward unless it's immediate. i get nothing from practicing, it's just tedious and mindless and feels awful and only serves to remind me just how bad i am at that particular thing. my mindset is bad, the way i approach practice is bad. i need to fix it, but fixing it is hard, and i dont like hard things, so there's the loop in action. i don't know, i need to sort out that specific issue, because it feels like the achilles' tendon i've been fucking dealing with for so long.

[xnchxntmxnt]

hi so. mc having a drinking competition w the brothers, but they chose to drink demonous... mc wins. 😼

Characters: general om characters, brothers, angels, etc

Warnings: alcohol mentions, ltos of it. all very light hearted though

Notes: mammon is so funny twirling my hair n shit

gn reader

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Alright

I have no idea how this comes about

someone probably wanted to start playing some game and mammon turned it into a drinking game

But youre all having fun!! So its all good

And then someone suggests it turn into a drinking competition..

So, you, the seven boys, simeon, luke and solomon sat around in the HoL playing an ever-lovely drinking competition that mammon is determined to win

(fyi, luke has juice and simeon is staying sober. Theyre just there to hang out)

Mammon is determined to win but solomon is here to help you out

He starts pouring drinks

Lucifer has decided he’s not going to participate

Levi’s not a fan of alcohol in general so he doesn’t either 

Belphie ends up taping out first because he gets more tired when he’s tipsy

Beel gets distracted and ends up eating and chatting with an asleep belphie, so he’s out

Asmo next. Low tolerance 

They take away satan’s demonus after a while because he’s starting to get irritated a little too easily and no one wants to deal with an angry satan

So then its just you and mammon. (solomon isnt playing because he’s bartending lol)

He’s wondering how you’ve kept up so long because he’s 90% sure a regular human would have gotten alcohol poisoning from that much demonus that quickly, but he’s a little too drunk to say anything about it

He taps out begrudgingly, you’re named the victor (but you really don’t win anything besides what you think is a headache tomorrow)

After a while the night winds down and everyone goes home

Mammon is suspicious when solomon pulls you aside and mumbles something to you, but he’s ready to go to bed so says nothing

The following morning, the truth comes out

“I don’t understand how ya won! No human could ever drink that much Demonus!”

“Mammon, stop yelling.”

Everyone sat around the breakfast table, most hungover, save for you and Lucifer (who knew how to avoid it by drinking less). Mammon, however, still had all the energy in the world and just whined all morning because of his splitting headache. 

“I don't get it though!” he complained again. “Humans are super weak to that stuff. How did ya out drink ME?”

“(Y/N)’s always been special, let’s just move on,” Satan said, face down on the table with his hands over his ears. “Everyone shut up and eat in peace.”

You smiled to yourself, deciding it may be time to come clean with how you won. Much quieter than Mammon was speaking (to not irritate Satan further), you explained. “I had a bit of help…”

“You what?” Mammon asked. “What help?”

“Solomon,” you said, holding back laughter. “He gave me grape juice with luster dust. It wasn’t half bad, actually.”

He glared daggers. There was no way he wasn’t angry, but you were pretty sure he didn’t have the energy to care that much about it. The irritated glimmer in his eye made you smirk, though.

“I’m going to have words with that stupid wizard man.”

Belphegor, quiet until now, scoffed. “I’d like to see you try.”

The rest of the morning went similarly to that—Mammon complaining about how you cheated, it wasn’t fair, his head hurt, etc. Anything you’d let him grumble about, he would. He only shut up when you promised to buy him a few things from his favorite store the next time you went out, which seemed to get his spirits up. 

(He will pick the most expensive items, be warned.)

taglist

@grays321 @kodzukoi @kage7ama @poeberlyavenue

[leclercinvegas]

hey could I request danny ric + 10 and 11, just very fluffy and comforting :)

YOU FEEL LIKE HOME

okay i have a feeling this one isnt going to be too good but im gonna try. also i decided that daniel has a spot on the grid in this one :)

10. "are you okay?" 11. "i've got you"(from my prompt list)

You had been curled up all weekend in yours and Daniel's shared bed waiting for him to come home from his race. It was a long weekend with just yourself and your dogs. you just felt sad and unmotivated to do anything all weekend without him. He was your motivation, you were always happier when he was around. Smiling, laughing, and just being in each other's presence made you feel happier and whole as a person.

It was early Monday morning after the race and you were just sitting in your bed waiting for him to come home. You didn't sleep, you couldn't sleep. There was something different about him not being there. But you hear the jingle of his keys unlocking the door to the house. He tried to be quiet walking through saying hello to the dogs. When he finally got to your room he asked, "Are you okay love? Why are you awake?"

You didn't know what to tell him. You just were glad that he was home. "I couldn't sleep without you tonight. It just didn't feel right."

"Give me one second love to get cleaned up and situated than I will come over and lay with you." He told you in a soft and sincere tone. You gave him a weak smile as he walked into the bathroom.

He came out of the bathroom changed into shorts and a t-shirt carrying the hoodie he was wearing when he came in. he brought it over to you for you to put on as he knew how much you loved wearing his clothes. But since he was so much taller than you, you were practically swimming in his clothes. It made you feel safe and comfortable though. Daniel had squeezed himself between you and your dogs as they hogged his side of the bed while he's gone most of the time. "I missed this. I always miss this every time I have to go." He whispered as he started to get comfortable next to you.

"Its always hard when you're not here. You make me feel safe, you're my home dan." you told him. he wrapped his arms around you and you immediately felt tired and comfortable. It was like you were letting your guard down and letting the tiredness get to you.

"You can sleep my love. I've got you. You're safe." he whispered as you drifted off.

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tbh not as bad as thought it would be. it isn't super fluffy though I tried tho. i've realized that all of my writings are pretty short and idk how to feel about it

[xyfanficarchive]

labor of love

norman bates (psycho 1960) taxidermies you (romantic) (gender neutral)

or, the strange mentally ill erotic fantasy of someone cutting me open and just getting all up in my guts (Nicely,) has surfaced from the old deep deep deep dark days of my life and now has a place ig?

cw death and detailed gore; cw fucked up content in general but if you saw this title and are still reading further you already know whats up, you sicko ;) this is unedited word vomit style typed directly into the tumblr post editor, bcs it was very very slow today and this was better than ruminating myself into an actual mental breakdown at freaking work so this is for the absolute freaks and please dont come for my ass if anything in the getting taxidermied by norman bates fanfiction isnt accurate

in thinking about the potential endings for an extended norman and reader romance... i think it would be such an extraordinarily delicate balance to manage a relationship and try to help him while avoiding the shitshow of human rights violations that was psychiatric care in the 1960s. and maybe you could manage it but if you couldn't......... perhaps he was hiding the true extent of his illness, even well into your relationship, even after getting married. some act of repression, of course he didn't want to scare you away and he was so certain he would, and nobody had ever loved him like you did and nobody ever would again. but ya just can't bottle it up like that without building and building the pressure... and to have a relationship, to have sex with you and marry you and try to be happy WITHOUT HER, oh what a grievous transgression to the ignored Norma, cast away to the far recesses of his awareness, he's managed to hold onto control for this long but the situation will simply not do, and she'll just have to eliminate the disgusting little bitch who stole her son away from her, take the reins back in a moment of weakness, of fracture -

and norman wakes up in a place he doesn't remember, in clothes he doesn't remember, but he remembers the fight and the fevered pitch of your voice, the wide-eyed fear in your face, his mixed up train of thought derailing, crashing, and the sound of his mother screaming in his ears. not a hint of a thought of what happened enters his mind as he retraces the trail of blood through the house, empty and automatic and despairing but still not connecting the ideas together until he actually finds the mangled heap of your body slumped on the floor, with the sick metallic smell of clotting blood, a dizzying lake of deep red bigger than he'd ever seen before surrounding you.... it's so shattering that he is disconnected even from the impulse to vomit, though he drops to his knees and screams and screams and screams...... and his mother is nowhere around to help him, and you're gone gone gone, forever! forever! but no! he hears your voice in his ear, soft though it startled him: "no, you can still save me, don't you remember? you've done it already before, norman, save me, save me before it's too late...!"

you're still even warm by the time he brings you down to the basement, cradling you in his arms and staining the clean clothes mother had gone out of her way to dress him in, still limp dead weight, he puts you on the table where he does his taxidermy and kisses your lips with blood on your mouth, pets your hair, coos a billion apologies. "oh my love, i should have never ever let this happen! i promised myself i would never let this happen to you that i would never let her hurt you im sorry im sorry im sorry i tried i tried!!" screwing his eyes shut at your body in front of him, crying tears that dripped onto your skin. and you shush him, your voice comes like a bell calling him in the darkness "i love you norman, i forgive you, but you must work fast now, you have to work fast to revive me!" he opens his eyes, far gone, nods fervently into your lifeless face, knowing that this would be very hard, and very easy, in that he had done it dozens of times before but not on this scale and not this fresh. he strokes the soft skin of your cheek, flits over to bring his tool kit near and then strips your body bare to begin his work - but he already has to stop, go up to the linen closet to bring towels and a bucket of water to clean the blood and gore off your skin, revealing in detail every grisly angry slash, stab, loose flap of skin that should still be all connected, should be, norman cries, with only an extremely dim awareness that it was his own hands that wrought this upon you. but he would fix it, he would suture your lovely flesh back together last, after the bulk of the work was done.

it takes significant effort to cut you with the same blade that he had cut birds and other small creatures with but he made it through all the layers of skin and fat and muscle, cut flaps to splay your belly open for easy access. and the inside of your body. explodes with colour and detail that he had never seen on this scale before. your insides were all shining red, and translucent membranous pink, with lipid yellows, greenish and brownish hues, pearlescent white fascia and winding lines of purple-blue connecting everything. and then he trembles all over seeing it his hands shaking violently, already slick with blood, as they approach the opening, and you comfort him, sweetly in his ear, "calm now, my love, i'm in good hands, i know i am, but you need to stop shaking, you need to be gentle." "i know, im just scared. i'm sorry, i'm so sorry..." "i trust you, norman." he steeled his nerves and then slips his hands oh so, so gingerly into the wet, the slick and smooth mess, the winding intestines, cold on the surface from contact with the air but still warm underneath, and he only loves you more and more and more that you trust him like this, that you let him do this to you, putting your faith in him to revive you.

he was struck by the intimacy of it, he was so close, closer than anyone else in the world had been to you, even closer than sex, up to his forearms in your body cavity, with all the beautiful unseen parts that had sustained your living body for so long, all those years........ you would have to learn a new kind of life now, with him. he scoops the intestines, they spill over the sides onto the table, attached at either end, and he realized he would have no place to actually put any of this once he removed it, he took the bucket with red translucent water and tipped it over into the floor drain. then, bringing it near, cuts your entire digestive tract free, placing it gently in the bucket. looking down at the heap inside, he feels a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and reached up to wipe it with the bloodied back of his arm. then, the pancreas, the kidneys and bladder, the liver (some cultures thought the liver was the seat of human love, he thinks), everything is so connected, tubes and gossamer-thin tissues that he has to dissect to separate the parts out. he has to reach underneath your ribcage to cut your lungs free, they sink in and deflate more as he works, and puts them too on top of the rest of your organs. then, last, your heart - he hesitates, and trembles, feeling the imperative to be especially delicate now, as if the muscle might disintegrate under his touch. but he feels around, remembering the anatomy diagram of the heart he'd learned so many many years ago, cuts free the three arteries connected to the aorta, the pulmonary vessels, both venae cavae, and suddenly he is holding the fist-sized organ free in his hand. he set his knife to the side and then reached in again, cradling the muscle in both of his broad palms as he brought it out into the light, letting out a shuddering breath - your heart! oh it was your actual heart, the heart that loved him, the heart that once beat in your chest, that he listened to countless nights to soothe himself, pressing his ear to your sternum. he sees the fatal gash the knife made, he turns his head and leans his ear in, though he knows it's silent anyways he almost starts to sob, "keep it," you say, and he startles "keep it, my love, it's yours, it was always yours" and he looks up into the ceiling "really? are you certain?" forgetting the anguish, and he feels your confirmation, your permission, as the warmth of your love. then, looks down at the deep red knot of muscle, presses a tender kiss there, and holds it to his chest, mirroring his own living heart. with reverence, he sets it on the table in his view and continues on -

it's best practice to remove the bulk of the skeletal muscle, too, and so he opens the skin on the arms that held him close, the legs and thighs that he'd had bliss between, and frees the long corded masses - the ones in the limbs come out of the body clean and compartmentalized, attached to the bone really only by two tendons on either end, separating easily from each other. this was by chance one of the largest buckets he had in the house but now it was full top with all your externalized insides, and the slippery smooth remainder of your muscles went to the floor - it was only a short distance to the furnace anyways, and all of this would have to go to the furnace, into the fire, you wouldn't be needing them anymore, and everything would have to be clean, clean, clean after. and now your body was ready for treating with the chemicals - there might not be enough, but it would have to do - and the sawdust which only seemed to come in large quantities, and it's easy, easy, art to craft the contours of your body that he learned, he knows from memory. he closes with care the long incisions he had made, making the flesh edges meet neatly all down the length of your limbs, up the i-shape he made on your abdomen and then, the awful wounds, slashes and gashes all over he sutures at last with a lingering feeling of sorrow, that dissipates when, finally cutting the last thread, he sees the miracle of life bloom forth on your face out from the monochrome of death "norman!" you smiled, with recognition in your eyes from where your head was limply rolled to the side

he smiled back at you, euphoria like a thrill of electricity tingling through his body as he reached out to cup your face - of course the fact he didn't have a sufficient amount of preservatives and anything didn't matter because it had little to do with the process of reviving anyways. it was all in the effort itself, in the way he marked his own soul in order to remake you and have you forever, it was in that labor of love where the actual transformation was made. he stroked his thumbs on your cheekbones, leaning over you and sobbing out "yes, yes, yes, yes, it's me, i'm here!!"

"you did it, i knew you could, i knew you would save me, norman."

"i could do anything for you, i would do anything for you!"

"i'm so cold now down here in the basement, i feel so weak and exhausted after everything... would you please help me get dressed?"

your bloody clothes were all heaped on the floor and he sniffled, blinking the tears from his eyes. "oh, those are all completely ruined..... I'm sorry... I'll take you up to the bedroom now, okay? and we'll get you into pajamas, and then you can just sleep for however long you need." and you would need the sleep - it was a strange and difficult new life to adjust to, being so dependent on him now for so many things, and you would never be able to leave the house anymore, which would likely be as hard for you as it was at first for his mother. but might get easier for you faster, he thought, as you had both found many more interesting things to do inside than he and his mother ever had in nearly thirty years until you came along. he kisses you on the forehead, and gently lets your head down, before he shifts his arms underneath you and scoops you up in a bridal carry, the whole weight of you in his arms as he carries you up the stairs to the main floor, then turned, climbing up and up again

"i was so scared when she killed me, Norman." Your voice makes his lip tremble as he looks down into your eyes, "but I know i'm safe now with you."

"Yes, you're safe here with me... You'll be safe here with me forever..."

He can feel the vibration of love coming off you, that keen resonation, it was always always there though he never managed to put it to its name, his heart absolutely swells with the sensation, love, pure ecstatic love! you were his one love and the most precious thing he had ever encountered in his life and now he could keep you safe from everything, forever, with him! oh, it didn't work out as nice for you as if it has never happened in the first place, but he could feel a new tension and energy, a precipice on which he was looking out at a new and encompassing depth of your bond, of your relationship, and he only had to dive in with you. he was almost even excited to start this new and beautiful era of your life together.

[fatuismooches]

SMOOCHES!! Hii cutie pie!! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

I hope you’ve been doing well and enjoying your week! I’ve had this small thought of fragile!reader for a while now so I now give this to you! I hope this doesn’t seem nsfw/suggestive it’s just fluffy fluff ><

Okay okay enough of my rambling! But fragile!reader and Dottore taking a bath together I think would be so so sweet. I think you’ve done something similar to this in the past (I’m not 100% sure so correct me if I’m wrong!) but I think that both of them being so vulnerable and being able to see each others body’s. Dottore most likely was forced into taking a bath with you, as with how fragile you are, he’s scared he would somehow hurt you. But you always reassure him that you love taking baths with him and that it’s something you always look forward to! With how fragile and weak reader is, I would imagine a clone or sometimes Zandik himself, helps them clean up and get all nice. Since your body is probably littered with bandages due to how much Dottore constantly injects you with medicine. But, they’re always so so gentle whenever they gently scrub your body n wash your hair with some lovely scented shampoo <3 (on more than one occasion you’ve definitely accidentally fallen asleep when a clone washes your hair because of how nice and relaxing it feels) but onto the main focus (sorry I went completely off topic there ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ )

But I think when you and Zandik do take baths, you two usually just admire eachother. Or well, you admire Zandik’s body. Since you always get to trace the many scars littered across his arms, hands, and chest. Sometimes if you’re even in a teasing mood, you kiss a few scars, which in return usually leads to Zandik having his ears tinted pink. (Yet he just blames it on the hot water) and I think Zandik would also in turn do the same. Gently caressing your body and soft bites on your neck or cheeks. Or even just admiring how perfect you are in his eyes, even if you may have scars, stretch marks, or things about your body that you don’t particularly like. (He always shoots down you talking negatively about your body because you’re literally perfect!!? Like there’s a reason he chose your and only you!) but this wouldn’t be a boo boo bear fic without angst. I think whenever you two do take baths and you’re just sitting in silence with your back pressed against his chest, he most likely notices how more bandages cover your frail body because of the injections. Or the bruises/cuts that you get whenever you trip or fall because of your weak legs not being able to hold you up. It only encourages him to focus more on your cure than his other experiments or Fatui related duties. And it only makes him to want to go for weeks on end without sleep. But of course, he’ll just have to enjoy these sweet tender moments he gets to enjoy with you. Even if most of the time you’re already asleep, he gently picks you up from the tub and wraps a soft fluffy blanket around you. Eventually changing you and tucking you into bed. Giving you a soft forehead kiss and leaving your bedroom. Only more determined in curing you soon.

Okay this brainrot was all over the place please excuse how horrible it is 😭!! (AND I REALLY HOPE THIS ISNT BREAKING ANY RULES OR MAKES YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE I DONT MEAN TO MAKE IT NSFW/SUGGESTIVE IF IT DOES COME OUT THAT WAY) It’s 11 PM right now but I’ve been feeling a little sad, and writing Dottore brainrots always help in distracting me. I hope you’ve been having a wonderful start to July and having lovely days everyday!! I give you so many chu chus your cheeks become sore hehe!! Okay okay I won’t talk much longer! I hope you enjoy it though!! >< I love u so so much mwa mwa!!! Many kisses and huggies

-from your dear boo boo bear 🎐 anon

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

🎐 ANON I AM GENTLY KITHING YOUR CHEEKS AS WELL OMFG I LOVE THIS SM😭🥺

CRYING I FEEL SO HAPPY READING THIS… yes yes you two definitely take baths together ;( Vulnerability is something that’s hard for both of you. Hard for you because your illness has made your insecurities about yourself increase. Hard for Dottore for obvious reasons, even now he still finds it hard to lower his guard this much around someone (but he still does, and continues to be confused and surprised by how nice it feels.)

You always have to drag him into the bath with you. In reality he would really like to. But when he sees how fragile you are, inwardly he curses himself for not hurrying up with your cure. Not to mention he is not the best with comforting you especially when you’re such in an open and vulnerable state. So he tends to let you be and trust the clones to take care of you. Luckily you’re smart about it and you always drop the idea of it when the two of you have already spent some time together, so this way he can’t escape you. (You always love the royalty treatment you get when he rolls his eyes and comments at your neediness but picks up you with ease and lets you rest while he sets the bath, making sure the temperature is just right for your body and health.)

It just felt so nice. And not just the soothing feeling of sinking into water and letting your worries float away. To others it may sound like a silly thing to be so excited over. But for you this was some of your highly cherished moments. It was where you felt you could be yourself with Zandik. You wouldn’t be judged about anything. There was nothing that could disturb the two of you. No sounds besides the splashing of the water. All responsibilities and troubles drifted away with the soap suds. It even felt like the concept of time didn’t exist. Only the two of you mattered right now. Not to mention Zandik takes his mask off so you could stare at his pretty face for a long time :) It was always a sight to see. Even though it was scarred he was still the most handsome to you.

Though a lot of the bath is simply you two appreciating each other’s body wholesomely. You’re always the one to initiate it (you can’t help it, sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky) and you always rest your head on his wet chest, gently kissing the scars there, snaking your arms around him and tracing the ones on his back too, while he just looks at you in amusement. When you’re feeling playful you’ll kiss the ones on his neck too and you can feel him to the same too ;( The gentle graze of his pointy teeth is strangely pleasant and he knows it. (Once during the Akademiya you were curious as to how sharp his sharky teeth were, and you asked him to bite you with force. You needed to put a bandage on it after that, and he had the audacity to be surprised at his own strength.) You always take the chance to wash his fluffy hair. You don’t know how he gets it so nice with so minimal effort. Turns out even he doesn’t know. But he looks quite cute when his hair is completely damp and it’s no longer bouncy, sticking to his face.

Of course you are the epitome of beauty for Zandik. No other being, human or not, comes close to you. This is extremely high praise from him considering he doesn’t see beauty or perfection in anything else. He doesn’t care about others in the slightest. He only sees you, and how you embody those traits. If you ever try to hide your body from him, he’ll just trap you in his arms so you can’t run away. And just tell you straight up not to be ridiculous. That since your days in the Akademiya he’s only had eyes for you. That every single part of you is alluring and makes him want more. He doesn’t mean to hurt you with his tone or anything. But he’s very serious when he says stuff like that. If it were possible he’d give you his eyes so you can see how he sees you (I mean it quite literally)

Even though you’re the one dragging him into this you always fall asleep first on his chest. And it’s this time when he fully gets to take notes of your body. Once again he wishes that you didn’t need to go through this. He longs for the day he holds the cure in his hand. When he gets to see you do everything you used to with ease. Maybe get a bruise from running so fast without a care in the world this time instead. Unfortunately you’re not awake to distract him from these thoughts. He takes a look at your face, it’s tired but you’re still smiling. And now he is a bit too, because you’ll always be by his side regardless. He knows you probably wish that he’d cuddle with you right now. But for your sake, he needs to press on.

As for the clones, they have created a schedule between themselves on who helps you clean up on which day. I feel like they exchange notes on which soaps and body washes and scents you like the best - they actually made it themselves, tailored to your likes and body and in case you have sensitive skin. Also, they are blowing the budget on the fluffiest soft towels for you! (Don’t let Pantalone know) I imagine they are always willing to help you since even the simplest tasks can feel exhausting and challenging for you sometimes. If you’re in the mood, sometimes you’ll be really talkative, asking them about lots of things. Or sometimes you’ll let them do all the talking and just listen happily. Or sometimes it’s just silence but comfortable. Either way, it feels very very soft and nice especially when they’re working the soap into your body and scalp (honestly it feels like a massage, depending on which clone you’re with, the older ones are more methodical and slow with it.)

I honestly can't remember writing something like this (if I have it's just been way too long 😭) BUT OMG I LOVED IT SM IT WAS LITERALLY AMAZING SHUSH. And I'm so sorry you're feeling sad :( I'm sending lots of hugs and kithes your way, Dottore is too <3 I hope you have lots of good days too!! Ily more!! Lots of smooches for you!! 💖💕💕💖

[slashingdisneypasta]

Prof. Aaron Callahan x Reader || Drabble

Plot: How do you react when it seems your rich, smug, cold, older fuck buddy appears to be developing feelings, for you?

Warnings: Sexual references+age difference.

The cold sounds of a suircase clipping closed and a purposeful intake of breath behind you alerts you of the fact that he's out of the shower. And that he's probably judging you.

The suitcase lands carefully on the marble bench next to your plate and Callahan appears beside you, a frown on his mouth and one judgemental eyebrow raised behind his glasses. He sizes up your toast slathered in peanut butter, and sighs. "Yah, that's too much peanutbutter."

"Oy," You point the knife at him, a glob of peanutbutter still clinging to the metal. "You're not eating it- you don't get a say in it." Lowering the knife, you wipe the glob onto your toast then lick the knife while he watches with a baited interest. "So get stuffed."

"Mmm... " For gods sake that fucking growl- you want to hate him but that sound makes you weak at the knees. Turning your head, irritated, you see him grinning smugly as he straightens his cufflinks. "I thought that's what you did- last night. With my co- "

-Immediately you threaten him with the butter knife again; pointing it towards his neck. "No. Don't even. It is too early."

He shrugs, that irritating grin pinned still to his narcissistic, egomaniacal face, and it's almost worse then if he'd continued to speak. Sighing, you look away and put down your knife, picking up a piece of your toast and taking a bite as you lean back on the obscenely expensive kitchen bench. "So- my classes finish up around 6 today but then I have a shift at the restaurant. I'll just go back to my dorm, I think,.. See you tomorrow?"

Rolling his eyes behind the thick-framed glasses that somehow look less nerdy on him and more... asshole-ish, Callahan sighs; rolling his shoulders in that tailored suit, too. "I don't know why you stay in that dungeon. You could just live here."

Ayayayay. "Why would I do that?" You know exactly why he wants that though, and its not because he loves you, or anything- it's because the bastard wants a live-in fuck doll. A sugar baby to play house with.

You're sure that one day he will find that girl, he's very rich after all and that voice, goddang-- but it is simply not going to be you. You're getting your degree, and then you're out of here; sleeping with him is just a nice stress relieving detour along the way. Really nice.

But temporary.

You will look back on this time when you're older with a groan but for now, it's serving you. He's serving you.

Even if that is just with secret sex behind closed doors when no one's looking.

Its good, in a desperate needy way- but it certainly isnt 'move in' good, despite his arguments. "For the amenities? Perhaps?" He suggests, getting an eyeroll out of you as you take another absent-minded bite of your breakfast. "Surely, you have to admit- my house is a lot nicer then your crappy little hole in the wall."

"And how would you know my place is crappy? You've never dained to visit."

"It's a college dorm- I don't need to sully my boots stepping into it to know that it's garbage, Y/N."

Slowly you sip your coffee at him, an unamused look written all over your face, eyes peering at him over the brim. He doesn't seem bothered.

"You know I'm right," He picks up the suitcase by the handle and slides it off the bench, checking his watch. Oh he thinks he's important, you think, shaking your head in bemusement as you set your coffee mug down again. Which- you suppose, he is. He runs a billion dollar law firm afterall, which is how he can afford this ridiculously shiny clean home. But, still. What an obnoxious ass. "Anyway, I have to go. Fine, come over tomorrow. I'll be at a luncheon from 12 to 3... but you have your key, right?" He's not rushed at all, but he still doesnt wait for you to respond. Dismissive old bastard. "Right. Okay, bye- "

"-Actually I'll be a little later." You quickly butt-in, setting your fingers carefully around a corner of one of your toasts; but not picking it up. It's wierd how you feel uncomfortable telling him this, you're not dating, but it is awkward. Peering up at him looking expectantly at you for the rest of what you just had to cut him off for, you take a short, huffy breath. "I have a date, around 4. Evening market."

"... a date?" He blinks, slow. Thinking.

"Yeah."

"Who??" The incredulousness in his tone annoys you, for why would he be confused about this (He certainly finds you attractive!! Why wouldn't someone else want to date you??), but you pace yourself and let it go.

"You don't know him, he's in one of my classes." Not apart of the law department. "Does it matter??"

"Well- I- " He looks like he wants to move and put his suitcase back down for some reason, appearing actually very put out about this development but trying to act like he's not. You watch him suspiciously, narrowing your eyes. What?? "I certainly don't want to be, what's that frat boy term??- " The man makes a show of thinking, before going 'ah!' and clicking his fingers- being obnoxious and theatrical for no other reason then because he's an asshole. "tunnel buddies, with some hippy english student, now do I?"

"... I'm sorry-- are you insulting my date or me??"

"Either way." He admits openly, quickly, making your jaw drop. Getting heated, you push off the side of the bench and turn to face him, a cross look all over your face.

"And- tunnel buddies?? You are a grown fucking man, are you serious!??"

"Unwaiveringly, sweetheart."

Swee- what is this man on!?? Who does he think you are, his 6 year old daughter in ponytails asking for a pet!? How dare he?? Why is he acting insane all of a sudden?? After taking a slow, deep breath- you gather yourself and just give him a dark look. "... don't you have somewhere to be?"

Evidently he does not, not anymore. "Look- I'm just curious, why you're dating the boys at this campus when you're already fucking me? There's no way this, well, this child-- can do you the way I can."

"Do me?? How eloquent, professor."

"I guarantee you no boy in this college is going to go down on you, that's for sure."

"You don't know that!" Where is this coming from?? Also... he's exaggerating, right?? He just thinks very little of his students right?? Surely-

Chuckling, he shakes his head and finally sets the suitcase back on the bench- though he doesn't let go of the handle. After licking his lips in thought, he looks back at you and holds up a finger to you- at you- like he's offering a point of view in court. Jesus Christ, if this is how he is during arguments at home it is no wonder his ass is divorced... not that you didn't already have a million other reasons someone wouldn't want to be married to the jerk. "Listen, fine, go ahead. Take the kid to your squalid home, your- well, what is no doubt a single bed. And wet his cock there, whatever- " A shrug of those broad shoulders and your jaw drops. "but don't come crying to me when you have to fake your own climax."

"Hey!- it's not like you haven't left me high and dry before, you ass!" He's done it multiple times, claiming he has to be somewhere urgently or he needs to get his sleep for work the next morning- or just bluntly telling you to handle it yourself. "Don't pretend like you're some gift to women in bed."

Immediately, he attempts to push on- offer a new argument locked and loaded in his brain- but its your turn. "And, I don't have to explain myself to you- but maybe I want to find a guy I actually could have a future with past college?? I'm sorry if I'm not dead inside yet like you and still think I can find someone nice. Someone more then just a regular fuck."

He squints at you reproachfully from beyond his glasses, thinking hard at that, while you cross your arms and glare at him back. "... whatever, I guess!" He finally sighs, flippant while picking up his suitcase again; finality in his tone. "Do what you want, but mark my words- when I see you tomorrow night, whenever that will be," he rolls his eyes upwards towards the ceiling and huffs out a dramatic sigh, referring to the fact you didn't mention how late you might be. Because he didn't give you a chance! you want to add, but stay silent glaring at him. "I just hope you're not too needy. I might not be in the mood, to fulfill you."

You scoff. "Then maybe I won't come."

He gives you another, momentarily reproachful look because you both know you'll come anyway- even just to sleep (It's just... routine). Then turns to leave you in his home, like he's done so many times before, aloof and nonchalant.

You watch him stop in his tracks, though, his back to you, shoulders taught in that tailored suit. For a moment he stays that way, then curiously turns half around to look at you again, a peculiar and skeptical look in his dark eyes. You raise a brow expectently, wondering what he wants now.

When he doesn't move for a few seconds too long, you open your mouth to ask him what the hell he's doing- still beyond frustrated by him. "Why are you- "

As soon as you start talking its like he makes his decision and comes all the way back to you, wrapping an arm suddenly around the back of your waist and dragging you directly against him while also trapping you against the kitchen bench. His lips fold against your own like kisses in those old movies; that perfectly deep make-out that has your mouths sealed together and all the way open and almost all-tongue. That 50's era 'goodbye honey, I'm off to work now but our unscheduled Thursday night missionary sex put me in a spectacular mood, have a great day til i come home again' kind of kiss. You're confused but your head is fuzzy because his lips are always so surprisingly soft and so warm and kill every little lick of sense inside you- you can't help but kiss him back.

When he abruptly dissapears from you just as quick as he came- you're even more confused by the look on his face; still peculiar and skeptical but, almost... pleased. A tiny tiny grin perks at the corner of his mouth.

You want to know whats going on in that evil little mind. What is he thinking? What was that kiss for? He never kisses you goodbye, its too... sentimental. "... what- "

"Lock the door on your way out." Then he's gone, sweeping out of the apartment swiftly like none of what just happened- happened. Like it was just any Friday morning and he didn't just break all the goddamn rules.

[tehrevving]

Had this lil thought, so clearly chaos is like a peacock, he seems loud and he's clearly VERY proud- him flaring his wings, them fluttering with glee when reader finally realizes its him in that side story for vincentweek2024. So I'll raise you this, au obviously to possibly match with Halloween, but winged reader (she has a full set of wings). Her wings definitely aren't something to scoff at, though compared to chaos her's would appear small, but for her, I imagine feathered wings with a claw of sorts (picture Maleficent's wings for visual if you would). The angel to Vincent's devil, almost literally. And Chaos is thriving off of it, he's got himself a little angel all perfect and pretty right for the taking when he finally gets to make his appearance.

Now me and you both know, chaos would definitely live up to his name, he's not fair at all when he's out and getting some playtime with her. He's abusing all those weak points winged reader has bc as someone who's got wings himself, he definitely knows how to play dirty and bring new ways to pleasure you onto the table that likely wasn't done before.

Just picturing it, you in his lap (bc i image laying flat on your back with wings isnt too comfortable) quivering with a choked mix of a moan and a gasp when his taloned, yet very talented fingers tease oh so mercilessly over sensitive flesh between your wings while the other carefully runs through one wings feathers reaching in places that are normally difficult to get to for you alone when grooming, while his much larger and impressive wings wrap around you almost protectively in reassurance that your safe to just fall apart right then and there under his smug, dark hungry gaze as he looks down at you with a predatory grin. Oh, he's having his fun alright, dragging out new little reactions from you which each action he makes that send shocks of pleasure that just absolutely ruins you, losing your concept of time lost for a good while.

It's an image Vincent's definitely getting echoes of when chaos retreats and he finds you blissed out on your shared bed, feathers ruffled in some spots and smoothed in other spots just looking like the image of art momentarily before he sets off to clean you up and soothe you down more. He's definitely taking note of every little quiver and jolt your wings make whenever he touches the same spots chaos used to ruin you.

Fuck yes Anon! Incredible imagery.

Chaos would be such a naughty little shit and I am all for it. I feel like he would deliberately leave you absolutely blissed out and incoherent just to make Vincent jealous when he regains control, sending flashes of memories of everything he did to you, just to rile Vincent up to make him have his own turn.

[doglike-sparky]

rundown of how bad tillys day has been: (its gross)

wake up. stomach hurts because you're still stressed out from everyone freaking out around you without explaining why. cant make it outside so you have diarrhea on the carpet. youve never been punished for this but you know thats Not Good so you get so scared about getting in trouble you throw up.

now your butt hurts because you have long fur so you try to scratch it on the carpet but that makes it hurt more and clearly you need help with this. so you decide to face the music and wake everyone up. you do this every day so you know how to do it: climb into bed, wag your tail, and paw at their faces until they get up. you leave a brown trail in and out of every room and all over every blanket- because your butt hurts and you feel the need to sit a lot.

theyll definitely punish you for the first time in your life when they see this. throw up again out of terror. get taken to the vet (after mom wakes up first and cleans up your trail of destruction) because youre ejecting too many liquids.

the vet is fucking terrifying and horrible. luckily you have nothing left on either end. vet sticks a horrible thing up your ass but lets you sniff the stethoscope which is cool. youre allowed to go home.. but theres a terrifying dog in the waiting room!!!

so you hide while the vet is paid for. now you can go home. you immediately fuck up the jump into the car and fall. youre partly caught but you weigh 21lb and everyone is weak. once you get poked around AGAIN to confirm youre uninjured youre lifted and put in the car. the windows dont even get opened for you 'because you dont have your harness' or whatever.

you go home. surely this is the end of it.

NO. BATH. MISERABLE HORRIBLE BATH. and you get your poor painful sore inflamed butt cleaned and your ass fur trimmed. which you needed anyway but it isnt comfortable. finally youre clean. surely thats it. Surely.

no. you have horrible chicken paste put in your mouth. youre awarded peanut butter for not spitting it out even though you want to. youre fucking cold after your bath. youre exhausted. its decided youve had enough and youre allowed to cuddle with your owner wrapped up in the last clean blanket in the house. AND. prescription wet food for dinner which it turns out you really love.

unfortunately the chicken paste is looming again

[dasha-haziez]

JinChul beloved

Istg i will write this fic myself- With all honesty, i really like the thought of Woo Jin-chul working to the point of beyond exhaustion, being in his headspace while working and not noticing the time AT ALL.

Like you know those times where you are doing something and really focused on them you didnt realise it has been hours?

But in Jin-Chul case, this might be unrealistic but he's been working for 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥. His substance are powered by coffee. Gallons of them at this point probably.

Promtly then snapping out of trance as he realise his body weaken. Like, tired kind of weak where youre muscles feels like jelly and stuff.

then Go Gunhee came into the office after another worker decided its probably a good idea to let the Chairman knows of his right hand man's situation.

I'm sure Gunhee is a busy man but he could always spare some time to do something else. And SOOOOO.

Gunhee took matters into HIS own hands. That being carrying the half-conscious Jin-Chul and manhadles him into bed in Jinchul's apartment.

And man does it look 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤. Its clean and all but the food- Fridge is empty asf and even cupboards!

Gunhee is aware about Jin-Chul staying in his office often and stays there at most time, though it never till the point he worked into passing out. Jin-Chul ate yes but only a good few bites before he stores them back into the office's fridge and going back to work.

So, Gunhee personaly, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘺 takes care of Jin-Chul. Like ordering food and suplements. Most food are not to heavy for the stomach too due to Gunhee worrying it'll do Jin-Chul no good at all.

Though after a good meal and chat with Gunhee, Jin-chul fell asleep for 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨.

Lets say four or three. Just sleeping there with occasional and really short time of him waking up to take a drink or bathroom break. Before plopping into bed knowing the chairman visit him in the evenings making sure of things are okay and dandy.

that said, Gunhee worries for the young man's health. Sleeping for days? Isnt that an anomaly by now? Though the healer says everything fine other then immense amount of fatigue and the lack of nutrients.

In the end things turns out fine, JinChul and Gunhee had a talk about the situation. Jinchul assures its fine and he'll try to take care of himself better.

Which spoiler alert, it happened again. Few times each year.

So Gunhee isnt suprised when someone calls him in for help.

Im gonna write this istg i will. The plot gon be where someone ask for Gunhee's help.

Cause JinChul beloved just passes out and they are all confused on what tf to do with it.

[andreilslovechild]

Dark AU

a universe where Mary never ran

or she tried but failed

and Neil is left alone without a mother

to suffer through his father's unique hell

a world where Neil is not Neil but Nathaniel

a world where Nathan decides evermore isnt good enough for his son

and so he trains him

hours and hours spent in basements with pigs and cadavers

slowly working the weakness out of his disgrace of a son

breaking him down before molding him back up into a newer better version of himself

And Nathaniel knows it

Deep down he knows it

but it's almost easier to believe it was his own choice

that he chose this

that he enjoys it

and soon enough his pretending becomes true

blood is a delicious shade of red

his smile is as sharp as a knife and just as deadly

he and his father still fought

oh they fought

but in this world, they fight over the slowest way to kill a man

the most painful wound to inflict

the worst way to be tortured

and Nathaniel has forever forgotten the softness of a boy unwilling to cause pain

Nathan trains him and Nathaniel trains and trains and trains

until the day Kengo dies

until the day Ichirou calls on him

until the day he's assigned to be Riko Moriyama's personal bodyguard

Nathaniel does not play exy

he hadn't played exy since that day long ago when he first met Riko and Kevin

and he's made it clear he won't be playing anymore

he will simply watch

it's easier to keep an eye on Riko that way

when he meets Riko again

he sees a kindred spirit

another man who feels accomplished only when crimson is spilled onto the floor

another man to whom screams are a melody of the most intoxicating kind

they immediately become friends

Nathaniel the only one who wasn't afraid of Riko

Riko the only one immune to Nathaniel's knifes

Riko's knives though

oh Riko's knifes were another story

rikos knives were the only ones Nathaniel was weak too

but if Nathaniel's knifes were ones of destruction and pain

rikos were ones of pleasure and art

the blades cutting just so into Nathaniel's skin to create beautiful pieces of art

to create brands that stayed for as long as Nathaniel lived

blades that sent sparks of pain and pleasure straight to Nathaniel's cock as Riko sits on his dick while branding him with his own initials

cuts that shiver and itch underneath his clothes while he watches Riko come alive on the court from the bleachers

scars that glow white under the florescent lights when he cleans blood splatter from his knife grin after disposing of a threat to his king

and then he returns to his raven-haired king with his wide black eyes and his visions of art that he creates on Nathaniel's body with his bloody pen