#implied alcohol use

[awetfrog]

happy quarantine release day to all whom celebrate can't believe they made him even more depressed

[ivymarquis]

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you���re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[thehammerhorse]

I had this idea that Toki would force Magnus to hang out with him and Rockso.

This is my first time drawing Rockso so be nice about it lmao

Line art wip under the cut

[wistfullywaiting2]

Odasaku, Sasaki, and the orphanage headmaster are all buried in the same cemetery.

So Kunikida, Atsushi, and Dazai all run into each other grave visiting regularly and politely pretend they don’t. They never acknowledge the meaning behind the bouquets brought, even if all of them know the others know flower language. They never acknowledge the tear streaks down Atsushi’s face, or the solemn look on Kunikida’s. Atsushi never points out how the scent of whiskey is always a bit stronger on Dazai’s coat. They never acknowledge the location of their accidental meetings.

Sometimes Kunikida might offer to take them to get food, or Atsushi will offer a random hard candy from his pocket, on colder days Dazai might lend his coat. None of them are really themselves when faced with grief, and none of them will to hold it against each other.

[theshadowrealmitself]

It just got pointed out to me that Merlin should be a lightweight

And Arthur wouldn’t be expecting him to be one

Some thoughts on that so far (maybe more later now that I have something new to ruminate on):

• Arthur watching Merlin closely to make sure he doesn’t get absolutely sloshed, is satisfied when Merlin only has one drink, is completely unprepared for drunk Merlin

• Arthur watching Merlin only have one drink and getting drunk/tipsy, obviously Merlin who practically lives at the tavern wouldn’t be affected by one drink, he must’ve been poisoned!! Arthur proceeds to be on a warpath

• Arthur almost accidentally giving Merlin liver failure cause he gets him a really strong drink(s) and Merlin feels pressured to drink it

• Arthur seeing Merlin accidentally get shitfaced and Merlin does not know how to take care of himself while drunk, so Arthur ends up deciding that Merlin spends so much at the tavern because he’s bad at getting home while drunk, so Arthur makes it his new mission to escort Merlin from the tavern every time he’s there

[fanged-fanfics]

Very specific fic ask with Vittorino, but could request an x fem reader fic of him introducing us to Accardi and Juliek? (Or him taking us to one of their little hangouts lol)

Thxxxx 💚

(P.S. you and your writing for 8:11 is super duper awesomesauce :P)

☆ Meeting The Trio — Vittorino x Fem Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Fluff || she/her pronouns for reader || TW/CW for implications/references to drug and alcohol use

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

You stood before a home unfamiliar to you, Vittorino beside you as he knocked on the door to it. You gave a cautious glance his way, and despite his stoicism, he gave you a brief smile. "I know these guys, don't worry. It's about time they met you, lord knows they've been asking for ages". You gave a little snort at that "I'm in high demand, huh?". "Just be careful" Vittorino replied "They're real vultures"

Before you could ask what that meant, the door pulled open, a man with a large pink fluffed accessory around his shoulders answering the door. "There you are! I was wondering when you'd make it, did you get stuck at-?" The man began, before his words abruptly cut once seeing you. "Oh.. one moment" he said, disappearing back into his home. After a few seconds of distant chatter, the pink man held open the door once again "Come in, come in, just don't get your shoes on my rug"

Once you entered, a man clad in mostly purple was awaiting inside on the couch. Bottles were on the table before it, and the pink one sat right next to the purple, leaning onto his shoulder. "This, Accardi, is that friend we've been waiting to see" he said, and the one revealed to be named Accardi looked to you. He gave you a reassuring, easy grin. You sat on the rug after taking off your shoes, beside Vittorino. "You've heard me mention her before, don't be coy, Juliek" Vittorino said. Juliek gave a grin as he sipped wine from a wide glass "No need to be so defensive, my dear priest, I'm just glad to see you're in such good company"

Vittorino just sighed, sliding out a tied bag from beneath his robes. He placed it on the table "I brought what we need. Home-brewed, as always". Before you could even get a glance, Accardi had snagged it up, Juliek quickly putting down his glass "You're a lifesaver, Vitto, you know that?". "I prefer miracle worker" Vittorino said with a little grin. He then stood, addressing you "I'll be heading to the kitchen, can't trip on an empty stomach. You need anything?" He asked you. "No, I'm okay" you said, giving Vittorino a smile that he returned before stepping out of the room.

As soon as you turned back, the eyes of his two friends were on you. Not judgemental or cruel... you think. The way they had such languidly confident grins made it seem hard to gague anything about them, but you knew they were sizing you up. "So, how did you do it?" Accardi asked. "Did what?" You asked back. "Get close to Vittorino" Juliek replied for his friend "We've been trying to get him out of that Basilica for ages, for more than just these little meetings we do. He's so withdrawn, we were surprised to hear he'd found company other than us"

"Ohhh. That's a little complicated, and it wasn't necessarily easy" You responded "But he's a good guy, I'm sure you two agree". "Eh, he's okay" Juliek shrugged. Accardi gave him a little nudge, before wrapping his arm around Juliek's shoulders. "He's been distant from us. We were worried, really. But you.. he hasn't stopped talking about you" Accardi said. You perked up a little at that "Really?". "Absolutely" Accardi responded "Almost every time he's around, we hear about this mysterious ally. You, as we came to learn". He then leaned forwards, and Juliek willingly let the man sip from his glass, holding it up for him. "You seem to keep him grounded" Juliek went on "It's nice, really. I was almost convinced he'd forgotten what sunshine was, with how pale he is"

You chuckled right as Vittorino came back, wiping the remnants of what he'd eaten off of his mouth "You're making a laugh out of me, Juliek? I wouldn't speak too loud if I were you". Juliek grinned rather than bristled, leaning into Accardi more "Nothing like that, don't worry that ragged head of yours over it. Just chatting with your friend". Vittorino went back to sitting beside you, leaning his shoulder against yours. "Don't listen to him, he'll peck at anything if it'll cause a rumor". "You say that like it's a bad thing" Accardi chuckled. Vittorino laughed with him, before having the bag slid his way. "Ah, right" Vittorino began, looking to you "I've told you what happens at these hangouts, you don't have to take part in it"

"Though it might help you loosen up" Juliek added in. Accardi pat his shoulder "Don't be that way, let her go at her own pace. She can make sure you don't do anything stupid". Juliek just huffed, pouring himself a full glass again. "Apologies in advance, ma'am" he said, giving you a more friendly smile "It's our way of bonding. We'll find a way to get you a cab, if you ever want to leave". "Thank you" you said with a returned smile, feeling Vittorino link his arm with yours as he leaned his head upon your shoulder. You returned it, patting his back. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

[bugsinshoes]

WHAT'S THIS ??? NEW OC ALERT !!

OKAY. OKAY SO I CAVED. I CAVED AND I MADE A NEW GRAVITY FALLS OC.

his name is Aysel Themis Del Mar !! a fellow dimension hopper who stumbles upon ford during his travels !!! aughhh idk how to properly introduce her so AH. JUST ENJOY !!!

i really wanna post more aysel stuff since i REALLY like him. my fav space cowboy ❤️

uhhhh but yeah. that's it. if you want to know more about her just send an ask :3 (i always love receiving them !!)

[st1mmywimmy]

davesport but they’re getting wasted in the safe room together stimboard

🍊absolutely WASTED davesport stimboard🍆

starts barking

art by mintedfish (instagram)

x x x - x x - x x x

[awetfrog]

respite

[interrogatormentors]

I've noticed Eridan's face is constantly flushed. Is that because of the soporifics he takes?

wwhy does it matter if my face is flushed or not people havve had wworse in terms of vvisibilities on the flesh

i drink a normal amount to be wwhat She likes best on the nightly

She doesnt like me sober and if im bein honest feww people do. She says the colour to my face brings out my ganderbulbs and if its wwhat She wwants i wwill be it

and i do evverythin better wwith a bit in the tank anywways if you get wwhat i mean

noww i aint goin about like a lush or nothin of the sort but again ivve said it before. imbibin a lil bit nevver hurt nobody

[helluvabossrewrite45]

Hazbin Hotel Rewrite; Opening up at the Bar

From what I seen from hh with how it handles sa topics, it's very...questionable. Now the show hasn't still come out yet so I won't go into detail about it, but with how they use the song 'poison' and behind the scenes of it (viv making a sex joke as marketing the song and the lead storyboard shipping val x angel despite what it's meant to portray in canon) makes it understandable for people to critque the show's portrayal of it. So for here, I want to approach Angel's truama as respectfully as I can with Angel opening up to Husk as it seems to be the same episode where both of them improve their relationship. I hope I'm able to address sa well because I know it's a very delicate topic that shouldn't be written lightly (especially for truama responses like hypersexuality) so if you have any problems with how I written it and how I should change it, please let me know. I will rewrite it until I portray this topic properly and credit you for your critque/help (unless you don't want to)

Content Warning; SA and mention of drug/alcohol addiction

A bar full of bottles and boozes sitting there in windless silence, aching for their next customer. Its emptiness is numbing, the stranded desert of this hotel. Husk, tapping his fingers in rhythm, halts it as though the ticking of a clock stops and sighs in relief, grateful that his work is now done. He takes a bottle of booze, fulfilling its fate as he opens the lid to drain it all down, until he hears the door creaking. 

He groans “Oh it’s you,” as Angel Dust drags himself towards the bar, collapsing his face to the poseur table. “What do you want now? Bar’s gonna close soon. So hurry up.” 

Angel’s face tilts up. “A drink, please.” His voice is soft yet hoarse.

Husk rolls his eyes, wishing for that sweet graveness to enter this bar once again. He goes through his bottles. “Which one?” He asks with a hostile glare.

“Any.”

Angel Dust slowly lifts himself up from the table, staring in discomfort at Husk grabbing a random bottle from his shelf, a sense of dread lingers onto him. 

“Husk…” His voice grows quiet.

“What?”

“I’m…sorry.” His eyes not meeting Husk’s gaze. 

“For what?” He responds snappily, placing one hand to his hip.

“For earlier…” Angel answers, his eyes still refusing to see Husks. “For saying and doing all those weird things to you, I'm sorry.”

His grouchy face still remains. “Whatever,” firmly placing the bottle to the table and swishing it towards Angel. “Don’t do that again.”

“Yeah,” his body tenses, “I hope so…”

Husk brows raised. “Hope so? What do you mean?”

The question hangs on as Angel Dust fiddles their hands, looking down at the wooden dry floor. The room has been fogged in silence as Husk finds himself repeatedly tapping his fingers, wondering when the clock will finally end its grating tick. 

“Well…” His voice quivers, tracing his eyes back to Husks. “I don’t know…”

Husk’s face turned puzzled. “The hell you mean you don't know?!” 

“I-” Angel pauses himself for a moment, “I don't know. I just don’t know.” His face bangs on the table as his arms come to cover.

“Ah well, might just be a you problem then.” He cackles at his own joke, with hollow applause. 

Angel huffs, “That’s what you all think.” His voice became more irritated. 

Husk’s laughter abrupt into cold stillness, his voice freezes with the rest of his body. 

Angel continues, “All of you think i’m just some dirty sex pest, huh? A running sex joke?” Anger starts to rise through his voice, “Even Charlie thinks what I do is just who I am- like I chose this!” He cuts himself off, facing down to the lifeless floor again. “Like I chose this…”

Husk words vanished, his voice having trouble coming out of his mouth. All he could do is stand there, watching Angel Dust ponder through his thoughts. 

“You know I don’t actually like being sexual twenty-four seven? Crazy right?” He formed a smile, though not by sweetness, but by bitterness. “I don’t actually like making endless sex jokes or dirty talk, I don’t actually like to constantly fantasise or masturbate or sleep around with a bunch of nobodies,” bitterness starts to spread through his voice, “and I especially don’t like working in that place!” He holds his breath, exhaling to serene air. “But I do it anyway, no matter how hard I try.” His finger scratched the table harshly with a melancholic frown. “I don’t know what is wrong with me, I didn’t used to be like this, it was only after-” Angel cuts himself off as his body starts trembling. He places a heart on his hand, feeling the rapid sounds of his heartbeat. “After…” He slows himself, unable to muster anything else to speak of. 

His eyes lift to Husk, seeing the statue that he became, his widened pupils not even taking one blink. Angel’s face rose with worry, “Oh uh…sorry.” He murmurs. “Sorry, I’ll just take the booze or-”

“Go on.” Husk's voice comes back again.

“W-what?” He quivers, taken aback by what he heard.

“Go on…” Husk's voice trails off, still a statue of himself.

Angel Dust pursed his lips, facing down once more. “There was a time back then, when I sneaked into a bar for some alcohol, the thing that helped me most when I was alive. There was a really fancy bottle, porcelain white shimmering with bubbles, I couldn’t help myself. I had to have it. Then he caught me, I thought he would kill me. Instead, he made a deal; that if I work in his business, I won’t need to steal anything or even need a place to stay…” He breaks off, his fingers scraping themselves to a shell. “So I worked as one of his sex workers; a stripper for his bars, an actor for his films, anything to do with sex, really. It wasn’t what I was always interested in, but it felt…better? Being more open and honest about myself that I never got to do on earth. That is, until I came back to his home…He told me he wanted to show me something, my ‘reward’...” He holds back on his words, wrapping his arms around in a warm embrace. “After that, I…I don't know, I guess that’s where I started becoming more sexual. It’s like a switch where my mind now constantly thinks about sex, even if it’s not what I want. It’s my poison.” He holds onto his words again, reflecting his thoughts. “Maybe it’s a way of control, to take back what he did to me, not letting him hurt me…but is it any good if you can’t control it yourself?” He finds himself eyeing at the bottle of toxicated liquid. “That’s why I came here, I couldn’t find any drugs. So alcohol will just have to do.”

Husk exhales a quiet breath, with Angel’s words stalling through his mind. He saw Angel reaching for the bottle. “Wait!” He alerts, taking the bottle before Angel could have the chance. Angel looks at him, confound. “Why?” Husk fell silent, wavering on his memory like a lightning struck in a bottle. He places the bottle back to its fateless place and starts rummaging through the tea bags until one reads ‘Black Caravan Tea’. He places the tea bag in a muggy cup and clicks the kettle to brew. Minutes go by as the kettle finally makes its thump, breaking Husks trance as he pours the steamy water onto the cup and gently pushes it over to Angel. “Here” He says softly. “Careful, it’s hot.” Angel slowly directs his eyes to the hot tea, then back to Husk, his mouth making a quiet gasp. “I know it’s not much,” He adds. “But for you, I hope it can be enough.”

Angel dust calmly blows the steam off his tea and takes a sip, warm smoky sweetness filling his mouth in peaceful bliss. He continues sipping it at a slow pace, enjoying each moment with him and his magical tea, transforming his mind to ocean waves, hearing its soothing whooshes and the pleasant echoes of bird’s chirping. After taking one last sip, he notices Husk with his own muggy cup, cooling off the steam before slurping down the whole tea to an empty cup. His grouchy face disappeared, replacing it with a genial smile; friendly and relaxed. Like warming his face with radiant golden sunlight. 

“What’s this?” Angel asks as soon as Husk tastes his last drop.

“Black Caravan.” Husk replies, licking his lips. “My Babushka always makes this tea, saying ‘If you get upset, don’t waste your mouth with vodka, relish it with Caravan.’” He glimpses away from Angel dust, shining a little star in his eyes before glaring at the shelves of bottles and boozes. “Heh, no wonder I hadn’t remembered…” 

Angel snickers. “My Nonno says something similar. He said; ‘You don’t stuff your mouth with alcohol, you stuff it with Frittelie!’” They both chuckle with each other, reminiscing of their old lives before the room went to silence. Both eyes looking away from each other as Angel proceeds to fiddle with his hands and Husk tapping his table, now only slow and with no rhythm. A clock’s final strikes till midnight. “You know,” He spoke solemnly. “After you're done with work and all, instead of finding drugs, you can come straight here to talk or have some tea. Either one or both to get off some steam.” 

Angel glances back to Husk’s sentimental gaze, his eyes lit up. “You’ll…You’ll do that?”

“Yeah.” He responds, keeping his gaze to Angel Dusts. “I’d do. For you…”

Their eyes locked in their gazes, their beating hearts twined to one another. Angel’s eyes turn away from the burning faint shades of pink of his face, looking steadily at the cup. “Yeah,” a small line shaped to a tender smile, “I’d like that.”

[fffanii]

06.13.24

[theweightlessness-recedes]

One LAST kiss,

I Love You like an Alcoholic . . .

Yap time in undercut cuz y not?:

I wonder if Aubrey's father is even attempting to try talking to her and the wife despite all of everything that happened... like sure he either left them before Mari's death or after. But I imagine later in 4 years, Jace thought of visiting Aubrey since he hasn't seen her for a LONGGGG time now, and what did he receive?

A huge pile of mess and his drunken ex-wife. But for some reason, he felt like talking to her is kinda the only way to hear the response.

And yes aubi's mom has a name now, her name is Athena.. !!

[radioactive-circus]

Saw this on Pinterest and it inspired me

[hollowfaith]

bottoms up

he can drink if he wants to

[familiariscanis]

i made a post yesterday about how none of chuuya's behavior is alcoholic whatsoever so now lets talk about how some of dazai's behavior is.

(dazai's entrance exam and the untold stories of the agency light novels)

kunikida frequently mentions dazai day drinking, and dazai himself says he spends a lot of time at bars and pubs. kunikida also makes a reference to himself drinking to excess when he's with dazai, which is another indicator. people who are addicted will often bring other people into their addiction and encourage others to binge drink, because if everyone else is doing it then it seems more normal and it's easier to deny to themselves and others that they have a problem.

but of course, this is dazai, and we all know how hard it is to tell if he's sincere. he could just be putting on an act of a good-for-nothing day drinker when he's with other people so that he isn't taken seriously.

bsd wan episode 6

only the inside of his dorm looks like this. waking up hungover with tons of bottles by your bed is kind of an alcoholic look buddy. though to be fair, this is wan, so the canonness of it is perhaps under scrutiny, but i wouldn't be surprised at all if this is just what his room looks like (not sure if his dorm has been shown in any other content?).

while none of these are definitive proof of anything, i'd still be inclined to take all of these instances as truthful, and interpret dazai as having a tendency to abuse alcohol. an important thing to note is that alcoholics can be far, far more functional than people think, so dazai being as intelligent and capable as he is certainly does not preclude him from alcoholism! of course, he might not be a full-blown alcoholic, but that doesn't mean he doesn't abuse alcohol or have an unhealthy relationship with substances.

another reason i'd be inclined to read into these little moments is simply because he's dazai, and the real dazai osamu not only had severe addiction problems but those addiction problems also feature heavily in his writing. namely, in no longer human. like the real dazai, yozo becomes addicted to narcotics and alcohol. several of the other major themes in no longer human (such as the suicidality and the womanizing) have been made into facets of dazai's character, so it doesn't seem like a leap to think that perhaps the addiction issues could be there too.

alcoholism is also very very often a comorbid disorder, and a lot of people who struggle with addiction have other disorders or problems that came first that they weren't able to get treatment for. other mental illnesses, physical health problems, poverty, abuse and trauma can all be contributing factors to developing an addiction.

my personal interpretation of this is that post-oda's death and defecting from the mafia, dazai no longer feels like he can kill himself, because of oda's last words to him. none of his suicide attempts in the ada era are effectual and they're very often played for laughs and whenever he gets himself into a dangerous situation he's always got a plan to get himself out. dazai isn't trying to die anymore. he has something tying him down to life now. multiple things, actually. there's multiple people he's sticking around for, but that doesn't mean the desire to die is gone. alcohol numbs that (and then makes it worse, but then you just drink more to get rid of that feeling. and so the cycle of alcoholism continues). yippee self-medication!

it's a little interesting how dazai has displayed these behaviors and how they feature so heavily in a novel he's loosely inspired by, and yet chuuya is the one who gets the alcoholism hammer from fandom. i think perhaps part of this is because of a tendency, at least on a subconscious level, to view alcoholism as a failing or weakness. society has taught us that being addicted means you are mentally weak and do not have the fortitude or will power to stop, and while canon chuuya actually has significant mental fortitude and sticks to his own morals, fanon chuuya emphasizes the times when dazai gets the upper hand over him, turning chuuya into someone who has no control over himself or his own life, which fits in with the common perception of alcoholism.

this post got much longer than i expected it to so i'm going to stop myself now. i'm not saying that this means dazai definitely has an addiction or that you need to write him as having one, but it's something i find personally interesting and fitting for his character and canon seems to align with that possibility.

in conclusion: hey dazai you ever thought about going to aa (do not go to aa it would not go well)