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brainrotcharacters · 2 months ago

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What if Angel didn't like to cook because they were food poisoned? @chimckenns pinned it on michael

Angel kept their back turned to the locked bathroom door as they vomited on the sink. The sour stench of what must be gastric acid mixed with saliva and the strings of pasta climbing back up their throat had been their entire life for the past fifteen minutes.

"Okay, now you're just being dramatic." Michael's muffled voice spoke through the door.

It was easy to ignore him, considering Angel's stomach seized once again when they puked a fresh wave of spaghetti. Groaning, they set their forehead onto the faucet, one hand on the sink and the other around their hair. It was all Angel could do to scan the bathroom for any pseudo-hair tie or clamp, on account of being unable to walk three steps without hurling their guts up.

As if on cue, Angel felt the urge to gag. The bits of pasta were still slipping into the sink drain, forcing them to crouch over the toilet. They hurriedly wrapped their hair into a bun before leaning over the open seat and puking.

"I'm never gonna cook for you again if you're gonna be this immature about it every time!"

That's funny, because Angel already decided to break up with him five minutes ago. Enough with the benefit of the doubt. They flushed the toilet before pushing themselves to their feet, slamming the bathroom door open.

Michael was already frowning when he whirled around to face them. "What."

"What did you put in the food." Angel reached for the hair tie on the nightstand. For good measure, they also grabbed their wallet and a bundle of plastic bags from the drawers. Every motion twisted their already empty stomach and made them dizzy.

"Nothing! I followed the cookbook to the letter! I even asked my mom! You're the one with the problems!" Good. He was finally angry. That was better than any nonchalant bullshit he preferred to pull.

Angel already tied their hair up in a bun and made their way back to the bathroom. "Did you use clean equipment?"

Michael hesitated. "I would have if you cleaned the dishes like I told you to!"

"Okay. Understood." They held his gaze, committing that frustrated, hateful expression into memory before returning to the bathroom to vomit again.

When the doctor confirmed it was food poisoning, she set Angel up for an IV drip and twenty four hour-monitoring. She had their record on hand when they checked in, "By the way, I noticed it's your birthday today. I'm sorry this happened. Let's work on fixing you up."

"Thank you, Doc." Angel said hoarsely. "Um, this is actually my first time getting an IV drip. Is it supposed to itch?"

The doctor smiled patiently. "Please don't scratch it. I'll check in again in a few hours."

David cooked spaghetti for Angel's birthday. Granted, it was the first time he tried it, but they've been together long enough that he felt the need to acknowledge one part of his mate's culture.

Somehow, he didn't need to look to know how Angel hesitated at the sight of that platter of red pasta on the dining table. "I heard you always put hotdog slices on top, but grated cheese is optional."

"Right!" Angel grinned, an exaggerated bounce in their step as they approached. David hunched down as his mate stood on their toes to peck his cheek in greeting. "Thank you, baby. You didn't have to."

"You okay?" He asked lightheartedly.

Angel inhaled sharply through their teeth, claiming a seat. Communicate. Trust him. "I... Have a personal vendetta against spaghetti."

A slow blink as David tilted his head. His mate continued, "I'd like to say I learned how to deepthroat using classic techniques, if you know you know. But nothing in this world reached the back of my throat and twisted my guts quite like this thing. So I guess Michael isn't your actual rival." They grinned.

David blinked again. "Did he poison you?"

Angel's smile faltered as they exhaled. "You know, that's your real magic power. I didn't stand around to ask if he did it on purpose, before you ask. It was a whole mess. I broke up with him after I was discharged from the hospital. So, there."

Their boyfriend stared for a moment before slowly pulling back the platter of spaghetti. Angel's heart broke, and they shot their hands out, stopping him. "No, no! I'm gonna eat. I wanna eat."

"You sure? I don't mind." David said quietly.

"Davey," they stood. "Okay, um... I was pissed at myself that I let it happen. That he was so irresponsible and didn't care about me. He's not gonna have that power over me. You can help." They pulled the plate towards them.

David held Angel's gaze. "You're very persuasive." And he conceded, letting them eat.

#redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted audio #redacted asmr angel shaw #the filipino culture of spaghetti for birthdays

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heartbreakgrill · 2 years ago

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happen: sleep token (vessel).

a/n: we pretend we don’t see my unfinished fics, okay? also we pretend we don’t see my spelling and grammar and plot mistakes in this, okay? okay. enjoy :)

"your paint is smeared."

vessel looked up from his piano, first meeting my eyes, then following where my finger pointed to.

"shit," his accent stuck out like a sore thumb, elongating the i in the cuss word.

vessel wiped a finger across the paint in an attempt to blend it in. it didn't do much.

"i think you might be making it worse," i commented with a smug smile.

vessel met my sneering gaze. he was unphased by the sarcasm on my tongue. he reached a blackened hand forward as he tried to rip the clipboard from my hands. i ducked out of his reach. the piano blocked him from me, but his arms were long enough that he managed to swipe a hand across my stack of papers.

i scoffed, stepping back a few feet, examining the black paint overtop my paperwork. "vess!"

"y/n!" he mocked my tone. he rounded the piano, coming to look down at the paper in my hands. "your paint is smeared, lovey."

i looked at up with an annoyed stare, "fuck off."

vess patted my bare shoulder, sending electrically shocked goosebumps down my clammy skin. i shifted my arms, hoping he wouldn't notice how i shivered under his touch.

"i'll go get some more paint, kay?" i offered with a deep breath.

vessel settled in front of his piano again. he nodded, pressing a few keys, "there's a tube in my dressing room."

"be right back."

i turned on my heel and headed for the stairs. i passed ii, who patted my head, and iv, who made some chirp about me owing him a shot- which just wasn't true.

i reached the dressing room soon enough. i'd been in here- in the other ones- numerous times. we often all hung out as a group between shows, in here or out on the town with various disguises on the boys. i still didn’t know who the guys were outside of those masks and strange nicknames. sam did, of course, because he’d been teching for the boys for years now. plus, they all had a brotherly relationship. they trust him.

for some reason, going in here by myself felt provocative. i kept my vision tunnelled, just in case they left something important out. they were men, after all-messy, sometimes careless, forgetful.

outside clothes, hoodies and sweatpants i recognized, sat strewn across the chairs and couches. their personal cellphones were sat with their things, different from the work phones they had been assigned. i had their work numbers, for professional conversations, for getting bullied by ii and iv in the groupchat. vessel and i talked, sometimes, about new coffee shops in new towns we'd be stopping by, movies we'd need to go see when we had a day off.

personal phone numbers were for the trusted.

i b-lined for vessel's paint and brushes, on the counter beside his phone. as i did, my eyes glossed over a wallet. it wasn’t one that i recognized. but, i knew that it was vessel's. or, whoever he really was. my fingers itched with a curiosity that i could not feed. it was none of my business who they were. if they wanted me to know, they'd tell me. they'd unmask themselves when we're chilling out on the tour bus.

if vessel trusted me, if he felt our silly conversations held any depth like i thought they did, he'd tell me who he was.

no matter that i'd known him for six months and hehad yet to do so. no matter that i thought we might have reached that point. no matter that sometimes, when he looked at me, there was a longing sat right behind his eyes, a wanting that made me feel entrusted, that made me feel like he understood what was bleeding off my skin.

no matter.

i grabbed the paint and headed back for the stage. vessel was sitting on the side of it now, talking to ii about something or the other. i handed the paint off to him. i went to go backstage, heel prepared to turn, when he spoke, "thanks, lovey."

ii followed vessel's gaze up to me. i stood overtop of them. ii's eyes raked up my bare legs, over the little black dress i wore. he met my eyes and nodded. "hey, gorgeous."

ii always enjoyed flirting with me. playfully, of course. vessel rolled his eyes at the usual quip. "here we go..."

"i am going to do my job. see ya later!"

ii reached up and grabbed my hand before i could leave. i jerked back to my spot, brows raised. ii shook my arm around, "go on, darling, give us a strut."

"you're ridiculous," i ripped my hand from his, though i chuckled slightly.

"tell her, vess," ii nudged his bandmate's shoulder with his elbow, "tell her how beautiful she is. she just doesn't believe me!"

i met vessel's eyes. he never joined the boys in their teasing, never flirted like ii did. he was always genuine, kind. our conversations were always full of depth, too. in fact, he never showed much interest in me besides those longing, full glances that i took to heart, that i let create a delusional fantasy land in my head. everytime i thought he might be, when we'd have these great conversations, he'd pull back. like was afraid, or he didn't fully trust me.

so, i shuddered when vessel's eyes drug down my body, over my exposed chest, the barely visible tops of my boobs, the curve of my waist, hugged tight by the dress, and the skin of my thighs and calves, right to the tips of my platform boots.

it was then that i realized today was going to be a very different day.

"you look..." vessel rolled his eyes back up my body, to my own flustered gaze, "good."

i couldn't get away fast enough. i thanked them both, stuttering slightly, before turning on my heel and racing towards backstage. i bumped into iv's shoulder and muttered a half-hearted apology.

i knew that they all were staring at me, analyzing my girlish behavior. i knew they'd talk about it.

and that was embarrassing as fuck.

when the show ended, i was determined to not be anywhere near any of the boys. i escaped to the bus sam, myself, and the other techies slept on. i changed into comfortable clothing and lay in my bunk, willing the blush on my cheeks to finally leave me alone.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. did i long for him to say something like that? duh!

did i actually want it to happen? no, bitch.

because that changed everything for me.

i just needed to hide out here for the night, will my anxiety and the fawn look in my eyes away. tomorrow, i could shift everything back to how it was. tomorrow, he’d probably act the same- passive, uninterested.

even if there was any weight to that entire interaction, it’s not like anything could even happen between us.

management made the band swear off girls for risk of privacy and in order to focus on their work. besides, i worked for the band. i helped run every single show they did. they were my boss’.

and there was that whole issue of him not trusting me. because it was so obvious that he didn’t.

i was letting my brain run around too much.

what snapped me back to reality was the commotion of everyone returning to the bus, excited chatter from the other men on the crew filling the once silent vehicle. sam's voice got closer as he and another techie approached their bunks, across and above from my own. i figured they’d just be grabbing something before everyone headed out to the bar.

but, of course- that wasn’t my luck.

"yoohoo," sam knocked a fist on wall, near my head, "is there a y/n in here?"

i huffed, "what do you want?" i knew they were here to berate me to come out with them. but that would mean seeing the boys- having to confront the issue that was vessel.

"get up, grandma," sam teased me for being in bed so soon, "we're going to the bar."

"i'm tired," i replied, a slight groan in my voice. please just go away.

"that's a load of bull," sam scoffed, "you literally said this morning that you wanted to go out tonight."

i went to reply, but more voices filled the bus, all too familiar ones that made my chest tight.

"what's going on? is y/n okay?" that thick british accent burst through whatever i was gonna say next. iv.

then, another spoke- ii, i was pretty certain. "what? what's happening? aren't you coming out, y/n?”

i shoved my head into my pillow, wanting to scream. the only downside of tour was this obvious lack of privacy. i appreciated that my presence was always wanted by just about anyone i worked with. but, god, can’t a girl daydream and regret her actions in peace?

i pulled open the curtains sheltering my bed, just a fraction, not even trying to mask my annoyed expression. ii, iv, and sam were squatted just outside my bunk. sam wore a cheeky grin, but the others had their outside masks on. i could read their energy well, though.

"i'm fine, guys," i waved them all off, cuddled up under my blankets, "i just wanna chill tonight."

"no! you can't! please! you have to go out with us! you promised last time you would! plus you owe me a shot!" iv whined, head tilted to the left. he really needed to find a new gimmick.

i rolled my eyes, "you're a baby."

"wow, y/n," ii set a comforting hand on iv's shoulder, gasping at my insult, "that's harsh. here i thought we were friends."

sam laughed in response, "yeah, y/n. that was really mean. you hurt iv's feelings." he, also, touched iv’s arm.

i met iv's eyes with pursed lips. his eyes read no signs of offense. we were all always so mean to each other and i knew they’d call me out if i ever took it too far. no, this- this was them bullying me back. trying to get me to come out. they’d probably, eventually, get on me about my flustered escape from earlier. ii nudged iv, and he began to fake cry, head dropped down into his hands.

i rolled my eyes again with an exasperated huff, "oh, my god. here we go."

the bus door swung open, then shut again, as the rest of the band made their way in. i didn't notice, too caught up in the boys' theatrics to get nervous that vessel was in my vicinity. he stood just out of sight, watching all of us.

iv sobbed, shoulders rocking. "i can't believe you'd say that, y/n!"

"whatever. im not coming out, freaks,” i went to shut the curtain, but sam pushed it open all the way.

i dropped my head to my pillow in annoyance. ii spoke now, egging on the situation further. i grew nervous he’d bring up earlier, "there's just one thing you can do to make this up to him."

"let me guess, it tastes like vodka and rhymes with hot?" i murmured as i pressed a stressed hand over my eyes.

ii pried my hands from my head. “actually- tastes like hennessy and rhymes with get the fuck out of bed!" he, then, reached into my bunk and tickled my sides.

i laughed this ugly, wheezing laugh, squirming away from ii's reach. iv's showcase of crying twisted into him falling back onto his ass, laughing with his head thrown back. sam held onto the bunk as he joined. i then heard vessel and iii's laughs, echoing from a bit down the hall. i tried to snap myself out of the situation, insecure by vessel's presence. but, ii just wouldn't stop tickling me.

luckily, he did, leaving my face red, tears spilling out of my eyes, and a newfound energy to get up from my bunk. i didn’t forget that vessel was standing there, watching. and, i knew, i’d have to face the reality of my embarrassment eventually. but, the boys drunk were usually pretty sweet.

"alright," i huffed and shoved the covers off of my body, "let's go, you freaks."

"you'll come?" ii offered me his hand, helping me off of the floor.

"yeah, i'll come," i released his hand, steadied on my feet. i shoved his shoulder as i walked towards the closet at the end of the hall. i pushed past sam and iv to get there. as i searched through my bag, trying to find my dress from earlier, i felt eyes still on me. all the boys had begun moving from the bus, going outside to smoke and wait on me. but, vessel was still there. lingering.

he waved at me as i looked down the hall towards him. my face flushed again and i gave an awkward smile. god, i was not helping the situation. if anything, i was making it worse, making him uncomfortable, ruining everything. he’d never trust me now.

i put back on my little black dress, tights to bear the cold, platform boots. my makeup was still in tact, though i had to clean up a few smudges made by my sweat from the show. i finally met everyone outside the bus, drawing eyes to my body as i bounded down the steps.

"still looking sexy, darling," ii flirted, cheekily, taking my hand and forcing me to do a little spin in front of everyone.

as i faced back to everyone, i pulled my hand from his and shoved him away from me again. "creep- let's go. you owe me a shot."

"um, i think it's the other way around," ii scoffed.

i began walking from the group, towards the bar down the street. i tossed a confused look over my shoulder, "that never happened. you're crazy."

i left behind a trail of laughing men, a stunned ii. they teased me- but i did back just as much.

it was just a five minute walk, and i kept my pace ahead of everyone because i was cold and wanted to get there quicker. i knew someone was watching me- again. i knew the feel of that stare. i knew it was vesel. so, i tried to stay just far enough ahead that he couldn't catch up. i don’t think i could keep up any meaningful conversation when my heart was still beating this quickly.

alas, the over 6' man fell in stride beside me, easily, hands shoved in the pockets of an alpha wolf sweatshirt. he adjusted his sunglasses, inhaling a chilly breath before saying, “why’d you run off earlier? before the show? did i- say something wrong?”

"no reason," i snapped a too-quick response, arms crossed over my chest. my cheeks were reddening again.

he tsked his tongue, “good. shame, though, i didn't get to enjoy this dress for as long as i would have liked to.” i couldn’t see his eyes- but i knew they flicked down over my body. i straightened up under the gaze.

what game was he playing?

maybe he just wanted to hook up. i knew it wasn’t anything serious for him, because it couldn’t be.

i could imagine he and the boys were horny. all the time they’d spent declaring celibacy on this tour must be getting to them. so, i convinced myself that’s what this was. but, i of course didn’t want that.

so, i couldn’t help but feel let down that i had gotten my hopes up. i had thought that maybe, just maybe, he wanted me like i wanted him. that, again, maybe, he trusted me like i wanted him to. like i trusted him.

i looked up at him, head tilted back from his height. i tried to read the air between us, hoping something else was there. but i knew he wore a cheeky grin beneath his mask. i frowned, slightly, a desperate disappointment laying just behind my eyes. my head shook just slightly, "don't."

vessel's shoulders fell. he nodded, just once, before silencing himself.

we walked to the bar in drowning silence. i wanted to stop, to turn to him and ask him a million questions. why didn’t he trust me? why didn’t he want me? why couldn’t we try?

why couldn’t we have met in another lifetime, where he didn’t feel the need to hide behind a mask? where he didn’t have to put his life on the line just to reveal himself to me?

not that would fix anything if he didn’t feel what i felt.

i needed a drink.

when we got to the bar, we got swept up in the excitement from our group, separated from each other. i was grateful for the space. it allowed me to breathe, allowed me to start getting wasted.

ii and iv shoved drink after drink into my hands. we pounded shots off of the wooden counter of the bar. we paid far too much for the shitty jukebox in the corner to play our favorite songs. ii even eventually drug me out to the make-shift dance floor, holding my free hand in his, guiding my hips with his other palm.

i clutched onto my vodka cran, following the rhythm ii was swinging in his hips. we danced to some usher song, sultry and silly. normally, i’d shove him away and cuss him out, make fun of him. but, the alcohol was starting to burn my throat, sending a soothingly loose feeling through my blood. i was relaxed.

the song slowed and we did with it. i rested my heavy body against his, chin on his shoulder. we danced in a circle. i could see vessel, sitting at the bar, burning a hole through ii's head with his eyes. he saw me looking at him and quickly looked away.

i just wanted to walk right up to him and kiss him, mask or no mask. i just wanted him. i didn’t care what he looked like. who he was. because i knew him- i knew him well. i knew when his favorite cat died, i knew that he dropped his sandwich in the first grade and cried on drive home. i knew he preferred tea over coffee, with two sugar cubes, and an exact glug of milk in it.

my mind was racing like crazy. i needed to ground myself or i’d do something i’d regret.

that’s when ii mumbled into my ear, “he wants you so badly.”

i jolted out of my own head space, pulling my chin back from ii’s shoulder to look up at him. “what?”

i was having trouble processing words.

“vess. he’s been pining after you for so long,” ii had a sense of urgency in his eyes. "and he think he's trying to see if he can shoot my head off with his eyes right now."

i peered over his shoulder. vessel was watching us again. he didn’t look away, though i knew he could see.

“fat chance,” i blurted out. “he keeps pushing me away…pining my ass. everytime we have, like, a really good conversations about, like, the stars or some shit, the next day he acts like he barely knows my name.”

ii was patient, just listening as i rambled, surely drunk now. i continued on, “i don’t know, dude. like, if he wanted me he would do something about it, yeah? he’d show me. he’d say something. he’d- he’d just do something. instead he just makes me feel crazy.”

i finished myself off with huff. i downed the rest of my drink and set it on a table close to us. both my fists leaned against ii’s shoulders. i was getting dizzy.

ii squeezed my hip in comfort. he waited a moment, for me to catch my breath, to respond. "it's difficult. being in our position. it's hard to tell who's getting close just to catch a peak. forcing everyone we care about to sign mountains of paperwork just to really know us. to trust that we can stay hidden, though the entire world is just itching to unmask us. i know you know that. i know you understand it. that’s part of the reason why we all get along with you so well. the pressures gone. we can be ourselves- no matter what our names are, what we look like. cause you just don’t care.

“i don’t!” i agreed, punching my fist lazily against ii’s shoulder. “i don’t care who you guys are! because you’re still the same to me. and i trust you. and i love you guys. and i just- but just, why can’t he want me?”

he chuckled, “oh, darling. he does. you know he does. and you know the risk, you know the worry. you push it away because it’s not going to be easy. put your pretty little head to rest. just…let it happen as it happens.”

“i think i’m too drunk to really understand this right now, babe,” i droned on, eyes squinted as if i could understand him better with a blurred gaze.

ii tapped my nose sweetly. he stepped back, glancing over to vessel. “just let it.”

i met vessel’s gaze- invisible to me, but so obvious from the burn on my skin. he stood from his seat, hesitant, yet somehow determined.

i felt my body pulled towards him. we met in the middle. some stupid country song was playing. the bad was emptying. our friends were loud. my breath smelled of alcohol. vessel seemed exhausted.

but, for some reason, this was the night that it would happen.

vessel held out a hand, skin pale yet still stained from the paint. i took it. he waited a moment, as if awaiting my consent. then he guided us to the backdoor of the bar. we were out in an alley, alone.

“i’m sorry, lovey,” he said, once he was settled on his heels in front of me.

i clutched his hand like an anchor. “for what?” my brows furrowed.

he brushed a thumb across my knuckles, “that it’s like this. i…i wish i could love you under different circumstances.”

the word passed by without a second thought, so easily spoken from his lips. i barely noticed it. “it’s okay…it’s-its not your fault, vess.”

“no, it’s just,” he ran his other hand overtop his hat, covering his hair just perfectly. “it’s just that i need you to know that. how i feel about you..” now he danced around the word, “because i need you to know that…but…i can’t go forward with any of it. i can’t follow through with it. and i’m so sorry. i just…can’t.”

i slid my hand up to his cheek. he nearly crumbled under my touch. my fingers touched the edge of his sunglasses. he didn’t move. he didn’t try to stop me as i slid the glasses off his nose. i knew those eyes well- i was grateful to see them, even in this dark lighting. i could read him better, i could see his soul.

“i’ll sign whatever you want me to sign.”

the words lingered between us as he processed them. then, he denied them, “lovey…i-“

“i’ll sign a million nda’s. i’ll sign away my life. i’ll- i’ll delete all of my social media. and i’ll wear a mask, too. i’ll step into the darkness with you, vess. i’d do it. i want to do it.”

“lovey, please, i can’t-“

“i can. if you can’t, i can. i can for the both of us.”

vessel dropped his chin, looking away from me. “i can’t ask you to do that for me. beside, you- you don’t even know what i look like. i’m- i’m probably not what you’d want. you can’t love someone you think is ugly. i don’t know, lovey.”

“i do know, vess,” i quickly replied. “i know. i know you. i know your soul. it doesn’t matter to me what you look like, or who you are. cause i know your heart. and that’s all that matters to me. besides, i can’t go on hiding- knowing that we love each other. i just can’t. i won’t allow it.”

vessel met my eyes again. he removed his hand from my own. his hand hung by his thigh, clenching into a fist. it shook. i was worried he’d walk away.

but, after his hesitation softened, he reached his hands up to his face. he tugged the medical mask off of his ears, revealing his familiar lips and smile to me. his nose was new, a feature i’d never seen. but, it was just a nose.

he took off his hat, too, revealing his entire complexion to me. i grinned in response, barely even getting a good luck at him because i really didn’t care.

“that changed nothing for me,” i grasped at his hands. “i feel the same. i feel- the same. maybe better, knowing that you trust me. but- the same. i still want you- i need you, vess…please. i know you need me, too. i’ve always seen it in your eyes. just…take a chance. come out of the darkness…for me. please.”

vessel slid his hands up my arms, slowly, brushing my hair over my shoulders as he passed. his fingertips tickled my neck, the lobes of my ears, until he cupped my cheeks. i leaned into his touch, eyes alight with abounding adoration. he tilted his head down, brilliantly colored eyes boring into my own.

and then he kissed me.

#sleep token #sleep token x reader #sleep token x you #vessel x reader #sleep token!vessel x reader #fluff

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chaifootsteps · 3 months ago

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i honestly feel like speaking of angel dust/vaggie being a toxic temu version of jax/ragatha, i also feel like pilot! angel was closer to how jax is in tadc. as in: a guy whos been there longer then most the rest of the main cast, and possesses certain abilities/advantages in the position they were "born" into when they manifested into a hell they cant ever escape from (as far as they know, and are so used to being there for so long that they dont care when the main character introduces a possible solution out of said hell,) and to entertain/distract themselves, messes with others that they view as beneath them, so they dont have to think about how horrible everything truly is, or risk being hurt by caring about others unjustified pain who are stuck in the same environment as them. theres just a lot in general i miss about pilot! angel dust's personality, sexual persona, reputation in hell, and personal hobbies outside of him being a pornstar that has not translated into the series whatsoever, and i doubt it ever will. i stopped feeling it ever would be when "my cousin and me" canonically became angels first porno he filmed with val. so i hope whenever theres a jax episode, it scratches at least little bit of that itch ive been missing since then. tadc isnt a show where the creator needs to go on twitter and tell you the series will be best enjoyed when all of the episodes are out, because goose trusts her audience to know theyre smart enough pick up on that fact without being told, and that the episodes will speak for themselves in quality when they drop. so heres to hoping! <3

Oh man, you're right! There are a lot of moments when you can kind of feel the ghost of pilot Angel Dust through Jax...that cool, silky confidence and snark with a trace of something deeply painful underneath.

Energy can never die, it just transfers and changes form.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #hazbin hotel critical #actual blog post #tadc

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jokingmisfit · 1 year ago

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For Love

Yandere Jeremiah x Reader

Prompt- “This IV itches.”

Prompt- “This medicine makes me feel so out of it.”

Warnings- Kidnapping, Drugging, Mentions of needles (IV), Cuddling, Implied Isolation

After a few weeks you were calmer, or maybe it was the medicine in your system. So much time left with your thoughts and not much else has left you lonely and tired. Despite having nothing to do you were exhausted. Propped up in a padded rocking chair, with a book, attached to an IV. Too bad your brain can’t keep up with the lines in the book because of the drugs.

You wish you could take the needle out, but the last time you made that mistake you were tied to a chair for several days. At this point you don’t want to fight anymore. You just want a bit more. More to do, more stimulation. You chastise yourself for those thoughts; giving in just because you're bored. An under simplification sure, but you were angry. The thought of giving him what he wants was upsetting.

But, things were getting harder. Whatever he was doing he was doing it right because you wouldn’t be able to ‘fight’ back much longer.

You only realize you were staring at the wall when the door opens.

“Hello, Darling. How are you feeling?” Jeremiah asks calmly. Eyes calculating; evaluating everything you are.

You glare at him lightly. “I feel like I’ve been kidnapped and drugged.” You say bitterly.

He glares back at your words. You knew he hated when you answered like that. You always give that answer and it never ends well. His glare made you feel uneasy because you knew what could follow.

You sigh again, looking down to avoid his gaze. “This IV itches.” You start. “This medicine makes me feel so out of it. And there's absolutely nothing in this room that’s actually interesting. I’m really tired and there is no reason to be because I’ve done nothing. I feel useless. Like I’m rotting…” You quickly explain your thoughts.

“I see.” He responds, simply, stepping closer.

Jeremiah reaches for your hand. He places his thumb over the spot the IV enters your veins. The light pressure relieves some of the discomfort you’ve been feeling. You kept your eyes on your hand as he watched you. He rose from his position, bent in front of you and looked at the bag over head.

“I’m trying to… understand… how I’m supposed to make you more… comfortable.” He states slowly.

“More comfortable or more willing.” You ask looking up at him.

Jeremiah's lips curled up. You had no idea whether it was to smile or snarl.

“Always so quick.” He said. “Give me a list of things you’d like. I’ll get them for you.” He offers.

“Can you stop whatever,” You pull loosely at the IV. “this is? Please.” You plead.

“No.” He replies. “Not yet.”

“When?” you question.

He laughs. “When you can be trusted, obviously.”

He cups your face with his hand. His thumb rubs your cheek. You watch him carefully. He may act kinder to you, but you’ve seen what he can do. You’ve witnessed his violence; his psychopathy.

Jeremiah stood abruptly. He offered his hand out to you, and you, hesitantly, took it. He helped you stand on your unstable legs. The both of you moved towards the bed.

The bed was cool and comfortable. Different from the padded chair. After so many hours in one spot changing your position felt nice. You still wanted to argue for more freedom, more movement, but you knew it would only cause you pain.

His cologne was surprisingly calming. His suit jacket abandoned earlier when he entered making it easier for him to wrap his arms around you. Jeremiah picked up a book of his own and began to read.

You laid in his arms silently for a few minutes. As tired as you were, your boredom held on tighter. As stubborn as you were, your boredom was louder.

You sighed a little before asking. “Can you read it to me?” You felt embarrassed, but you needed more than this.

A smile grows on Jeremiah's face at your question. “Of course, dear.” He responds.

As he reads you feel your eyelids droop. You feel disappointed in yourself, but he’s becoming one of the few things that can hold your interest. One of the few things to bring you comfort. It was twisted, but you were beginning to need him. A terrible fate but one you weren’t going to fight against much longer.

#jeremiah valeska x reader #jeremiah valeska #gotham #gotham x reader #valeska x reader #yandere jeremiah valeska #yandere jeremiah valeska x reader

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magnuspanoptes · 3 months ago

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do you have any book/media recs? i love your thoughts on jonelias and as a fan of it (and hannigram/hannibal nbc) im having a hard time finding stuff that scratches that itch 😩

waow what a question i certainly do not have letterboxd and book lists titled 'jonelias intertextuality recs'. never done that.

manhunter (1986) and the silence of the lambs (1991) or just read the thomas harris books.

functionally any bluebeared narrative where the supposedly ingénue gothic heroine masters the patriarch of the gothic manor works for jonelias so: jane eyre, charlotte brönte; rebecca, daphne du maurier (which is jane eyre if it was psychological horror); and phantom thread (2017) (which is rebecca if the second mrs de winter slayed)

deathless, catherynne m. valente which is the same dynamic as above and is also a death and the maiden story.

the bloody chamber, the tiger's bride, and the erl-king - all collected in the bloody chamber and other stories, angela carter

duke bluebeard's castle, béla bartók

candyman (1992) which is based on clive barker's the forbidden. je text of all time. like this is it. gothic romance where union with the lover is only possible through annihilation of the self because the violence is the romance.

ravenous (1999) has cannibalism as colonial expansion, which the podcast is also doing at times in its themes of consumption as power. jon and elias could naturally do boyd and ives.

amc interview with the vampire. loustat, hannigram, and jonelias are all the same ship dynamic about the dual gift/curse of being fated together with a really awful blonde man. i think this has some very smart writing re consumption and race wrt louis and lestat's relationship as black and white men/vampires during jim crow, and is also a thoughtful narrative of abuse which is set to end in a reconciliation, so pitching this as jonelias but if they were vampires feels reductive. but it's jonelias if they were vampires. if you've been here long enough you know i don't choose to differentiate between avatarhood and vampirism.

opening of dracula, bram stoker. jonathan harker trapped within dracula's castle is literally what happens to my guy jonathan sims in the podcast. speaking of which. nosferatu (2024) was kind of mid to me and my reading of it leaned more towards a csa narrative, but that can definitely co-exist with a romantic interpretation of orlok and ellen. didn't interest me very much but might work for you.

gone girl, gillian flynn and the 2014 fincher adaptation. jon will be amy in this scenario. you understand.

whiplash (2014). trust me.

rope (1948)

crimson peak (2015)

for a similar dynamic but with themes of incestuous enmeshment, see the winter prince, elizabeth wein and dead ringers (1988)

stoker (2013). this would be more of interest to someone who liked abigail and hannibal's relationship, not will and hannibal per se. but i did say i see teen!jon as abigail.

jonathan strange & mr norrell, susanna clarke is a very odd recommendation because it's not gothic, not horror, and not romance, it's a whimsical period fantasy piece. there's a lot more happening in this book but the two titular characters have a relationship founded on mutual academic respect which goes through bit of a schism because they subscribe to different schools of thought. exactly the kind of nerd shit i enjoy and strange & norrell's friendship is very dear to me, close to how i picture regency jonjonah.

didn't watch all of house of the dragon but daemon and rhaenyra over there came close to capturing how i feel about jon and elias. also incest. but i wouldn't recommend this unless you're already moderately into the a song of ice and fire books.

i've never read the phantom of the opera but given what i know through osmosis it has got to be the same type of thing.

the picture of dorian gray, oscar wilde - everyone says jonah is dorian gray coded but that's not right. jon as the corruptible gothic protagonist is the dorian here with elias assuming the role of both basil and lord henry.

annihilation, jeff vandermeer, nothing in this is jonelias adjacent, it's just really good cosmic horror and what happens to the biologist is what should've also happened to jon.

#jonelias #asks

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sapphicflower-ao3 · 8 months ago

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what are ur personal favorite fics? i can be a bit picky and have a hard time finding fics but i love ur writing and i feel like we might have similar tastes based on that :3

i'm sorry it took me like a week to get to this!! i wanted to compile my faves and write notes for each of them... and i went overboard LOL. but thanks so much omg, i'm flattered that you would trust my taste based on my writing!

these are all bkdk obviously :)

i. 'In Case of Fire' - passengerside

post-canon // complete // 11K // E

an absolute MASTERPIECE!!! this author has become a recent favourite of mine, i love the way they incorporate little details into their work and make the mundane so beautiful.

highly recommend all of their other works, especially 'Pacemaker'! so freaking beautiful and fun and the lead up to the confession was a genuine holding-my-breath moment

ii. 'Sun Hands' - yesthisisnarumi

snowboarding AU // complete // 5K // T

i've re-read this one so many times it's SOOOOO good! so fun and so classically bkdk it's insane. everybody say thank you OP for giving us the rival olympic champions to lovers story we needed

iii. 'all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing' - maxisnotokay

UA compliant // complete // 11K // T

i dont usually read a lot of whump but this was brilliant, im a sucker for this specific trope and for LOVE CONFESSIONS YEASS!!! obvi it has a happy ending bc i wouldnt have it any other way. a good length too :)

iv. 'Spinnin' On Our Feet' - sage_and_cinnamon

High School AU // ongoing // 47K // M

UNDERRATED AS FUCK and my favourite ongoing fic right now. i usually dont read jock x nerd AUs but this fic is so brilliantly funny and charming and heartwarming and it blew all my expectations out of the water and then some. i've been following it for ages and it's been on hiatus for a good while, but it updated recently and when i tell you it was the best day of my freaking life...

v. 'In Perfect Rhythm' - chalk

Band AU // complete // 50K // E

yes how surprising, a band AU fic in my faves list. anyway shut up, chalk is literally godlike in their writing and this fic was SO FUN and scratched all the itches. nothing gets me going more than awkwardly endearing izuku n rockstar katsuki

vi. 'Last Days of War' - antisora

Pacific Rim AU // complete // 44K // M

GENUINELY ONE OF HUMANITY'S BEST PIECES OF LITERATURE???? fuck. i never have the proper words for this fic, but it is SO gripping and the worldbuilding is so tight and their relationship development is so good and the CLIMAX OF THIS HAS BEEN MORE EPIC THAN HALF THE BLOCKBUSTERS I'VE SEEN. i beg you to read this even if you have never watched Pacific Rim. or maybe go watch the movie and get EDUCATED and then read this! i'm begging you, dear reader!!

vii. 'Ingenium' - crandberrycrush

Astronauts AU // complete // 85K // E

guys i love sci-fi sorry lol. this one is another brilliant fic. OP put so much blood, sweat and tears into research and it shows, it is just very intelligent and the plot itself is HEART RACING and GUTTING and THRILLING. there's a lot of POVs and it really fleshes it out, tho ofc bkdk is the main thing. happy ending obvi! it is the space/astronaut drama that i love and adore, just BKDKified now!

viii. 'The Magic in a Mirror' - totallyrottentomatoes

Magic/Circus AU // complete // 80K // E

oh how surprising, a totallyrottentomaoes fic in my faves list. anyone who knows me knows that i rec this fic all the time. it's one of my all time favourites, if not my favourite of all time lol, and it's really because of the writing and the imagery and the characterisation and the relationships b/w all the characters. it's all just so well done and MAGICAL. no joke, if i could print and bind a fic into a book, it would be this one. no notes. perfection. caters to my tastes so specifically. i could go on about this fic forever but i'll shut up for now

also highly recommend 'The Distance Between Suns' by this author - it's a high fantasy epic with TIGHT AS FUCK worldbuilding, brilliantly written, the romance is BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN, the payoffs are amazing, etc... this deserves to be published and revered

ix. 'Battle of the Bands' - roadtripwithlucifer

Band AU // complete // 168K // E

look i know i always rec this fic, i just can't help that it's like my favourite thing ever. roadtripwithlucifer and totallyrottentomatoes my BELOVEDS. the humour in this fic is so fucking yummy and brilliant, the writing is gorgeous in typical roadtrip fashion, the stakes are gripping, the climax is thrilling, the romance n yearning is INTENSE, the sex is hot as hell, the ending is so satisfying, just..... the whole package.

and while you're here, read other roadtripwithlucifer works like 'Nothing Else Fills' if you feel like destroying your heart :) an angsty and beautifully written time-travel-to-save-my-kacchan-gone-wrong war AU fic. i love OP's works but her more recent fics (eg. after battle of the bands) have had some of her best writing. i adore it when you can feel how an author has poured their soul into their work, you can always feel it in a roadtripwithlucifer work and it's just the cherry on top

x. 'Scar Tissue' - Loriqod

canon-compliant // complete // 18K // E

loriqod is another author with a characterisation that i fuck with so hard... this one was so full of that Yearning and Tension that i so vibe with. bonus points to the plots focus on bkdk's scars like yes pls more of that <3

anyway i might make a part 2 some other time, these are just the ones i grabbed from my public bookmarks. i have a lot of private ones and some of them i forgot to make public oops

hope u find smth u enjoy!

#rani’s ask box #phew this took longer than i anticipated to put together #need to re-read some of these now tbh #especially last days of war and ingenium #sci fi bkdk youll always be famous to meeee #bkdk fic rec

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areyoufuckingcrazy · 2 months ago

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“Hit Me (Like You Mean It)”

Commander Wolffe xBounty Hunter!Reader

⸻

The cantina on Vradros IV reeked of sweat, desperation, and synth-spice. Which is to say, it smelled exactly like a place Wolffe would pick for a “quiet recon op.”

You leaned against the bar, twirling your drink with one hand, your blaster slung low on your hip like a challenge. You felt him before you saw him—Commander Wolffe moved like a ghost in armor, all steel and unspoken tension.

“You missed our meeting,” he said, voice low and gruff behind that half-scorched vocabulator.

You smirked. “I was busy. Didn’t realize I needed your permission to have a life.”

“You don’t.” He paused. “Just seems like yours always conveniently conflicts with mine.”

You turned, sipping your drink lazily. “Aw. You miss me, Commander?”

Wolffe didn’t flinch, but the corner of his mouth twitched like it wanted to. “You’re a pain in my shebs.”

“And yet,” you drawled, “here you are.”

He looked tired. No—past tired. He looked hollowed out, like someone who’d been running on fumes since the war ended, and no one remembered to tell him he could stop.

You tilted your head. “You sleep at all?”

“Enough.”

“Eat?”

“When I remember.”

“Touch anyone lately?”

That got his attention.

His gaze flicked to yours, sharp and startled—but not offended. Never offended. Not with you.

“That’s a hell of a question.”

You shrugged. “It’s a hell of a galaxy.”

He was quiet for a beat, jaw tight.

Then, out of nowhere, he said, “You gonna hit me, or just keep talking?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He stepped closer, chest brushing yours. “You’ve been itching for a fight since I walked in.”

“No, you’ve been begging for one.” You looked him up and down. “Why?”

“Maybe I deserve it.”

“Oh, don’t get all martyr on me, Commander.” You narrowed your eyes. “What’s really going on?”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at you, every inch of him coiled and unreadable.

And then he said, almost too quiet: “I just want to feel something.”

Ah.

There it was.

The crack in the armor.

Not in his phrasing—Wolffe would never be that direct—but in the weight behind the words. You’d seen it before. In soldiers who lost brothers. In children who never got hugged enough. In yourself, sometimes, when the nights were long and the stars too loud.

“Fine,” you said, stepping in close. “You wanna get hit?”

He nodded once, stiff.

You swung. Not hard—but enough to snap his head to the side.

The cantina didn’t even blink. No one cared. It was that kind of place.

Wolffe exhaled, slow and shaky. Turned his head back toward you.

And smiled.

A real one. Lopsided. Crooked. Full of pain and something almost like relief.

You grabbed the front of his armor and pulled him down to your level. “Next time you need to be touched, maybe try asking, instead of playing wounded karking bantha.”

He leaned in, voice rough. “Would you say yes?”

You kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet.

It was raw. Like striking flint to stone.

His hands came to your waist, holding on like he didn’t trust the ground to stay solid. You felt the tremor in him—not fear. Not hesitation. Just need.

You pulled back, just enough to murmur against his mouth: “Touch-starved bastard.”

He looked at you like you’d reached inside him and flipped a switch he forgot existed. “I deserved that punch.”

“You’ll deserve the next one too.”

He smirked. “Looking forward to it.”

⸻

#clone trooper x reader #clone wars #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars the clone wars #order 66 #the clone wars headcanons #clone x reader #tcw wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #commander wolffe fluff #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #tbb wolffe #wolffe x reader #the clone wars x reader

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captainstressed · 4 months ago

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so ive been working on a post-breakup bucktommy fix it for a hot minute and she's almost finished so i wanted to share the first chapter here before i put the entire thing on ao3.

its starts from the 'tommy's bubbling me' scene from 8x07 except its from tommy's pov. its mostly hurt but i swear the comfort is coming!

title: i love you, im sorry. word count: 1341 chapter: 1 of 2/3

Tommy hit backspace, deleting the drafted text he’d written to Evan with a sigh. Dropping his phone beside him on the couch, he reached out to grab the open bottle of beer from the coffee table and took a long swig. It wasn’t far off three in the afternoon but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to particularly care; he’d come off shift within the last hour and wasn’t scheduled back in until the next day, it also wasn’t as though he was planning to have more than one or two. He needed a distraction, something to temporarily cloud his mind that wasn’t Evan. Buck. He’d lost the right to use his given name the day he walked out of his loft.

It had been just over two weeks since the break up; fifteen days if he was counting, which he was. He had ran the conversation over in his mind an infinite number of times since then and each time he hated himself a little bit more.

“Did you just break up with me?”

“Yeah. I guess I did.”

He slammed the bottle back down on the table with more force than necessary. He was a fucking coward. He’d been a coward back when he was at the 118 and he failed to stand up for Hen and Howie against Gerrard; Tommy had been battling his own internal demons but that didn’t excuse his behaviour then and it sure as hell doesn’t now.

He had told Buck that if they ended up moving in together, then the younger man would end up breaking his heart; something that he wasn’t sure he would be able to move on from. The irony of it all was that through his own cowardice actions, Tommy had beat him to it and succeeded in breaking it all by himself.

Bringing his hands up, he pressed the heals of his palms into his eyes. He felt the sting of tears and took a breath, willing them to remain at bay. He had no right to cry, not when this was all his fault. He had broken up with Buck; had panicked at the thought of moving in with him. Not because he didn’t want to, but because when his heart was inevitably broken, the fallout would have been too much for him to fathom.

Tommy wondered if this imaginary scenario would have left him feeling anything like the way he felt right now. His palms were wet, the stars dancing behind his eyes the only outcome of his efforts. Swiping the tears that were only replaced by more a moment later, he wiped his hands across his jean clad thighs and tipped his head back against the back of his couch.

His fingers itched to grab his phone; he wanted to call Buck, apologise for being such a coward, for joining the list of people who had walked away from him and beg him for another chance. It was selfish, he was selfish.

He didn’t deserve Buck; Hadn’t been deserving of being his first relationship since discovering his true identity. Buck had trusted him, had let Tommy in. The two of them shared words and experiences that were completely new to Buck and it made Tommy feel sick that he had taken these things from him, with the promise of protecting them and him only to run when his own insecurities got in the way.

Curling his hand into a fist, he bought it down on the cushion beside him. The movement jostled his phone and lit up his home screen; his background was a picture of an LA sunrise, which to anyone else wouldn’t seem particularly special but to Tommy it held precious memory.

It had been taken a few months prior during one of his early morning runs, by Evan. Tommy had mentioned to him that one of his go to’s for winding down after particularly gruelling shifts was to hit one of the many hiking trails and if he was lucky enough to finish a shift before the day had officially started, then he could sometimes catch the sunrise. It was a way to remind himself that in spite of the often tragic calls he dealt with whilst at work, a new day was just on the horizon and with it the renewal of hope and possibility of brighter times to come.

He’d thought the idea was beautiful and asked if he could accompany Tommy sometime should their shifts lineup. They ended up going one morning after Tommy had finished a forty-eight and Evan was due to start his own a few hours later. They’d found a perfect spot to watch the sunrise and paused their run to drink it in. Evan had taken a picture just as the sun was peaking over the horizon, setting it as his phone background and almost shyly explaining to Tommy that this way whenever he looked at his phone it would remind him of not only the reason behind it but also of Tommy.

It had been one of the many times in which Tommy had wondered how he got so lucky as to find someone as adorable as Evan. He’d even asked him as much, which earned him a blushed smile that Tommy couldn’t help but kiss off his lips. Before asking him to send him a copy of the photo and setting it as his own background too.

Tommy could have changed it in weeks since the break up, probably should have done if he’d had any desire to move on. He wondered if Evan had changed his; selfishly he hoped he hadn’t.

He stared at his phone until the screen went back to black, mulling over his scattered thoughts before picking it up and unlocking it. It reopened back onto his text thread with Evan, they hadn’t spoken to each other via text since Howie’s wedding and the memories of that day and night settled heavily in the pit of his stomach when he compared how he had felt then to how he felt now.

His thumb hovered over the bubble to start a new message; Tommy knew what he wanted to say, what he’d wanted to tell Evan even before they broke up. He had never called his own feelings towards Evan into question, self hatred threatened to bubble to the surface once more when he reminded himself that the only person he had called into question was Evan himself.

Evan who had never been anything but open and honest with Tommy from the start of their relationship. Sure, he’d put his foot in his mouth a few times at the start and sometimes he got a little ahead of himself, but it was one of the many things Tommy loved about him.

Tommy loved him. Loves him.

But he let him go because he’s a coward.

With a sigh, he tapped the bubble to send a new message but paused. After weeks of radio silence Tommy knew it wouldn’t be fair to drops these heavy feelings on Evan straight away. If at all a voice in his head snarked. What if he was too late? What if Tommy ending things had been the wake up call Evan needed to realise that though Tommy had been his first, he didn’t want him to be his last and these last weeks had just helped cement those feelings.

The thought caused him physical pain. His entire reasoning behind breaking up with Evan in the first place had been to shield his heart from inevitable break, but it had quickly become apparent that he was destined for this fate regardless. He couldn’t allow himself to consider that Evan loved him back. He hadn’t deserved it before the break up and he sure as hell didn’t now. The difference now however was that he felt as though he had nothing else to lose, and he owed Evan the truth no matter what the outcome may be.

Fuck it.

“Can we talk?”

Tommy held his breath and hit send.

#my first 911 fic attempt so please be kind #bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 abc #fanfic #tevan fic

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