#look at these twinks down horrendous | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roobgumball95 · 2 years ago

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the thranto regency au is like. okay so thrawn has no interest in marriage and even less in politics and is being pressured by his family to find a match and he agrees to join the social scene in london in order to get them off his back so he can peruse his passions: being courtmarshalled every five minutes for being a wildcard in the napoleonic wars and flagrantly ignoring british naval policy. his family wants a match bc they think it will be a calming influence and perhaps keep him home more and like. out of the newspapers and such, so thrawn agrees to skulk around various london social events looking at rich people’s art and avoiding conversation

meanwhile eli’s family just came into a surprising amount of money and has hung all their hopes of solidifying their standing on him making an advantageous match, so he’s been attending every dance at their behest but hates everybodyyyyyyyy bc they look down on his accent (i was going to make him irish bc rich english people would look down on him/that accent in regency times but i can’t bear to make him not a cowboy) and are super snide and self motivated so he doesn’t want to marry any of them.

ENTER: thrawn, who is a little weird and likes to ask him all kinds of annoying questions but is at least not rude or cruel, and hey, maybe if thrawn and him pretend to be courting, people will leave eli alone and he can get enough distance from his family to do things like travel! and math! thrawn meanwhile is like. i showed this twink one page of nightswan’s (who is french in this bc that’s funny) shipping manifesto and he figured out exactly where they been stealing ammunition from and in what quantities. i’m keeping him.

anyways this is waaaaay to long but tldr thrawn and eli regency fake dating ends with them falling in love for realsies and eli running off with thrawn to live a life of adventure on the open sea and also be there as emotional support when thrawn gets his tenth court martial and ar’alani and bakif put their heads in their hands

i’m assuming this is in reference to this post, which is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on (also, did you mean to be on anon? tragic)

all i can say is agreed. the inherent homoeroticism in being a little weird in regency times is just *chef’s kiss* thrawn’s gifting. them being social outcasts will always be MY SHIT.

i just know the fucking dancing would be horrendous because thrawn hates it and eli barely knows how to do it so they just awkwardly copy other people’s movements. also ar’alani and bakif being like “what do you have?” “a fake courtship!” “NO—” (although they prefer SHIP over MARTIAL)

#anyway thank you anon🙈#roob’s inbox #thranto #star wars #thranto my beloved

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lightyaoigami · 2 years ago

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light for the ask meme >:3

SAY LESS i can talk about my baby all day!!!

1: sexuality headcanon: i think he's gay & possibly demisexual too - when i was a young sprout first watching the anime i referred to him as L-sexual lmao. tbh i think that he is a fascinating character through a queer lens and kind of dull without that.

2: otp: lawlight idc idc the ship sails itself and makes me foam at the mouth

3: brotp: i love light and ryuk together. it's like ryuk has an incredibly reprehensible pet that he enjoys looking at. like having a venus fly trap. light is actually audrey 2.

4: notp: moonriver. sorry guys!!

5: first headcanon that pops into my head: i know i have told you specifically this 1000000 times but light has no rizz and is Not Good at sex

6: favorite line from this character: yOu GoT iT rYuZaKi LeTs CaTcH kIrA tOgEtHeR. what a simp.

7: one way in which I relate to this character: down horrendous for L, very particular and a tightwad about many things.

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: his fucking outfits. if i were a hot tennis twink i would not dress like such a dweeb. also his performances of heterosexuality are just the worst, he isn't committed to the bit in the slightest and its deeply cringe.

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave? the MOST problematic fave baby!!!! he's great because he is the WORST!!!!!

send me a character

#ask meme #kenway

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weresasquatch · 4 years ago

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So when I turned back to you, you were already sniffing the poppers. “Dude!” I whispered, in indignation. “What the fuck?” You just smirked at me, like you knew what it was about, even though I had no idea what was going on. You drank your cocktail in one sip, and just kept smirking. My foot was no longer pushing against your groin anymore, not since I had turned around, but I just knew you were still hard. That regard of complicity in you, it made me shiver, for a moment. You gave me the bottle so I could read the label. It just said “sniff me” in big black letters, like some kind of porno Alice in Wonderland parody featuring anal sex. I noticed, then, you started sweating. Your skin glistened under the restaurant’s warm light, and you seemed odd. Like you weren’t comfortable inside your own skin, you seemed to be containing some kind of struggle within yourself. I saw a drop of sweat fall down your temple, from beneath the coils at the top of your hair, down into your faded undercut, and then just down your cheek.

That’s when I felt your knees bump against mine. Just like that, the solid pressure of your knees against mine, and then surrounding my legs. You smirked, and cursed, and looked everywhere around for some reason I couldn’t fathom at that point. I heard the stretching sounds of your clothes, your already wide shoulders becoming even wider, and the sleeves of your shirt struggling to contain your swelling muscles. I saw your feet beside me, down below, your shoes could barely contain your feet and I thought you might be in pain, but you didn’t express it. Then, with a loud rip, the shoes just burst, and I saw your toes emerge from the broken leather, and the mouth of your shoe stretched around your ankle, unable to withstand its growing girth. When I looked up again, away from your growing legs, I realised you were much taller than before. All that sweating must’ve made you thirsty, because you went to lift your glass of water, and when you did, your sleeve just ripped at the seams, it just… exploded. It would’ve been hilarious, if it hadn’t been so hot. You just watched it, eyes wide open, fall onto the table. All I could look at, at that point, was your bulging bicep, perhaps as big as my own head. I was so entranced by it, so completely taken by that peaking muscle… Something hit me right in the face, and it awakened me from my trance. I looked down on my plate and saw it was a button, from your shirt, that had come out flying like a projectile. Inevitably, I looked at your shirt: your chest had grown so huge, so powerful, the buttons had become completely useless, a joke. Another button shot out from your shirt, and hit my right in the chest. “Restroom,” you said. You pushed your chair back and it creaked with a horrendous sound, as if it were on the verge of breaking. You were careful enough not to push the table into me, which I appreciated, and I still do. Then you stomped towards the restrooms, with your shirt torn at the seams, sleeveless now and, on your back, a huge rip, like a trench, that had opened all across it, vertically. Your pants were in a similar state, the two legs shredded to strips that hung from your waist. As for your shoes, they were barely there anymore, your feet had completely destroyed them, and they were in the process of tearing your socks apart next. Everyone was looking at me, after that happened. You had stormed out and they were left looking at me, but they weren’t surprised, or scared, they were just… annoyed. Like they disapproved of what had just happened. I remember I wanted to shout to all of them “fuck off!” but I didn’t. The two twinks on the other table just looked at me with furrowed eyebrows, like I was somehow guilty or making a scene. “Cunts,” I said. So I went after you. I got into the restroom and saw there were four stalls. I could hear you moan and grunt, like some sort of wild animal, a beast unleashed all of a sudden. I approached the stall you were in and I asked: “Hey, Rick, you alright?” “F-FUCK, Laz… Laz, I’m growing... “ your voice sounded so deep, so manly, even manlier than it already is. “I’m fucking growing!” “Dude, calm down, please, I…” At the time I was a bit desperate, but I have to admit it was also so hot. I needed to see it, I wanted to see it. So I kind of just… Dropped down to all fours, and watched under the stall. I could see your feet against the floor, and right then I saw what was left of your shoes at the heels just burst into pieces, while your socks had stretched so thin they looked like onion skin, and they were drenched in sweat. The whole stall smelled of your musk, probably the whole bathroom too. You turned around and kicked the stall door down. It flew right above me and hit against the other side of the restroom, shattering a mirror and falling on the floor with a loud series of thuds, like a coin ebbs. And so there I was, at your feet, still on all fours. I swear, you had to be at least seven feet tall, and your muscular figure was tremendous, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before in my life. You towered above me like a Greek god from myth, your muscles ballooning with power and strength, your skin glistening with beads of sweat. You then squatted down, and your pants simply ripped into pieces until you were only in your underwear, which revealed the outline of your godly cock under the strained fabric, its meat hard as rock and so gargantuanly big that the tip reached your hip. Below it, I saw your balls were about to make the fabric burst with their weight, like two massive oranges, or even bigger. In your hand, you still had the bottle of poppers, and it was so fucking tiny, even smaller than your thumb. “Laz… You gotta do it…” you said, and the husky tone in your voice almost made me cum all by itself… So I did it, I took the bottle in my hand, and when I felt your skin on mine it was as though it burned. The heat coming from your body was intense, and so was your musk. Not a stink, but an intense scent that screamed with the musky power of man. As if it had grown more intense and manlier, the more your muscles grew. I raised the bottle to my nose and sniffed. I remember the feeling then, a heat traversing my entire body, a heat so… so hot, like scalding coffee down my throat but instead just going down my nose, reaching my lungs, and then down my spine and then filling every limb, as though my body had been empty inside, and suddenly that heat had filled it. You smiled, then. You smirked, when you saw me squirm like I did. I began to sweat, just like you, my clothes started to get drenched. “Sniff it more.” And I obeyed.

#story #footgrowth #bigfeet #bigfoot #maletf #growth #muscleinflation #sizeincrease

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atxlxs · 3 years ago

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Beyond The Veil: Chapter 5

The assessment test was pretty consistent.

Those that had the quirks suited for it at first glance had dominated while the rest all seemed to get variations of the same base score. Some slightly better, some slightly worse. This made it pretty easy for Muska to just, consistently get good scores.

When your quirk, *cough* and other things *cough*, essentially affects anything and everything as long as the energy itself isn’t being used by something else it becomes easy to just enhance everything.

Ball throw? More like sniper propulsion. Long jump? Ha, more like flying to the opposite side. Grip strength? She doesn’t even need to touch it. Just contract the energy surrounding the mechanism. Flexibility? She used to do ballet, like, a century ago but muscle memory counts.

She had some tests she couldn’t do well, like the endurance test. She was here to train her quirk after all. Plus the longer the tests went on the harder it was to continue. If she continued at the level she was doing, she’d have one hell of a headache. It was starting to hurt as well. Every time she tried to go over her limits, using the energy actually hurt so she’d rather avoid that.

By the end of it all, Muska had placed a solid 3rd place. Beating out Robocop and PomPom (Bakugo), looking down the list with curiosity, Muska cringed at Midoriya taking last place. The kid definitely couldn’t regulate the energy belonging to his quirk, which felt really weird whenever Muska looked into it, and had broken his finger on the ball throw. However, what she didn’t expect was the feeling of mirth coming off of Aizawa.

Wait a damn minute.

The fucker wouldn’t.

“It was a logical ruse to make you all perform at your best capabilities.”

The fucker did.

Now, even as the class started shouting once more that evening, Muska was highly focused on the man in front of her. That was a lie. He lied about it being a ruse. The energy had fluctuated just slightly when he said ruse, going from mirth to a hazy feeling. The indescribable experience one goes through when they white lie or bluff.

He was going to expel the person who came in last. Something changed that though. What the fu- Oh. Ooooh.

“...If you won’t take this seriously as the hero in training students you are…”

The bastard was judging our potential and disguised it as an assessment!

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

Rat-man hadn’t given Muska a map, either expecting her to ask someone to help or look at the map and guess. She would do neither. Asking for help would warn them beforehand and she might be waved off considering it was a staff meeting. Secondly, she just doesn’t want to.

Instead of her quirk, Muska closed her eyes and felt around the harmony. Surprisingly, the school was ‘clean’ for the most part. A few dark patches here and there but nothing horrendous. That was when she noticed it. A room towards the top of the fourth tower, left side in the back away from the gate, was filled with several aged energies. One of which seemed to be escaping slowly towards something else. That was weird, but definitely where she needed to be.

It took 10 minutes of dedication to get to the tower needed, and 10 more to not stab the principal on sight after she got up the stairs and walked over to a steel door that had a key code. Disregarding the key code box since she definitely didn’t know said code, she decided that knocking in the tune to “Crab Rave” was a good alternative.

The door opened before the first verse was done to a very confused woman in spandex. Giving her a smile, it definitely had an annoyed flair to it since she could be at home and forcing Eras to be cooking right now, Muska slipped past her and into the meeting room. The Rat-man stood on the large table, surrounded by pro hero’s (based on the flashy getups…. Is that a horse gas mask?) and seemed to be in the middle of something. A beat of silence followed as Muska walked over to an empty chair near the front, it looked to be Nedzu’s but the short rat-man didn’t need it, and sat down. Pulling out her phone and starting to scroll through Tiktok. It was an old app but it stayed strong through the years and was still running.

“Uh, whatsa youngin like ya doin here?” Horse gas mask man asked. The heroes all subtly nodded along, too shocked by her nonchalant actions about crashing a very obvious faculty meeting.

Muska’a face twisted into a small frown as she turned her attention up to see the man. Aizawa, who she just now noticed was sitting at the back corner of the table, was just glaring down at Nedzu. Smart move and he was right.

“First of all, don’t call me youngin, I can guarantee I'm older than you. Second of all, ask Remy the rat here for that info.” Muska stated, about to return to her phone before perking up again and continued, “Also rat-man, if you want answered questions they better be done before 5, I have pasta being cooked by a glorified 5 star chef waiting at home.”

Several heroes choked, Aizawa hid a snort into his scarf, at her words. Nedzu, the fiend, just smiled wider.

“Of course!” The chimera chirped.

Yes chirped, maybe he had some bird DNA mixed in?

“I wouldn’t want to keep you too long! Faculty, this is Viridis Muska, Viridis, these are the pro heroes on staff that I trust to keep their mouths shut under oath of an NDA! Your guardian was kind enough to email it over to me this afternoon.”

Muska snorted at that. “Yea sounds like her.” Placing her phone face up on the table next to her, she tapped on the table expectantly as the Rat took his sign to continue.

“The most obvious question should probably be first and I know my dear staff are confused, what did you mean by you being older?”

It was an innocent question, she’ll answer it.

“Why Remy, that's cause unless Humanity has managed to surpass their expected due date of at max 120 years, then I am very much so older.”

The room was filled with confusion. It radiated off them in waves as distress rose at getting such vague answers. Aizawa in the corner sighed and snapped his gaze from the rat to her.

“I’m sure what the rat meant to ask was how old are you exactly and how did you reach that age.” Aizawa stated. Clear and concise.

“Of course, if I remember correctly I should be turning 267 this year,” she said, not pausing even when coffee was spat all over the table from a few of the people around the room, “and I was born a human, however upon entry into the veil and my chosen profession as a witch, I was changed. Reaching the height of my craft has allowed me to unlock certain aspects of my being, immortalizing my body for now. I’m still technically in my ‘teen’ years considering the average witch you’ll meet has passed a thousand years in some capacity.”

Aizawa ran a hand down his face in exasperation and a quiet mumble of “fucking problem ch- witch” escaped. A few other heroes were pale, and the spandex woman looked very intrigued. A twink with blond hair that had the weird energy actually coughed up blood. Muska’s gaze snapped to him at that. The need to heal over writing her focus for a moment before Nedzu cleared his throat for attention again.

Reluctantly she returned her gaze to the rat. If she didn’t know any better she would have thought he was undisturbed. She did, however, know better. The rat was practically vibrating where he stood in excitement.

“Viridis, do you think you could give us a basic rundown of the veil?” Nedzu quizzed, looking more and more like the sadistic researcher he was. Fuck, He's just like the elves.

Muska leaned back and sighed. She expected this and went over it with eras last night. They came up with what could, or couldn’t be talked about for the beginning until they were all deemed trustworthy.

“I can give you a short, very short compared to all the details of the veil, summary but frankly the veil doesn’t want certain info getting into certain hands.” She said, voice cold and steely. She would not be taking a no for this.

“I understand! Anything you can trust us with for now would help the mystery that has been plaguing me for years.” Nedzu said, which caused Muska to cackle a bit.

“I know, the… reps of certain races and collectives have placed bets on when and who would slip and give you the info at some point.” watching with amusement as Nedzu’s whiskers twitched, she sighed and leaned forwards. Pointing a finger at the white board behind her.

Nedzu, who of course understood exactly what that meant, nodded.

Muska stood up and grabbed three markers. One black, one green, and one red. Taking the black marker, she drew a large circle and wrote ‘The Veil’ above it. Uncapping the green marker, Muska spoke up as she marked off sections in the circle with black and labeled them in green.

“In the veil there are set collections and races. I, as a witch, belong to the group called Magia.” Magia was written in a section taking up a 5th of the circle, “It's a collective that represents those who follow magically tied professions, no matter the race you are, since once you become a part of what defines the Magia you are assigned this section. Of course like nations there is also dual representation. However, that's more complicated and this is the short version.”

A quick glance told Muska that everyone in the room was listening with rapt attention. Especially Aizawa and Nedzu, one more concealed than the other.

“Next is the elvish. Yes, elves, and yes, they are very pretentious. The younger ones are more lax and ready for mischief, but the elders tend to be stuck in their ways or research. God the research they do. They’re called the scholars of the abyss. Do you need to know something? Ask an elf. They write and read practically everything there is to write and read.” Another section gets cut off and labeled.

“Then there's the dwarves, oh and I’m listing these in population order as is the sectioning. The more people the bigger the section and so on. I’ll get to influence later. Back to dwarves. They aren’t all blacksmiths as myth leads you to believe but they do make the best weaponry and armor. You can find quite a few in engineering professions. A lot find jobs in mixology and brewing as well.” Another section. So far all are labeled with green.

“Next is the Vampires. These guys are incredibly important in the veil since they were the first members of it. Treated the closest to monsters, they had to run away from society's view earlier than loved races like elves and dwarves. Hell, even witches had some supporters when Halloween started to become a festive rather than a lore holiday. If you want to truly know about the veil? Then ask a vampire. They have every secret tucked away and safe guarded by their Origins.” Muska said, a small mischievous smirk was hidden as they faced the board. The energy shift in Nedzu told her the first time he met Eras would be cathartic considering it's her quirk registry game that led her here.

“Next is a much smaller group called the Fae. They are everything you’ve read and more. Do not engage with them until you’ve gone through Celtic mythology. You’ll become moss like that. I fuckin hate the imps sometimes.”

“In a more general group are the smallest numbers. Collectively known as the ‘inbetween’ these members range from the sirens in the waters to the spirits that haunt the earth and fuel the energy. Demons fall under here too but they rarely visit earth and always do so under contract so they don’t have much of a voice. Dragon descendants too, the last of the actual dragons died thousands of years ago but their blood lines are in half dragons. They have wings on some, horns and scales on others, but all carry the boiling blood of their predecessors.”

Muska took a deep breath after labeling one of the last spaces with green. Capping it, she uncapped the red and wrote a bold ‘FORGOTTEN’ in the smallest space. Turning around she dropped all smiles and pleasantries. Voice harsh and cold as she spoke venom with every word.

“Never, ever, look for those in the forgotten. They do not have representation but they are known and branded. A red circle with a line in the middle along with text that only certain people can read is their symbol and it's burned into their skin. The forgotten are the, essentially, criminals of the veil. The veil is filled with people of dubious legalities to humans but there is a special place to rot for those that cross veil taboos. Whether it’s a necromancer practicing on those that are alive, or a vampire who has gone blood crazy and slipped into the view of humans as food. Elves committing experimentation on live creatures for research or sirens drowning sailors into the ocean out of amusement. These are all examples of forgottens who get branded soon after they are recognized.”

The air seemed stale as Muska ran her glare over the heroes present. Even Nedzu shuddered as the energy in the room seemed to freeze and burn those that took too deep of a breath despite not actually happening.

The heroes nodded once they realized she was looking for a response and her gaze softened but still held a serious edge to it.

“The brands are placed by chosen representatives of the race where the forgotten came from. The representative is chosen by a council meeting between the heads of each race, the heads themselves are chosen by vote or position within the race and the job is carried out within 24 hours of discovery.”

Speaking of the representatives of races,

“Any questions before I head home for my fuckin pasta?”

(She just really wants her pasta)

Tags:

@baguettehead

#bnha #mha #mhafanfic #bnhafanfic #mha oc #au

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laurasfox-originals · 3 years ago

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Taming A Jerk - Ch. 1 excerpt (Box Shaped Heart Side Story, Patreon Exclusive)

Author's note: This is the story of Alex's second chance at love and being a decent person :)

Ch. 1 - excerpt

Chapter One - The In-Between

Were dreams supposed to be this vivid? Alex struggled against his heavy eyelids. And why on earth was he dreaming about his mother above all else he could dream of? It wasn’t particularly entertaining. Oh, he was in it, as well. And he had to be around five years old, or six.

“Mom,” dream Alex moaned while dragging his blankie after him.

It was a bad dream if he had to remember such an ugly blanket. The pattern was horrendous. What could have his mother been thinking at that time? Otherwise, the woman had always had perfect taste in everything, down to napkins and toothpicks. Oh, his mother hadn’t picked that. It had been his nana, a woman of uncertain age, called Rose.

“Mo-ther. How many times do I have to tell you, Alex? Address me correctly. We are not some poor people living on welfare. So, repeat after me. Mo-ther,” the woman insisted while making the last retouches to her flawless makeup.

Five or six-year-old Alex could not appreciate his mother’s choice of war paint at the time, but he knew instinctively his mom, no, mo-ther, was displeased with him. So he stopped in the door, unsure if it was safe to take another step into his parents’ bedroom.

“Where is dad?” he asked.

His mother finally stopped from fixing her face to look at him.

“Come to me, Alex,” she opened her arms, making the nightgown she was wearing float like colorful wings around her.

His mother was beautiful. Like an actress. But she wasn’t one. She was a housewife. That was what Rose was saying. A desperate housewife. Why desperate? Alex hadn’t gotten the allusion at the time.

“Your father has decided to go live someplace else, with another family, Alex,” his mother explained. “So it will be just the two of us from now on. Won’t it be fun?”

She distracted him by starting to show him her makeup kit. There were so many colors there, and his mother knew everything about colors, matching them, and using them to make herself even more beautiful than she was.

It hadn’t been just the two of them after that. His mother had remarried twice and had had plenty of affairs. And, in the meantime, they had never been just the two of them.

“Alex? Alex Miller?” someone called for him.

All right. Time to dream was over. His eyes snapped open. A woman between ages, who definitely looked like a dead ringer for Yolanda, his boss at Beauty Ex, was touching his shoulder.

“Alex Ruskin, actually,” he replied while straightening himself up.

“People go by their real names in here, dear,” the woman corrected him, using a maternal, sugary voice.

Alex looked around. It looked like he was in a waiting lobby of sorts. The furniture was minimal, and everything was white. It was a tad too simplistic for his taste. Maybe they hadn’t had the money for a real interior decorator.

The lack of artistic vision in the room layout was not answering his question, nonetheless.

“Could you please tell me where am I?” he asked, looking back at the woman. “Ah, and my real name is Alex Ruskin. I am married,” he added.

He could overlook the mishap, but now he was wondering who had made the appointment in his name. If it was his assistant who had done it, the man was going to find a new place to work soon. Ah, wait, he had just fired the guy.

“That you may think you are, dear,” the woman stopped his train of thought. “But you know you don’t exactly feel married,” she said while shaking her head and pursing her lips in disapproval.

What was that supposed to mean? Setting his chin high, and making sure his voice was as icy as it could possibly be, he hurried to contradict her.

“I am definitely married. See?” he put up his left hand.

And stared in disbelief at his naked ring finger.

“What is this place?” he put his hand down, and this time, he didn’t hide his displeasure when looking at his presumptive host. “My wedding ring has obviously been stolen!”

“Now-now dear,” the woman took him by one arm, bent on making him follow her. “Nothing’s been stolen. Actually, we are surprised to find you here. But, thinking about the circumstances ...” the woman shook her head, and her voice dropped low as if she was talking to herself, “it all makes sense in a way.”

Alex could feel a cold chill down his back.

“Am I in a mental institution?”

Everything white, people bent on contradicting guests ... That could be.

“No, dear,” the woman shook her head and gestured for him to enter an office that seemed just as white as the waiting lobby. “I will try to explain things to you since your overseer is not available at the moment.”

“Overseer?” Alex mumbled. “Is this some prank? Who uses such a word? Is this some reality show? I don’t remember giving my consent. I strongly advise that you don’t keep me here against my will, or I will sue,” he said in a heartbeat.

He seriously didn’t have time for this. There was at least one photo shoot to attend today, and later he had plans with Simon.

“See? How can you say you’re married while thinking of another man?” the woman scolded him.

Alex could feel his jaw dropping. Also, the chill on his back was getting worse.

“What kind of a TV show is this? How ... Can you read minds?!” he almost yelled.

His voice, when high-pitched, was getting weird. He was usually avoiding doing that. Yet, right now, he couldn’t stop.

“Please, have a seat, Alex,” his host gestured for a white leather chair.

He sat, feeling his blood draining from his upper body.

“Have I ...” he licked his lips, now dry like paper. “Have I lost my mind?”

“Dear, this is not a mental institution. We call it, for the sake of our guests,” the woman said while linking her hands and placing them under her chin, “the In-Between.”

“Interesting name,” Alex frowned. “But,” he raised one finger, “I am signed with Beauty Ex for at least two more years. And I have no intentions to change that. Well, except for the right incentive, of course.”

“Not even for a household name?” the woman smiled at him, and that made his frown grow deeper.

“I feel like I am at the receiving end of some bad joke,” he said sternly.

The woman sighed now.

“We wish it was a joke. The truth is, Alex, you shouldn’t be here. You should be already on the other side of the river.”

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. No, he wasn’t the one insane. But the woman in front of him was speaking gibberish.

“I believe I took enough of your time,” he stood up. “Don’t worry; I will see myself out.”

There was no point in making a scene. The woman seemed harmless, and the fact that she looked like Yolanda made Alex feel a bit strange to start yelling at her. So he could be civil and walk out.

The waiting lobby seemed to have one door, and he went for it.

“What on earth?” he murmured.

It was locked.

All right, he was getting upset enough to start yelling at his un-obliging host. The theory of a reality show sounded more accurate than ever. So, they wanted to see him lose his cool. Taking off his wedding ring, having him stuck in a white office with some lunatic who somehow knew about Simon.

Wait. Simon. No. No, the guy could not have sold him out like this. Simon was as gullible as a three-year-old. He had not one ounce of evil in his slim body. And what a body he had, Alex mused. Had he not been so keen on never encouraging competition, he would have told the guy to apply for a modeling position. Maybe they could have even shot some ads together.

But no. Simon was way too good-looking, and Alex knew he wasn’t going to be an attractive twink forever. Simon was younger. Well off, so he didn’t need the money. Not the way Alex needed money. Also, if Simon was starting to model, he was bound to steal the show. And that, for no reason at all. It would have just pissed him off.

“Sorry, Simon, only enough room for one name up in lights,” he spoke out loud.

Hmm, he didn’t mean to say that. He pushed away the thought as he noticed a key in a beautiful bowl placed on a small coffee table. Oh, so it was like an escape room sort of situation? They really wanted to see him losing his cool.

Well, he had no intention to give them the satisfaction. Calmly, he picked up the key, held it with two fingers, and looked around. Where could they have hidden the cameras? Maybe they had used some paint to conceal them? It wasn’t impossible.

With a shrug, he decided to try the door with the key he had just found. Straightening up some invisible wrinkles on his t-shirt, he walked toward the door.

Where was the door? He frowned and shook his head. He was pretty confident it was on that wall. Whatever technologies they were using for this prank had to cost a fortune. All for the better. That meant they had enough money to stop him from suing them.

He looked down. A small door was there, but it was apparently impossible for a human being to go through it. Not even a little person could. Nonetheless, he had a key, and he had to try it. Maybe it was going to reveal a piece of the puzzle.

He knelt and began fiddling with the lock. It worked. Great. They were going to say about him that he was not only good looking but smart, too. He could picture the titles.

“We tried to prank Alex Ruskin, but he out-pranked us! Who would have thought the guy has the brains, not just the looks?” he mumbled to himself.

He pushed open the little door.

What ...?! The door was even smaller?! How could that be? And how were they doing it before his very eyes?

Now he was going to have to lie flat on his stomach if he hoped to see something through that door and get the next piece of the puzzle.

Just as he was trying to figure out a way to do that without showing some lousy angle for the cameras that he still didn’t know where they were, the door seemed to shrink a few more inches.

“No, no, no,” he said through his teeth as he almost threw himself to the floor.

The door disappeared, engulfed by the wall, before his eyes. Ah, damn it! He almost wanted to manifest his frustration by punching the floor or a wall. But no, he was who he was because he knew exactly when to smile.

And this was the sort of situation to show the idiots who were trying to prank him that he never ever lost his cool.

What was supposed to be the next step? It looked like he needed to go back to the office, and talk again to the lady host.

He knocked shortly and stepped inside. The desk behind which the woman sat was now covered with files, and the lady was busy searching for something in a drawer.

“Ahem,” he coughed discreetly, to draw her attention.

“Where could that be?” the woman was talking to herself.

“Could you please show me the way out?” Alex spoke out loud.

The woman stopped and looked at him.

“Alex, please, sit down. I should have the protocol for such situations somewhere, but I don’t seem to find it. This place, I swear, is always a mess.”

“What protocol?” Alex could feel getting irritated by the second. “I don’t like throwing empty threats, but I feel like I have to say it. Let me out, or there will be consequences. I have a photo shoot coming up. I am certain my boss is pulling out her hair right now, wondering where I am and ...”

“Yes?” the woman stopped her frantic search to look at him. “What else, Alex? What are you forgetting?”

It was there, on the tip of his tongue. Of course, there was his plan of meeting Simon later, but that was not it.

“Aron asked you to think about going to see his parents this weekend,” the woman said and kept her round, witty eyes trained on him. “But you don’t intend to go,” she continued. “You haven’t seen your in-laws in almost half a year, and, if you were never to visit, that wouldn’t be an issue with you.”

Alex sat on the chair, without protesting anymore.

“How do you know all this?” he murmured, the fear of cameras catching him unawares gone from his mind.

“It is our job,” the woman said. “Now, if only I could find the protocol ... All right, we will have to do without it. Shall we begin?”

“By all means,” Alex sat back in his chair.

The woman sat her hands primly on the desk, took one look down, as if to prepare herself, and then looked Alex straight in the eye.

“You should be dead.”

A cold chill ran down his spine in an instant.

“All right,” he murmured, trying to get a hold of himself. “This is no longer a joke. Please let me out of here. I won’t sue. Just … let me out.”

~ end of excerpt

Author's note: You can read the entire thing - 7-chapters long - on my Patreon.

#box shaped heart #my original fiction #laurasfox #taming a jerk

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professional-benaddict · 5 years ago

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Starker ficlet - BSDM auction AU

For the moodboard and drabble here

Dom Tony, sub 18+ Peter, Dom Stephen, BDSM, Dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, crying bc it’s not a fic of mine unless Peter’s crying, 1.5k

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“Oh, back so soon, Stark. What happened to Keener?” Stephen purrs smoothly when he sees Tony walking into the backstage. Let’s just say that not everyone makes it past the bouncers to get backstage, unless Stephen has put you on the sacred list.

“Dumped him. He could hardly take a beating.” Tony responds simply. “I heard you got a dozen new subs to show off tonight.” The Dom says, cutting right to the point of why he is at Stephen’s secret underground club. Stephen is hosting another auction and Tony is aching to get his hands on a new sub since Harley hardly lasted a month.

“Two dozen actually, and a good amount of twinks this time too.” The other Dom says, knowing that his friend has a peculiar taste, and is not interested in female subs.

“This better be good Strange.” Tony grumbles as he moves to walk past Stephen and to the audience to sit down. “And get me a scotch, will you?”

Stephen scoffs in return, taking the clipboard that his assistant is showing him.

“I’m not your sub, Stark, but I will provide you with one.” The other Dom chuckles before heading off when it is announced from somewhere above that the auction is starting in ten minutes.

After getting his scotch, Tony goes and finds himself a free booth and enjoys his drink as he waits for the auction to start. But, even when the auction starts, Tony pays more attention to his phone and his drink since Stephen always does the girls first. Half an hour later, Stephen finally brings the first boy on stage and Tony starts paying attention, but after the fourth boy, Tony starts to lose hope of finding himself a new toy tonight.

When Stephen announces that this is the second to last boy, Tony finishes his drink in one big gulp before getting up, ready to leave the auction empty-handed, but then his eye catches something glorious on stage. It is the boy, number 42, standing there in all his naked glory with nothing but a simple, black leather collar around his neck and his delicate hand in Stephen’s much larger and stronger one. Before even considering for a brief second, Tony shouts out his offer, which is so high already that only one other person in the dark room challenges it, but it is all pocket money for Tony and he raises once more. And so, the sub is Tony’s and Stephen says he can collect his belonging backstage once they have gone through all the subs. Half an hour later, Peter’s delicate hand is in Tony’s.

“All yours, Stark. Enjoy.” Stephen grins widely and waltzes away now that all the money has been transferred by his customers to his account. The sub looks as Stephen walks away longingly before turning to Tony, but he does not raise his head to meet the older man’s eyes.

“What’s your name, boy?” Tony asks, almost already bored, but he has to give the sub a chance since he paid so much to get him. The boy flinches visibly before speaking, but that might just be from the cold since he is just dressed in a black silk robe that was provided by Stephen’s staff.

“Peter, Sir. Peter Parker.” Peter squeaks out.

“I’m Tony Stark, but you will refer to me as Mr Stark at all times. Understood?”

“Understood, Mr Stark.”

“Good, now let’s see if you’re trained at all. Undress and present.”

“R-right here?” Peter asks unsurely.

“Yes, right here! Who’s in charge, huh?” Tony snaps with a raised voice and Peter snaps into action. “Christ, who trained you?”

“Mr Beck, Mr Stark.” Peter replies quickly after folding his silk robe as neatly as he can before placing it next to his feet. The sub then spreads his legs to be at shoulder-length, straightens his back, lifts his head and raises his arms to intertwine his fingers behind his head.

After being a Dom for most of his life, Tony can recognise a good presentation posture from a mile away, and this boy is a horrendous sub, but also a stunning sub. The boy jumps visibly when the older man begins touching him and corrects his posture. His collar feels tight around his neck when he feels his new Dom’s keen eyes on him, examining every bit of his naked body. A group of people walk past right when Tony is groping at Peter’s exposed cock and balls, but the boy can hardly say anything to protest the suffocating embarrassment but to keep his gaze down and mouth shut.

“I’ve heard that Beck’s subs are the worst ‘round here.” Tony muses and straightens up after inspecting his new belonging. Peter gulps a little, but does not reply as he was not directly addressed in the form of a question. “But, you’re such a pretty thing, that I guess I’ll give you a chance.”

Peter sighs in relief and for a brief second, he lets his posture down, but he straightens up as soon as he realises his mistake, glancing up nervously at his new Dom before dropping his gaze. Tony smirks, thinking that perhaps the sub is not so hopeless after all. The Dom snaps his fingers.

“Get dressed. We are going home.”

A week later, Peter is less of a horrendous sub, but still far from the standard that Tony is used to. Half of the time, the Dom wonders how on Earth Peter even made it to Stephen Strange and put up for auction when he is clearly barely trained. He also thinks about how bad of a deal it was to pay so much money for a badly trained sub, but the other half of the time, Tony marvels at the sheer beauty of the boy that is now occupying his guest room, right next to his own master bedroom.

Despite his bad posture, lack of manners and half-assed training, the boy reminds Tony of a fairy. He is light as a feather on his feet and mostly walks on his toes, but when he does walk with his heels on the floor too, it is soft and delicate. The Dom wonders if the sub is afraid of angering him, and that is why he is tip-toeing around, so he assures him that he can roam around freely, except for the playroom, his bedroom and the office. Peter must get permission to enter those rooms.

To balance out his light and delicate form, Peter’s eyes are dark and carry a lot of history for such a young man. Tony hopes that he can get the privileges of knowing the sub’s backstory one day, as there is a hint of sadness is those dark brown eyes that catches his curiosity. But, for now the Dom has to focus on training his sub.

“No, hands flat on your thighs.” Tony corrects for the third time after commanding a naked Peter to kneel by his feet. The Dom kicks the boy’s hand lightly with his Oxford shoes, which matches his three-piece suit.

“Sorry, Mr Stark.” Peter says a little thickly as being corrected for all his failures since waking up is taking its toll on his self-esteem. He swallows down a sob, but he is a fraction too late and catches Tony’s attention.

“What’s the matter?” Tony asks and remains standing in front of Peter.

“I-“

“Speak up!”

“I’m humiliated!” Peter yelps out and sobs again, but does not lift his hands from his thighs to wipe at his eyes.

“Well, you have to put those feelings aside, because this is not humiliating in the slightest. If only you knew, boy.” Tony scoffs and goes to get himself a drink from the stand in the corner of the living room, leaving Peter on the carpet. He could have made the sub kneel on the wooden floor, but he decided to be kind and chose the carpet instead. “Posture!”

Peter flinches and puts his hand back on his thigh, biting back another sob.

“One more mistake and I’m spanking you, do you understand? But, I highly doubt you want that since you cannot even take verbal correction. So, I highly suggest you start behaving like a proper sub and not like a crybaby, or I’m spanking you till you cannot walk and then returning you to that shit Beck who apparently ‘trained’ you.”

Peter’s expression hardens, but he does not say anything. After swallowing his sobs down and sniffling the last tears away, Peter corrects his posture without Tony prompting him to do so. The Dom hums quietly and goes to sit on the leather sofa, watching the sub closely while sipping on his drink. 20 minutes pass, then 40 and then an hour has passed, and Peter has kept his posture perfect without making so much as a peep. With a pleased smile, Tony rises from his seat and offers his hand to the boy who looks up at him with a bewildered expression.

“Come on, training is over for today. Let’s get you a hot meal and then to bed.” Tony says, his voice much softer than before and Peter almost wants to cry again, but he doesn’t.

“Thank you, Mr Stark.” Peter replies politely and holds onto his Dom’s hand tightly as he leads the way to the kitchen. Smiling softly, Tony nods back. Perhaps the boy is not so horrendous after all.

#my fics #my prompts #starker #starker fic #starker fanfic #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker #tony stark

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fruitz · 4 years ago

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johnten: a phrase that seems like it has existed since before the sands of time. it’s provocative, it’s excting, it’s.... fake?! yes readers, everyone’s favorite little jock x twink interactions were the brainchild of something even worse than a classic SM-planted gaybait, and I, user SorryJohnny am here to singlehandedly put a stop to the abomination that we currently call johnten. I have information that I intend will cause you little freaks known as johnten shippers to go into extinction. i know what you’re thinking: but user Sorry Johnny, ten had an intense sexual attraction to johnny! no you fucking donkey! this was all an illusion put into your tiny little pea brains that are so quickly satisfied with even an ounce of male on male flirting and angst that you’ve been blinded this whole time. let’s pull up the evidence. my suspicions of johnten began with the infamous vlive titled "💚쟈니 텐 출사 준비중 시즈 니 도와주세요💚" braodcasted on july 12, 2018, which is otherwise titled as “johnny and tennie’s photo club” by YouTube creator brickbackstrony. it makes me sick to my stomach. yaoi-consuming freaks with no free time flocked to create edits & AUs based off of ten referring to johnny as a “top model” & saying he “lit his fire”. in fact, YouTube creator bringbackstrony claims ten *shivers in gay*. YouTube editors make me incredibly nauseous. straight kboos who have never spoken to a gay person in their entire live were too busy leaking their panties to pay attention to the cold hard proof at hand. when ten accidentally cut the crap. at timestamp 42:27, the slander begins, with ten bringing up johnny’s “thin lips” resulting in johnny looking visually offended. it only gets worse from there. at 43:13 ten releases an utter truth that he has been holding since SM rookies: “I think you look very weird.” no, user SorryJohnny, he quickly corrected himself and meant the drawing! no, reader, he went on to say “like sometimes, sorry.” he couldn’t cover up what he had done, so all he could do was apologize. that powerful statement, ringing through my ears as i lie to rest at night, “i think you look very weird” is the most genuine string of words that have ever come out of that pot-stirrer’s mouth. and i mean that sincerely, as someone who would, sadly, get gunned down in the street over that little shit starting fairy. he goes on to reveal a horrendous drawing of “johnny” that i can only describe as This Man, you know, the one with the unibrow that we see in our dreams? ten the man who designed his own tattoos. ten, the man who wants to create his own jewelry line. ten, the man who forced us all to witness his drawings of softcore porn peacock feather pussies 2 months ago... wait, you’re a johfam and you don’t know that ten did that? i’m sorry, it’s best you don’t try to find it. you’re telling me ten, the multilingual main dancer main vocalist sometimes rapper illustrator put out that visceral steaming pile of dog shit into the world and called it JOHNNY? do with that information what you will. so where does this leave us, reader? ten thinks johnny is very ugly. what now? what caused this entitled little f- to act like that exactly? that’s where things get interseting, and honestly, quite brutal. i firlmy believe that ten does want to have sex with one bitter, pretentious, ancient old hack known as wayv’s qian kun, which is something i find very abysmal in and of itself, and should be considered beastiality, but that’s obviously for another time. so this brings us to the question at hand, how does ten flirt sincerely? openly and fruity, or by pining and angst? given his pisces placement, the latter is the correct answer. given this information, we find that ten in fact did not find john suh sexually or romantically attractive. we’re back to the square one; what caused that little fruit to publicly say he wanted to have sex with him and utter abhorrent visual statements such as that of the nightmare-inducing “john’s banana?” why, you ask? it’s simple: ten is a bully. why would ten make a bunch of 16 year old straight girls with blue hair and fujoshi kinks think that he found johnny suh to be the sexiest man alive? and why did he make an entire population of women age 18+ with daddy issues and stockholm syndrome believe the same thing? he answer is self explanatory. why does the republican jock pretend he has a crush on the ugly pimple-ridden sjw in a nyan cat shirt? harassment, bullying, and an unhealthily high sense of self. ten is a narcissist. he walked into SM one day to meet one 6’0 tall chicagoan accented john jun suh with as much sex appeal as mr. rogers and thought to himself “this is the ugliest man i’ve ever seen in my god-given life. i think i will pretend i want to have sex with him.” and thus, the terrorism that some like to call “johnten” and others like to call “a visual abomination to the gay population and mankind as a whole” was birthed, by none other than the manipulative, gas-lighting little bundle of nerves with a name that fits the entire alphabet; chittaphon leechaiyapornkul. the bastard. it’s hard to say if the little fruit started this act out of malice or pity. either way, the inflation of that plastic surgery monster’s ego was a strategically targeted hate crime on us all. why would he do that? why would he make an entire population of innocent nctzens trying to thirst over sexy little lee taeyong in silence endure the inflated ego of a 25 year old straight man that dresses like a geriatric patient? this, i cannot say. but one thing i do know for sure, is that ten deserves extended jail time for this horrid act of what, pity? ego? malice? on 10velys and johfam alike. all that’s left to say is, i’m sorry johnny suh.

#in honor of me realizing they returned <3

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kr1msonkand1 · 5 years ago

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Gency week 6

Day 4: Storm

Pic-Fic combo

IM NOT A WRITER. I only did this for fun.

Heads up: Language, Angst

Storm

Late one stormy night, Blackwatch's agent have newly returned from their recent mission.

Gabe meets up with Jack to give the mission report. Moira quickly scrambles to reach her bunnies at the lab. Mccree getting patched up from the fight. Genji all battered and bruised walked straight to Mercy's lab neglecting anyone who wished to speak to him.

Upon reaching his destination, he's surprissed to see the doctor has done quite a big mess all by herself.

Papers all over the table, few empty mugs, a spilled mug of coffee on the floor, her schedule board covered in pinned notes on every corner and the doctor who dozed-off, head down on the table.

Genji never expected to see Angela this messy.

He slowly walks over to her then suddenly a bright streak of lightning lights the room and a loud thunder broke the silence and woken her right up. Screaming.

She calms down to see Genji just as worn-out as she is. Gaining her senses back she rushes over to him.

"Genji, what happened to you?!"

"..."

"Forget it..." she then let's out a big sigh. "Let's get you fixed up."

After moments of twinking and fixing his cybernetic components she aids his human side. Both remained quite, enough to hear the aggresive raindrops hitting the glass window. They are alone.

"Genji..." says Angela, rubbing his arm with cloth. He looks up to see her face.

"Why are you like this?"

Genji, baffled on what she said, reajusts himself.

"Why do keep coming to me with more work to do?"she continues.

Genji, still tired from the mission begins to mumble.

"What is it? Just tell me." she says now raising her voice.

"This!... Im ruined..." Genji responds.

"hah. Really? You do remember this was yo-"

"No!" Genji interrupts her.

"This is your doing! My brother wanted me dead and yet you brought me back to life! You have may returned my breath but I am not who I used to be anymore all because of you." Genji now yelling at her.

"B-but... your now bette-"

"No I'm not!"

Silence fills the room once more...

Angela now with tears running down her pink tinted face. Genji sees this.

"You know you wouldn't have been going through this if you have just left me for dead" Genji said knowing the impact it had on her.

"You don't even have any idea what im going through everyday so I dont expect you to understand." said Genji "...and to think you were sma-"

"OH SHUT THE FUCK UP!" yelled Angela who's now taken so much of it has had enough. Lightning strikes as if she controlled the weather.

"Your right. I don't have an idea what you're going through but YOU don't know what I'm going through either." said Angela, gesturing extensively. "Yeah sure you're going through shit but so am I! Look around you, my lab is a mess, I have so much work to do and I still have to fix YOU!"

She's never shown this side if her ever. It's always been that caring, strong, and encouraging side. No one were to ever expect her snap before especially at Genji.

Genji triggered by what she said responds:

"I'm the one going around fighting villians while you just sit around here and all you do to me is made me worse by giving me this garbage on my body! I can't even identify who I am anymore, so there no way your life is as rough as mine!"

"Your right... very right..." a tear goes down her face."My life can't be as terrible as yours..."

"See i told-"

"MINES MORE FUCKING HORRENDOUS!" yelled Angela, bursting in tears, desisting Genji to talk. "You're the patient I have to attend to and I'm the doctor who has to go through lots of bat-shit just tend to her patient who hasn't been thankful at all for bringing back his life and giving him an oppurtunity to change!" As she said this more and more tears kept running down. She continues.

Genji froze their thinking of how stupid he was, reflecting on all the unacceptable deeds he has done towards her. His mind was lost in her words.

Angela's affronting and Genji regains his senses after hearing a large thud coming from outside the lab's door. Both straighten up and fix themselves looking at other places. She goes to the door and opens it to find nothing out of the ordinary.

"I hope to see you this friday for your weekly maintanence." turning off the lights and walking out then running to her personal quarters. Sobbing.

Genji walks out and closes the door then procceeds to the lobby to see every major agent suspiciously there even though there wasn't a scheduled meeting. He sits down with his friend Mccree now patched up.

"Wow that must've have been hard for you and Dr. Ziegler." said Jessie

"Yeah it wa- WAIT!" replied Genji. "HOW DID YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LAB?!"

"JESSIE!!" yelled every agent.

~END~

Tell me what you think of the fic or pic.

#gencyweek #gency week #gency #genjixmercy #storm #im sorry for doing this #tell me what you thought of it

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goffilolo · 6 years ago

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Demise!Izuku as a Youtuber?

Yep! You heard me right. Demise server is a strange little land, full of strange little ideas, unfortunitely this one idea in particular wasn’t so little. So without further ado here’s all the shit we came up with in the server in regards to izuku as a youtuber within demise!au:

If Izuku was a YouTuber can you imagine the fucking chaos dumpster fire his channel would be

He's be like an edgy twink Jenna marbles(edited)

Doing Me time every damn day

bandit is jennas dogs

tenya is julien

He'd have weird ass videos like dipping bandits feet in red pet dye then putting a sign on him that says "you pet and you'll meet the last person who dared to"(edited)

And he's also make videos about him breaking into UA and interrupting classes and stuff

"hey gamers, today we're breaking into UA to see my boyfriend and read all of my friend's secret files"

And a video just of him filing Aizawa in weird places and at the end putting him on an inflatable mattress and watching him float away

He wakes up in Canada

They don't know how or why

He just attaches a go-pro to trash bandit and let's him run wild. He probably has a seriesJust letting him loose in weird places

DONT LET TRASH BANDIT EAT AIZAWA'S SLEEPING BAG AT 3AM | VERY SCARY"hey guys so today ill be doing the 'How many bottles of quil can i steal before i get caught by Tsukabitch' challange. feel free to make a video of your own!"

He probably dyes Bandit according to holidays and puts him as the profile picture. The kicker is, he only does it for holidays that his country doesn't celebrate

Like 4th of july

And Canada day

"Hewo soulless fuckers it is me your overlord, King of the soulless fuckers. Today I'll be going up to people in the streets and telling them that I killed God and Satan. But y'all know me, that's not enough. So I'll be asking them which one I killed first and if they get it wrong I take a shot of quil. The quil I'll be taking is the plain ol kind so don't worry your little marshmallow heads about it."

He only makes text posts in OwO speak this just makes me realise demise!izuku would make a great youtuber

He would twitch stream all the time doing the weirdest shit for hours on end

"what is up gamews! today i wiww be weviewing the new game cawwed life! i have been pwaying it fow about 16 yeaws now and i have to say it's pwetty bad my guys!"

I feel like he'd be absurdly popular and whenever someone mentions him and they look up the channel they are like "wth have I stumbled upon?!"

I'm just imagining what his front page would look like

The seasonal trash bandit profile picture, the banner would be a flaming hellscape with people he dislikes burning and trash bandit looming on low opacity in the background

(He made it so that only people who view it on TV get the full experience.)

He probably has his own segment on buzzfeed unsolved

Not talking

Its about him

The intro video would just be him staring into the camera while mixing together a horrible concoction of quil then downing it without breaking eye contact(edited)

His about section is written in 3 different types of code and it's all in owo if you manage to crack it

i love demise|!izuku as a youtube cryptid

Clown Speak and OwO speak mixed together

I feel like in the beginning Izuku was this obscure YouTuber that you only find out about if someone in the know tells you about it until a bigger YouTuber found him out on a deep dive video and just couldn't stop watching yes

i imagine once he gets big people from react channel would invite him to react to videos of people reacting to his videos

What if in one of his videos he started acting like his old self just to freak everyone out. He didn't say anything about it instead he talked about hero analysis with a bright smile and trail off into muttering a few times only to blush when he realized it. He have his hair in a ponytail with only bangs framing his face and some messy pieces falling out. Also her be wearing something plain but like old Izuku, maybe hero merch or something. The comment section was just people flipping out and shit

He never acknowledges the video after he made it

No matter how many comments he gets he acts like it doesn't exist

omg you know wha tthat would actually allign with the demise and canon swap places for a da

yand you know what that gives me a lot of feels

the millions of subscribers get to see the old izuku

Maybe after a milestone he would post a video he made in middle school of him analyzing a quirk in video format to make sure it wouldn't get destroyed

And he put a couple videos of younger him after it

But it starts being supporting Izuku

And his present and past self and stuff

PEOPLE MAKE FAN ART first Its all full of trash and memes

What if that picture of canon Izuku meeting demise Izuku was a fan art someone made of his old self meeting the new him

Kids from his class kinda Piecing together they really screwed up?Some even sending in apologies, perhaps

For mental health day I could see him posting a serious video about what he went through and his time in the mental hospital

And on national stop bullying day he would talk about his decade of abuse including the details of how the school and teachers fucked up and everything aboutbakugou

izuku using youtrube for shitposting and advocating

And for mothers day he features both Rei and Inko?

Endeavor exposure video

What if Rei helped edit or something?To help pass the time for her

Give her something to do

People love the mysterious editor

I feel like villains watch his content like maybe Dabi

rei and fuyumi sometimes make appearances

Dabi just shows up in the videos

Quickly become faves

I feel like Dabi would become a fan and start crying after seeing his mom happy in one of Izuku's videos

"...and this is rei, my hospital mom and this if fuyumi, her daughter so like my sister she helps me keep my shit together and sometimes gives me quil.."

dabi crying from seeing his mom happy in some lunatic's youtube videos

“...and this is shin, dont let the looks deceive you this man went to jail"

Shin comes in and covers the cameras a lot

FATHERS DAY IS A PICTURE OF TRASH BANDIT WITH HIS DADS VOICE SCRAMBLED OVER IT

“and this is the local florida woman and her alligator

WHAT IF BNHA VERSE HAD QUIRKLESS AWARENESS WEEKizuku would go ape shit during that week

"who needs a quirk when my dad gave me a gun!"

He would give axe sharpening tips

"Remember kids! Society won't help you, so you gotta help yourself!"

he would make 'how to cook videos' except it would only be quil combos

What if one day he just put quil in the ovenand pulled out a muffin

Remeber, don't try this at home kids." makes A horrifying quil combo "rememer never ever do this even if you have a quirk that allows it." downs the horror concoction

"so today were gonna do my boyriend does my makeup challange and since both me and tenya are dumb and know nothing i borrowed my mums makeup..."

It’s a given he’s gonna do makeup tutorials. The real question is would they be good or absolutely horrendous?

good or horrendous? Both

Amazing makeup at horrendous things? Hmmm interesting

“Hey guys today I’m turning myself into a real like eldrich abomination with the help of eyeliner and glitter!”

izuku has a whole playlist of videos dedicated to tenya and UA

theyre all jsut shitposty compilations of some footage when tenya isnt looking

Even tho it looks like he couldn't give a fuck he is very selective with which footage makes it online. He's very careful at how much is revealed and makes sure no students or secret identities would be in danger with his content

izuku isnt stupid...hes jsut having a good time

Sneaking into UA highschool by hiding in pro hero eraserhead's sleeping bag | NOT CLICKBAIT

Izuku would totally play carefree and childish games while just being Izuku

Like his animal crossing series

Fucking legendary on his channel in terms of gaming

izuku's sims lets play

it's like a 10 generation long telenovela lowkey based off the todoroki family

He has no straight sims, he recreated UA and class 1a in sims

the wedding of sim izuku and sim tenya is like the biggest party in the sim neighbourhood

He creates endeavor just to lock him in a room with 50 ovens

Omg his draw my life has got to be super depressing

He'd be super blunt and monotone during his whole draw my life going through all of the abuse and bullying that he went through because of his quirklessness and also his suicide attempt and all that jazz(edited)

izuku would paint on a potato

Izuku would make a get ready with me where he does something totally batshit crazy then ends it with "Ah. Yet another day in my life."

Izuku meets Marie Kondo

“Only keep what brings you joy”

“Well this gun from my father sure brings me joy”

Knifemaking videos but with axes

Izuku decided to do a wardrobe tour and like 4 things were bloodstained which he never addressed. The most popular comment was what happened, which of course he never answered.

Izuku does these new year (like all of the questions from last year) or milestone Q+A’s/AMA's which are basically people just asking a bunch of the things he wouldn't answer or address before. A lot of his viewers write down and timestamp when he does something and doesn't address it. If you don't you'll never hear an answer.

He has his boonk gang phrase which is probably like Bandit gang or some shit like that, which he shouts while breaking into places. UA dorm rooms, UA facility office, UA, Hero Agency’s, Endeavour's bedroom (Don't ask), etc.

He has a variety of videos where he does things from different communities. For example he has a few hair tutorial and following hair tutorial videos. Same for makeup.I feel like Izuku would also have some dresses and slutty Halloween costumes that be put on in a video all while looking like someone who just had finals and was studying for 4 days straight beforehand.

At like 4AM a thought hit Izuku to have Trash Bandit meet Kouta for the first time and learn what his sheep talks about and what he has to say. Needless to say he took his camera, went to UA, stormed the dorms, went up to the shy kid sheep in hand, looked him dead in the eye, and asked “What is my sheep saying.” bandit speaks and Kouta goes from confused and slightly scared to disgusted and horrified. What did Bandit say? Who the fuck knows…

Izuku loves analysis and while he doesn't do it for heroes anymore when he misses it too much sometimes he does it with tv shows or other things.

Idk what yet but Izuku is weirdly good at something and only showed it on camera once. (He's casually known to be a good artist) Whatever he's good at he did it once for a video and it's in one of the most popular compilation videos of him. 15 minutes of Izuku being a cinnamon roll.

Izuku has a shit ton of videos featuring the UA kids. He has some playlists dedicated to certain ones even if all you see is the back of their head.

Any proceeds Izuku manages to get (he is popular but he gets demonetized a lot) goes to different charities for the quirkless.

He made only 1 serious cooking video on his birthday, but instead of using a knife he used an axe.

He has a video called “My sharp things (tour)” where he just shows off all of his knives and axes and shit along with a massive pair of scissors he got Momo to make.

Izuku makes videos of himself destroying endeavor merch while staring at the camera.

#demise!au #bnha #youtuber!au #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #word vomit

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queenslasharchive · 6 years ago

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“This seat taken?” A voice like a chainsmoker stage-whispered into John’s ear as what looked like an attractive woman’s hand slid down his thigh.

“What the f-” he started to choke out as he faced the stranger, whose full appearance hit him like a truck. The first thing he noticed was a pair of wide eyes in the most obnoxiously pretty shade of blue he could imagine. The more of their appearance he took in, the more that phrase seemed to stick. Obnoxiously pretty. Fluffy blond shoulder length hair, slim shoulders, pink lips enhanced with some kind of gloss, and a horrendous silky blouse unbuttoned all the way to the belt. “Who are you?” He sputtered.

“Whoever you’d like me to be, baby,” the stranger crawled before leaning in close to him and taking on a businesslike tone of voice. “Look, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a lot of guys watching us. Men at bars are simple. You give them a show, they buy you beer. Now I’m tired of paying for drinks, but I’m not nearly as smashed as I’d like to be, and I can’t help but think you’re in the same position.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Make out with me.”

Despite being, as the human peacock that was taking up far too much of his personal space had said, not nearly as smashed as he’d like to be, John found his resolve weakened enough that he muttered a quick “okay” and placed his hands on the stranger’s waist. “Quick question though- what’s your name?”

“Roger Taylor,” the blond replied.

“John Deacon. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh no baby, pleasure’s all mine,” was all the warning John received before the twink- Roger- climbed up the barstool to place bracket John’s hips with his knees, take his face in both hands, and slide his tongue into his mouth.

John let out a squeak of surprise that was muffled against Roger’s lips. They were soft and slick like a girl’s, but those neatly manicured hands were rough and muscular against his cheeks. Coupled with the gruff moans vibrating against his lips, John couldn’t have forgotten that it was a man fondling him even if he’d particularly wanted to.

His ears rung from what he first thought was shock, but turned out to be whistles and cheers from other bar patrons. He hadn’t set out to like this, but on the other hand… he didn’t exactly hate being watched. His cock stirred in agreement. On instinct, John slid his hands down Roger’s back; rucking up his shirt to feel his bare, heated skin with one hand, roughly cupping his ass with the other to pull his hips down, desperate for friction over those criminally tight jeans.

Just as he felt Roger begin to smile against his mouth, John’s focus was broken by two pints of beer slamming down onto the countertop. Right. Duh. The reason he’d agreed to let the str- Roger- kiss him in the first place.

Roger pushed backwards off the barstool and onto his own, but John couldn’t help but notice his high blush, shaking knees, blown pupils, and swollen lips. Taking a self-congratulatory swig of beer, he choked and sputtered when Roger opened his mouth again.

“Mmm, I love a man who can swallow.” Those damned blue eyes twinkled irresistibly as Roger offered his glass in a toast. “Same time next week?”

Comments: I love this fic with my entire being. I can’t believe this exists - it’s everything I ever wanted. I don’t have much more to say. The original ask was perfect, and so is this fic.

#joger #fic #submission #roger: twink #john: twink #i can't believe these tags are now official #god but i need more of this #anna #relationship: get together #author: nobutseriouslywhat

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goopytoad · 6 years ago

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Pornhub [Gay!]

Dan was sitting on his bed, browsing the internet aimlessly. Lets refrase that, Dan was laying on his bed with his laptop sitting beside him, with a porn site open. He eyed the front page of PornHub. Nothing looked apealing. He scrolled down to the bottom of the page, were the different tabs were located. He eyed the tab that read "Gay." Small across the screen, but, slowly nagging at his mind to click on and have a good, guilty, orgasm So, he clicked on it. He heard Phil walk across the hall to go to his room, so, when he closed the door to his room, he looked at his screen. Now that was appealing. All Dan saw was boys. so many boys. tiny boys, avarage boys, hunks, twinks, more than he could count. He searched; "Emo." Simple, yet so effective when the tab loaded and his cock twitched with an image of a black haired boy that looked like Phil. What had gotten over him all the sudden? But he clicked on it, shamefully and lust-filled as his cock started to rise in his sweat pants. When the video started, he bit down on his lip and let out a whimper just at the sight. He immediately took action and shoved his hand down his sweats, gripping his cock through his boxers as he stroked over it slowly, it twitching in his grip. Dan let out a breathy moan, as the boy on his laptop started to rub his cock through his jeans. Dan eventually figured out that he didn't need the porn. He needed Phil. But he couldn't just ask him. So, he closed the laptop and kept stroking up and down his cock, teasing at the head. His vision was blurry and his toes were curling, he hasnt fealt like this in a long time and he was the perfect mix of one half pleasure, and the other half 'My crush is in the room next to mine and could be listening to me masturbate right now." As dan went faster, and faster, precome started to stain his boxers. Didn't phil do laundry? Fuck, he didn't care. His body coarsed with pleasure, his stomach started tightning, and then phil walked across the hall. "Oh oh, fuck fuck, phil phil im-" Phil knocked. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Dan came with hot spurts inside of his sweatpants, a wet spot appearing on the front almost instantly. "o-oh shit," his voice shook as he wiped off his hand on his boxers, his cock not finished coming yet. "y-yeah?!" Dan shouted. "Are you alright? I heard you saying my name?" Phil spoke through the door, and dan blushed. His heartrate sped up horrendously and he spoke; "Uhm, Sorry! i was recording something for a video!" He sat up in his bed, his eyes still blurry from his orgasm. "Oh! Alright." So phil left. And Dan let out a breath, his heart slowing down. his thighs clamped together with a thought, What would've happend if phil had walked in?

#phan #phansmut #firstpost #smut #masturbationphan

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poly-bus · 6 years ago

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Krii7y : Kidnapped or Killed

Genre: Dark. That’s all I’m saying. With a Happy Ending of course.

Also it’s graphic~ Pretty much- John goes on a rampage for Smit.

AU: Gang/GTA

Enjoy.

~Podz

Cold, hard metal filled his mouth, nearly knocking a few teeth out in the process.

The rough tug on his hair sent a clear message; “Stand.”

Almost-blue eyes narrowed dully at the man with the gun, just who the fuck was this guy anyway?

“I’ll kill your fucking boyfriend, fuck boy. Stand. Up.”

John reluctantly stood from his knees, glaring at the fucker with the bandana covering half his face.

Green eyes stared back, filled with determination and hate.

“Whomf thu fwuck arh hya?”

He couldn’t speak around that damn gun in his mouth.

The man in front of him pulled it out and chuckled, narrowing his eyes before placing the barrel to John’s forehead, “What was that?”

John cleared his throat, a cough making it’s way through his rigid body, and spat the metallic oil from the gun’s barrel onto the ground, “Who the fuck are you?”

“You don’t remember me? You fucking owe me.”

John let the coughs tremble through his throat before speaking again, spitting on the ground again, “I don’t owe anyone, motherfucker. Who. Are. You.”

The man stifled a horrendous laugh, glancing over his shoulder for a second to wave someone over.

John ducked under the gun fast, bringing his arm up to the guy’s elbow, gripping his wrist with his other hand, before popping it out of place and turning him around.

He held his broken arm against his back and stole the gun from his hands, pointing the saliva-coated barrel to the stranger’s head.

“Where the fuck is Smitty”

The guy whimpered and screamed against John, clearly the newbie of his gang.

The man he had waved over was holding the brunette against his front with an ak47 against his side.

John’s eyes widened at the beaten black and blue face of his partner in crime.

“Sonsofbitches.”

“LET HIM GO, FUCKER.”

John pushed the guy forward, holding his arm with the gun off to his right and dropping the gun away from him.

Smit tried to stop the tears as he was pushed forward as well, landing on his front before being pulled onto his knees.

“Smit, fuck, are you-”

“Shut up, asshole. Here’s how this is gonna go, okay?”

The guy holding the ak was shaky, another newbie it seemed.

The green-eyed fucker with a broken arm stood to the best of his abilities and rushed to his group.

There were suddenly about seven of them, all wearing red and black bandanas as well as holding ak47s or pistols.

Three were shaky, this seemed to be their first heists. Losers.

John grunted, “What?”

“Your little twink here stole 50mg of heroine from our site! Give. it. back.”

John narrowed his eyes in confusion, “What the fuck are you talking about? Smitty won’t do drugs.”

Smit squirmed in his restraints as the guy clasped a hand on his shoulder.

To anger John further, he decided to add to the boy’s misery, “I’ve already hurt this kid and mentally scarred him, you’re next if I don’t get my fucking heroine back.”

The American fell easily into his trap, “Excuse me!? What the fuck did you do to Smitty!?”

Smit shook his head, a bandana shoved in between his lips to gag him from speaking.

John clenched his fists tight, “What. did. you. do. to. him!?”

“Let’s just say he’s a very disobedient twink, huh.”

The American quickly stooped low, kneeling on the ground as he raised the pistol from the ground.

A bullet shot forth into the fucker holding the ak47as he ran towards his partner in crime.

He stooped low, picking Smit up and shot a few more fucks who were currently aiming their guns at him.

One had a broken arm and no weapon, one was too shaky, three were dead, and the other two were too shocked to hit him.

Smit hung over his shoulder as he bounded for the park’s forest line.

The gang wouldn’t follow them out of their territory right?

He heard some shouting and glanced over to see three more joining the two shocked soldiers.

He let out a yell as his foot slipped on the soggy grass of the downhill and they rolled into the ditches below.

John felt the pistol slip from his grip as he smashed his hand against a few rocks, a groan leaping from his throat.

He sat up fast despite the pain, looking for his brunette partner again.

“S-Smit?”

He carefully stood, cradling his hand against his chest as he searched for the other.

He stepped closer to the tree line to see the bandana of red that was stuffed in his mouth lying near the trees.

He grinned, that meant Smit made it to the trees right?

John felt a hand clasp around his waist and yelped, turning before grinning some more.

Smit had gotten out of his bindings fast enough, the duct tape disregarded in the gross waters of the ditch.

He had a bloody nose, a few cuts covering his right cheek and a few bruises on his cheek and forehead from the butt of a gun.

He wrapped his arms around the other, injured hand aching in retaliation.

A few shouts overhead had them stirring through the trees once more, rushing to blend in with the usual crowds of the park.

They weaved through the trees to avoid the stable, fast bullets of the machine guns and pistols that rained towards them.

John glanced over his shoulder once the bullets had slowed a bit, eyes training as the soldiers themselves stooped low in the ditches.

He glanced back to Smit and tackled the other into one of the bushes, “We’ll never outrun them, let them pass...”

Smit nodded, rolling over so he was straddling John and they were deeper in the prickly bushes.

Smit laid low in the shrubbery, head tucked in the other’s neck as he kept his bruised arms near the other’s head.

Their breaths mixed in the air as they attempted to listen for leaf-crunching footsteps.

John counted the minutes that passed, his paranoia settled in as he gripping Smit closer by his waist.

He let a whisper slip through, not bothering to filter his mouth, “Did they rape you? Be honest with me, Smitty...”

The brunette scoffed, “No, they didn’t. I would have gotten plenty more wounds from attacking back if they had.”

John narrowed his eyes and the other rolled his own.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to John’s lips, pulling back and offering a reassuring smile, “They didn’t, I promise.”

The footsteps never came closer to them, they stayed at the forest line before retreating with grunts of disapproval and annoyed shouts.

John quickly rolled over so he was on top, pressing a quick kiss to Smit’s nose before standing.

He held out a hand and helped the other up, leading him into the park center square and grinning as he spotted their apartment from this point.

“Welcome back home, Smit.”

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