#so i notice these things then get the urge to post about them lol

[lunabug2004]

Something that is kinda strange to me is the fact that in s1 ep7 we don't see Mike's reactions to anything that's happening when El is in the isolation pool. We see clips of Jonathan, Nancy, Hop, Lucas, and Dustin just reacting and then Joyce helping comfort El, but absolutely nothing of Mike the whole time despite knowing he's sitting right beside Jonathan. (Which now that I think about it, is weird placement for him but 🤷‍♀️)

I just wish they'd shown him reacting to El freaking out since he cares so much for (and is supposedly in-like with) her at this point, or to Will talking over the radio since he wants to find him so badly and was the first of the kids to believe he was still alive (and he just got confirmation of his kindergarten crush best friend being not dead). But what do I know?

I don't think it means or implies anything specific, it's just something weird I noticed and figured I'd share.

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

[koolades-world]

So, request for the Obey me boys (main and side). When I'm emotionally stressed or overwhelmed, I get the urge to clean (especially if my space has been needing it). So, how would they react to an MC spontaniously cleaning anything and everything in that sort of state (Dishes, Floors, surfaces, their own room, etc)?

hi! sure thing!

i relate to this on such a deep level. it's when i get my best cleaning done LOL. having a crisis? suddenly the room is the best it's looked in months

posting this instead of spellbound because getting my car took much longer than I expected. spellbound will be tomorrow for sure :)

enjoy <3

Mc who spontaneously cleans

Lucifer

he may just have to marry you on the spot

his brothers aren’t exactly the cleanest bunch and sometimes he feels like he’s the only one making an effort

he might cry if he comes downstairs one morning and the kitchen is sparkling

Mammon

if he’s not the messiest bitch ever… no shade but there’s no way his room doesn’t look like it was hit by a tornado

however if he ever sees you cleaning he'll try his best to help

he will also try his best to keep things tidy to make it less work for you <3

Levi

I can’t explain it but something about him screams neat freak to me

but, this only applies to his spaces because it would be too much work

he applauded your efforts because more than once he’s cracked and just deep cleaned everything haha

Satan

he’s clean when he wants to be

and most of the time, he is. the only times he isn’t is to piss off lucifer even though he’s just going to drag him back to do it anyways

after seeing how hard you work, he never does that again haha. he would hate for you to have to pick up after him

Asmo

somehow clean but messy at the same time

he won't stop you if you want to go to town cleaning up his makeup pallets and what not

afterwards though he makes sure to treat you <3

Beel

definitely the guy that takes three plus showers a day lol

he always asks you to make sure he's picking up after himself though just in case

he appreciates you and everything you do :)

Belphie

if you think he's tidy, i am so sorry you are wrong haha

will complain about an area being dirty and then proceed to ask why you were cleaning it up

however he will thank you every time he notices you've tidied up :)

Diavolo

despite the fact that he has a whole team that cleans for him, he hates to leave behind a mess

so, he always insists you get him when you get the urge to clean

everything is better when you have someone by your side! besides, he'll take any excuse to be by your side

Barbatos

you know him, he’s incredibly tidy to the point that it’s almost impossible to find a mess in the demon lord’s palace

but in the rare cause you’ve beat him to it, he’s grateful since it’s rare he gets help

afterward, you’ll be having tea together, his treat

Simeon

he also seems like his things are always clean no matter what

it's almost like he's magic at the rate at which messes vanish

he will feel bad if he sees you cleaning, and will take over

Luke

both of his dads (simebarb sorry for kinda sneaking this narrative in here lol) are both neat people, so it only makes sense for him to be too

after all, he wants to be just like them!

if he catches you cleaning, he will instantly join in

Solomon

he seems like he would live realistically, not too dirty, but also not too clean

if things are a little cluttered, he's alright with it because it looks lived in

if you do spontaneously clean, he'll try his best to make it up to you with his cooking!!

[earthtooz]

x : ABUNDANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: rin doesn’t know when to stop spoiling you and you don't know how to stop him either.

warnings: rich pro-athlete!rin, gn!reader- reader wears lip gloss and perfume but i am an avid believer that they are gn, rin is dramatic (tm), fluff, swearing. 1.6k wc

a/n: rin is a clown in my eyes LMFAO no but this was kinda self-indulgent and i just can't stray too far from itoshi rin before he inevitably pulls me back. haven't written anything for him in a while so it feels good to be back to my roots. also no i'm not off break lol i did say that i was still gonna write and come back to post hehe. ENJOY!! rbs appreciated !!

itoshi rin doesn’t know when to stop spoiling you.

and you didn’t know how to get him to stop spoiling you. you could never resist his presents no matter what shape or size, whether they were little nendoroids of your favourite anime characters to the latest designer bags, you would always accept them with a grateful smile. 

however, there’s always a tug of guilt at your chest that makes you little hesitant, not wanting rin to waste unnecessary money on you. yet whenever you make this feeling known to rin, he scoffs and waves your concerns off, ending the conversation there as he urges you to open his presents, more concerned about your reaction than how much money is being extracted from his account.

what’s the point of money if he can’t spoil you with it? that’s always been his philosophy. besides, it’s not like you’re forcing him to, so what’s the big deal?

if there was a certain brand of perfume you wanted, he was going to buy it. if you needed a bigger monitor then he’ll buy it. if you needed a streaming platform to watch a certain show on then he’d buy it too, not a problem. in fact, you’re sure rin is funding the spotify premium for your account because he got tired of all the ads he had to listen to when sharing headphones with you. 

despite rin’s insistence that he was more than okay to spend money on you, it didn’t stop the growing feeling of guilt festering in your gut. so eventually you stopped bringing up things you wanted to buy in front of rin, leaving to write them down in your notes app instead.

the pro-athlete doesn’t question the abrupt lack of complaints about things you needed to buy, leaving him blissfully unaware of the things you had been buying for yourself and him. 

this dance continues for a little and it’s not until date night three weeks later that he figures you out. you never stood a chance against rin’s perceptiveness especially when one of his favourite things to do was watch you get ready for said date nights, leaving it only a matter of time before he’d realise,

“looking gorgeous as always,” he compliments whilst walking up to stand behind you, dressed handsomely in a crisp suit with his hair swept sideways- a hairstyle he began to wore more often when he realised how often you stared at him during a boring sponsorship event which turned out a lot more eventful thanks to the simple hair change.

you smile at him in the mirror as rin places a kiss on the side of your head, hand going to your hip before situating himself on the bed, glancing down at his watch to check that you were still on time for the dinner reservation.

when he looks back up at you, his eyes zero in on the foreign lipgloss you were holding in your hands and the small smile rin wore falls into a scowl. rin knows he didn’t get that for you, and judging from the sleekness of the packaging, it looks new. he withholds his suspicions, brushing them off.

alarms blare in rin’s head again when he notices the foreign highlighter in your hands. contrarily, you remain ignorant to rin’s inquisitive stare as you lean in close to the mirror to apply the product, too used to the usual intensity of his gaze to bat an eye. 

the last straw is the perfume you use, spritzing it on your wrists, behind your ears and neck, doing a little fanning motion with your hands once you were done.

“okay, i’m ready, let’s go before we’re lat-” you say, turning around to look at rin, cutting yourself off when you notice the look of distraught on his face. “what’s the matter?”

walking over to where he sat, you leisurely lay your forearms on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek whilst doing so. the smell of your foreign perfume enters his nose and although it was a very nice and charming scent, the athlete’s nose scrunches in displeasure, eyebrows furrowing further. 

“do i have something on my face?” you ask, backing away. rin grabs your hands before you can stray too far. 

“no, not that,” he puts your hands on his shoulders again. “did you always have this lipgloss? and i don’t recognise this perfume.”

“oh, i bought it not too long ago.” 

he looks at you as though you’ve committed the most blasphemous offence against him, which, you did. “excuse me?”

“i bought it?” you reaffirm, a lilt of confusion in your tone. 

rin narrows his eyes, combating your confusion with scrutiny. “you bought it.” you nod. “with your own money?”

“duh.”

he exhales loudly through his nose and you can feel the judgement oozing off him. “no that’s not right. i have to fix this.”

abruptly swapping your positions so that you were now sitting on the bed, rin disappears into the bathroom, emerging with a pack of makeup removers before sifting through your numerous products, that look of concentration never leaving his face.

“we’re gonna be late, rin,” you say from where he planted you, watching helplessly as your boyfriend approaches to stand in front of you, crouching down to be eye level with you. rin takes out a wipe from the packet before gently rubbing it on your lips, touch contrastingly gentle to his fiery gaze. 

“don’t care. this is more important.” 

rin fiddles with the highlighter that he bought for you, opening it cautiously and using the same brush you always use as he carefully paints your skin with the glitter. it amazes you just how observant rin is as he traces all the spots correctly, knowing you down to of the most insignificant, tiny details.

he does the same with the lip gloss, opening the familiar bottle before putting a luxurious amount of the product over your lips. you don’t complain about it, not when rin’s nose scrunches in concentration and not when he makes a disgruntled noise because he overlined the lip gloss, wiping it from the corner of your mouth.

nevertheless, when rin pulls away, he admires his handiwork with a content grin, the scowl now fading. “much better,” he mumbles, grinning slightly. before you could say anything though, the athlete stumbles away to put your makeup away, returning with a bottle of perfume that he also bought for you.

“do not spray that on me. the scents will clash,” you threaten. rin blinks at you before grabbing your wrist, spritzing a small amount before repeating the same step on your other pulse points.

his actions were sweet and you understood that rin had good intentions, but through the endearment you felt for your lover, there is an undeniable feeling of dejection settling within you. “i liked the products that i bought,” you murmur, tone slightly downcast as you express your thoughts. “i like using my own money sometimes too, rin.” 

the smile rin wore falls ever so slightly as he looks at your somewhat-dejected form, crouching in front of you instinctively as to get a better glance at your face. 

“i feel horrible whenever you use your money on me. especially on things that are way too expensive and way out of my budget. i don’t want people- i don’t want you to get the wrong idea of us,” you confess the last part breathily, rubbing your arms awkwardly. “and i hate feeling like i owe something to you.”

“hey, you know that will never happen, we’re not like that,” he rubs a hand on your knee reassuringly. “i buy things for you because i know, and don’t talk about this lukewarm shit about ‘owing’ me. if anything i owe you for putting up with me.”

you let his words sink in with a sigh, focusing on the warmth of rin’s palm. 

“and i also buy things for you because you only deserve the best. none of that mediocre crap that anybody can buy.” 

“but what if i like the ‘lukewarm shit’?”

“then you need better tastes, but i guess i have no choice but to buy it for you.” he stands up ever so slightly to kiss you.

you back away, cutting him off with a press of your finger against his lips. “rin. no.” 

he gives you a withering glare for denying his affection. 

“that’s not the point. as much as i love and appreciate it when you do buy things for me, i would also appreciate it if you let me use my own money too.” 

the soccer player backs away, eyes scanning your expression to decide on what to say next. he sighs when he sees the determination in your face and like a dam giving out, it’s the first sign of rin’s stubbornness surrendering to your pleas.  “fine, i’ll respect your choice, but it doesn’t mean that i like it.”

you grin, pulling him back in for the kiss he wanted earlier, catching rin off guard briefly before his shock subsides, letting him melt right into you. your lipgloss was now effectively ruined but you didn’t have it in you to care much. rin could always reapply it for you. 

“but i’m paying for dinner,” he asserts against your mouth. 

“deal.”

you return home tomorrow to see the same products you bought for yourself on your shared bed. except brand new and still in their sleek packages. 

what were you going to do with rin?

[arlana-likes-to-write]

You Look Happier

Part 4 of the Family, Pawns, and Sins of the Family

Summary: After every thing you've been though, it's time to move forward. While doing just that you run into a unlikely friend that looks past the scars you bare.

Warning: panic attack, mention of past abuse, suicidal thoughts, fluff, Kamala is a joy and I love her, small scene of a guy grabbing the reader, mention of nightmares, facing past abusers in court.

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Ignore the fact that I said the next chapter of Second Chance will be posted today, I finished this one shot instead lol. Also, this will probably be the last part of this!

*

Healing was not linear. If this whole experience taught you one thing, it was that. Some days were good. They were great. You smiled and laughed without restraint. Those good days bleed into good weeks. Then, the darkness over your shoulder would rear its ugly head. All your hard work to overcome everything seemed pointless when you couldn’t leave your bed and your moms stayed by your side out of fear you would hurt yourself. There were close calls. The overwhelming urge sometimes became too much. You wanted to feel anything besides their hands on you.

Tonight was the end of a terrible day. You shut down after your therapy appointment. The mid-afternoon nap you took was ruined by a nightmare, and the court called, and they needed you to testify against Principal Cook. It was not your day. Still, you managed to pull yourself out of bed when the Avengers came over for a cookout. You sat at the fire pit with a marshmallow on the end of the stick. The flames engulfed the sticky treat and fell into the fire. Sighing, you blew out the flame and leaned back into the chair. You pulled the blanket to your chin and watched the get-together.

“Hey bug,” Natasha slid next to you. The chair was big enough for you two to sit comfortably without touching it, but you folded it against her. You buried your face in her shoulder and felt her hand draw shapes on your back. “How are you feeling?” Lying was never an option when they asked you this question. They would rather have the brutal, honest truth than a lie. It was a hard thing to overcome in the beginning.

“I’m,” Tired. Sad. Angry. “Struggling.” You sighed.

“Yeah,” Natasha kissed your forehead. “Today was a lot.” You nodded against her.

“Have you heard from the lawyers?” It was Natasha’s turn to sigh and kiss your forehead again.

“Not yet. They are talking with Cook’s defense team and hoping the man will take a plea deal.” You nodded and closed your eyes. The constant motion and her soft humming almost sent you to sleep. “Your mama and I have to go to the tower tomorrow. Is it okay to have your therapy session online?” The other thing was they refused to let you stay home alone on terrible days. It made sense. Through all of this, they wanted you to be safe.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “That’s fine.” There was no need to open your eyes because you knew there was a smile on her face.

“I love you, our firefly.”

“I love you too, mom.”

*

Today was better. Your therapist let you discuss your relationship with Wanda, Natasha, and the twins. It was a breath of fresh air to talk about something positive. The two Avengers were still in their meeting, so you waited for them on the common floor. It was half your fault. You were looking at your phone when a body slammed into you, causing you and your phone to fall to the ground. “Are you okay? Is your phone okay? Do you have a concussion?” You blinked at the girl with long brown hair and bright brown eyes. “Oh my god, I’ve concussed you.” She cried, placing her hands on top of her head.

“I’m not-wait. Who are you?”

“I’m Kamala Khan,” she offered you her hand, which you took to stand up.

“I’m-”

“Oh, I know who you are. Peter won’t stop talking about you. He says, You’re super cool.”

“I’m-” broken. Hurt. Sad. “Okay,” she laughed, and the sound erupted butterflies in your stomach. You noticed you were still holding her hand, and you dropped it suddenly. “Sorry,” you whispered. She smiled, picked up your phone, and looked it over.

“It’s not broken. I would have hated it if I gave you a concussion and broke your phone.” you were surprised by the laugh that you let out. It only made Kamala’s smile grow. “Here you go.”

“You should put your number in it,” a surge of confidence washed through you. Her eyebrows went up. “I mean, you did assault me. I think you owe me,” her mouth opened and closed like a fish. It was cute.

“I see why Peter likes you,” she said, handing you the phone so you could open it, and she quickly put her number on it. “I have to run-”

“Hopefully, not into someone again,” you said with a playful smile. She rolled her eyes.

“But I’ll see you again. Text me so I can have your number, too.” You waved bye as she ran off. Flopping onto the couch, you sent Kamala a simple hello with your name. For some reason, your cheeks were hurting from your smile.

*

You giggled at the funny meme Kamala sent you of Yelena and Kate that she made. You befriended the girl three days ago, and her goal seemed to make you smile. Even after a tough day at therapy, you were welcomed with messages from her that made it better. “Alright, enough,” your phone was ripped away from you. You gasped as you watched Yelena go through your phone. “You’ve been giggling all night. Who are you texting?”

“Mama, tell her to give me my phone back,” Wanda chuckled, standing over the stove to make dinner.

“Give her the phone back, Belova,” the witch laughed. “But I am curious who has got you smiling so much.” Yelena refused to give you the phone.

“First off, you’ve met Kamala,” she handed Wanda your phone. Instead of looking through it like the Black Widow, she returned it to you. “Second, I am going to kill her.” You smiled.

“We ran into each other at the tower,” you texted her, letting her know Yelena saw the memes she made. “Literally,” you mumbled. Every time you thought about how you met your new friend, you laughed. This was amplified when Kamala responded, saying you betrayed her trust.

“Hey,” Yelena snapped her fingers in front of your face. You jumped, not expecting it. “Your mama was talking to you.” The Blonde rolled her eyes and left the kitchen.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “What were you saying?” Wanda smiled with a shake of the head.

“I said dinner is almost ready. Can you go wash up and get your brothers?” You nodded and closed the book you were trying to read, but you were distracted by your phone. “And sweetheart,” you stopped to look at Wanda. “She’s making you smile a lot. Is there more going on?” You felt your body heat up.

“N-no,” you stuttered. “We are just friends,” Wanda smirked. “Mama, we are.”

“Okay, I’m just teasing,” you huffed and walked to your room. You dropped your textbooks and notebooks on your desk. Friends. That was all you and Kamala were. Nothing more. Right?

*

You were nervous as you stood outside Natasha’s home office. You could do this. You could do this. Knocking the door, you heard her voice on the other side telling you to come in. You entered and closed the door. “Hey bug, what -” she stopped mid-question. “Are you okay? You look like you are going to be sick.” Instead of answering, you walked to the front of her desk.

“Can I ask you something?” Natasha nodded, the worry evident on her face. “Can I go to the movies?” The Black Widow blinked at once, twice.

“Jesus, kid, you were about to give me a heart attack,” she let out a shaky breath and placed her hand on her chest for added effect. “Who would you be going with?”

“Uh Kamala,” you played with the fidget ring Yelena gave you after they saved you from Dmitri. “She and a few of her friends are in the city, and they invited me to see Detention Disaster with them.” It was a comedy. You looked at an in-depth review of it, so you knew nothing would trigger you.

“Are you sure? That’s a big step,” you knew what she meant. You rarely went anywhere besides the tower, the park down the street, and your brother’s school. Natasha and Wanda were with you even if you went somewhere outside your comfort zone.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, but you wouldn’t grow or heal if you stayed constant. “But I’d like to try.”

*

“That scene in the cafeteria was so funny,” Bruno said as he walked next to Nakia. “And it was shot so well,” Kamala chuckled and shook her head at her friend.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” She asked you. You were walking behind Bruno and Nakia.

“Yeah, it was funny.” Even after reading the very in-depth review, the movie still managed to make you laugh. Also, the comments Kamala and Bruno made to one another throughout the entire movie added another layer of comedy. They thought they were being quiet. Still, they walked no matter how often Nakia threw popcorn at them. You liked Kamala’s friends, who included you in their group.

“Hey, there is an arcade over here. Do you guys want to go?” Bruno asked. He stopped walking so you could catch up. The arcade was loud and unpredictable. There were too many things to account for.

“It’s up to you,” Kamala said. I can take you back home.” Home was safe and predictable—well, your brothers were not, but they knew your boundaries. But you shook your head.

“An arcade sounds fun,” you said. Today was good, and you wanted to keep hanging out with them. If they wanted to go to an arcade, then you would go no matter how much anxiety swirled in your stomach.

Luckily, it wasn’t busy. A small group of kids was at the basketball game, and some were looking at the prizes through the glass box. You bought a card with your tokens, and Kamala grabbed your hand to show you all her favorite games. You were worried that she thought you were clingy, but she kept a tight hold on you. Playing video games with your brothers helped you with some of the games. You beat Kamala on some of the two-player games.

It was fun, and you pretended you were a normal kid for a split second. No deep trauma that kept you awake at night. No scars that ached when it got cold. You were a kid having fun with her friends.

Until you walked alone as you decided on the next game, you needed a few more tickets and could get a new fidget toy. Suddenly, you felt a body crash against your back, and you stumbled forward. Your first thought of who it was was Kamala. For an Avenger, she was very clumsy. “Hey, watch where the fuck you are going,” you turned around to see a guy; he had to be 18.

“You ran into me,” you said. “You should listen to your advice.” You turned away, but he grabbed your arm and spun you back around. He pushed you against the arcade machine. The corner dug into your lower back, and you let out a pained yelp. Fear washed over you. His mouth was moving, but nothing he said mattered to you. It was happening again. Why? You felt frozen. The way his hands felt on you transported you to Jason, Conner, and Dmitri. Then, a new pair of hands were touching you.

“Hey, Y/n,” the voice said. “You’re safe. I need you to breathe for me.” Your chest felt tight, and it was impossible to get air into your lungs. “What do you need?”

“Hands,” you managed. “Get your hands off of me.” They were removed instantly, and you slid down to the ground, bringing your knees to your chest.

“You know you missed me kicking Bruno’s ass in basketball,” it was Kamala. Kamala was in front of you. “I mean, I was cheating, but don’t tell him that.” You managed a chuckle, which Kamala smiled. “Are you back with me?” You nodded, licking your dry lips. “Bruno and Nakia brought that guy to the manager, and he’s calling the police.” Again, you nodded. “Do you want me to call your parents?”

“No,” you finally spoke. The reality of the situation caught up with you, and embarrassment washed over you. You jumped to your feet. “Shit, sorry that was-”

“Whoa,” Kamala stood up slowly with her hand sup. “It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” But you did, and if you just walked away from him, none of this would have happened. “No matter what happened, he should have never put his hands on you.” You nodded again. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more private.” She let you go to a small back room used for birthday parties. You were grateful she kept her hands to herself when she opened the door. You slumped in one of the chairs and placed your face in your hands. You heard Kamala sit in front of you. “Are you okay?” She finally asked. You sighed.

“I wanted today to be good and normal,” you said. “But it’s like one step forward and four steps back.”

“Isn’t that the point?” You removed your hands and looked at her. “Healing. Some days are better than others. It’s how it is,” she carefully took your hand, and you allowed her to. “And today was fun. I had fun hanging out with you.”

“I had fun, too,” you admitted. She smiled.

“These things will happen,” she continued. “And that is okay. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I will be there to help you. If you want me to, at least,” she added quickly. You smiled.

“As long as I don’t scare you off.”

“You could never,” she spoke with so much confidence, and without hesitation, you almost believed her.

Delete Created with Sketch.

Today was a bad day. You had to go down to the courthouse to prepare for your testimony against Principal Cool. He wasn’t there, but you had to relive the whole ordeal. After that, Billy and Tommy begged to get ice cream. However, a man mistook you for someone else and grabbed you by the arm. The cherry on top was Kamala was on a mission with Carol. You missed the way she could make you smile and laugh.

It was past midnight. No matter how many times you tried to go to bed, every horrible thing flashed through your mind. Your phone buzzing caused you to jump, not expecting a phone call. Somehow, just seeing her name made you smile. It felt like your first genuine smile all day. “Hi,” you answered softly.

“Did I wake you up? I am so sorry. I can never figure out what time zone I’m in,” you giggled and rolled onto your back.

“No, I’ve been up. What are you doing calling me?” you asked. “I thought you said it was impossible to find cell service up there.” She was quiet, but you heard shuffling as if she was lying down.

“We usually can’t, but we found some. So Carol is calling Val, Monica is calling her mom, and I’m calling you.” Oh. That was a surprise.

“Why are you calling me?” She had her parents, brother, and her high school friends.

“Because I wanted to silly,” she answered. “Now, why can’t you sleep? Are you okay?”

“I’m,” Kamala knew bits and pieces of what happened to you. You strayed away from the more graphic details. It wasn’t easy to open up to your therapist. “I’m,” you sighed. “I miss you,” you admitted instead. Sometimes, it was easier to change the direction of the conversation.

“Awe, I miss you too,” you heard the smile in her voice. “I’ll be home soon, but you failed to answer my question.” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m tired,” you pushed the calm of your hand to your eye. And you were. You wanted to move past all of this and live a normal life.

“Get some sleep. I-shit. I’m sorry, I have to go. Carol needs me.” You were lucky she couldn’t see you, or she would have seen your frown. “Look, if you need anything, you call me, okay? I may not respond right away, but I’m here.” You nodded.

“Stay safe, superhero.”

“Always.”

*

Soft knocking woke you up. Slowly, you sat up and looked towards the sound. “Kamala,” you whispered. The girl was smiling on the other side of your window. You climbed over to it and opened it. “What are you doing?” She smiled.

“To see you. Can I come in? It’s cold,” you stepped out of the way, and she crawled through the window. It was a little clumsy. Her foot got caught on the window ledge. A small yelp, and she rolled off your bed and onto the floor. You cringed at the sound and were grateful that your room was on the first floor. Soon, your room was filled with laughter.

“Are you okay?” You closed the window. Kamala nodded and rubbed the back of her head.

“My pride took a hit,” you giggled and helped her. “Hi,” she smiled and sat down on your bed.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”

“Well,” she took off her shoes. “The mission is almost over, and Carol doesn’t need me, so she said I could go home.” You raised her eyebrows at her.

“The last time I checked, this isn’t your house,” she said, looking around the room with a confused expression.

“You know, I thought my room looked a little different. There are not enough Captain Marvel posters,” you rolled your eyes. Besides, Carol may not need me, but you do,” you looked at the ground. Kamala placed her arm around your shoulders. That’s okay, you know that? It’s okay to need people.” You shrugged.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you whispered. “You are an Avenger. You have more important things to worry about than someone as broken as me.” Kamala removed her arm and forced you to sit more on the bed. You crossed your legs to give her more room. She grabbed your hands.

“You are not broken. You are healing. That is a big difference. Soon, all these scars will heal,” you stared at your connected hands.

“What if whatever they broke inside me can never be fixed?” Kamala was quiet. She moved your hands so your palms were facing up. Her fingers were arms as she traced the lines on your hand.

“Then you learn to live without those parts,” she bite her lip. “When I discovered the true nature of my abilities, the old me was gone. I had to embrace the person I am now. It’s scary, terrifying really, but you have your family to help you,” she squeezes your hands. “You have me.” You looked at her, and she had a soft smile.

“Can you stay the night?” You whispered.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” you stood up to get some clothes to change into. Once she was ready for bed, you climbed under the covers with her next to you. “For what it’s worth,” she broke the silence. “I think you are pretty great.” You bent your arm to rest your head on your hand. She was lying on her back.

“You think I’m pretty, superhero,” she rolled her eyes and mirrored the way you were laying.

“What if I did?” You raised your eyebrows in question. “I think you are pretty.”

“Oh,” you squeaked and cringed at the nose that escaped. “Scars and all?” You questioned.

“They are kind of badass,” she said. “Makes you all hot with the ladies.” She wiggled her eyebrows. You chuckled and pushed the girl on her shoulder. She fell onto her back.

“You are such a flirt.” You said.

“Just for you, khobsurat,” you titled your head at the foreign word. “It’s Urdu.”

“What does it mean?” You questioned. Kamala faced you.

“Beautiful.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted. You were never in a normal relationship. Everyone wanted something from you. Everyone tried to hurt you. “I’ve been hurt by so many people that promised not to.” Your biological parents used you to get money. Jason promised to love you. Principal Cook and Coach Griffo were hired to protect students. They all hurt you.

“I can’t promise I won’t mess things up because I’m an idiot,” you smiled. “I can be aggressively passionate, overwhelming, and loud, but I will never hurt you like they hurt you.” You nodded, looking down at the shapes on your blanket. “You don’t believe me.” You wanted to. You tried to jump head first, but you weren’t sure if your heart could handle any more heartbreak. It was already bruised, bandaged, and broken.

“I want to. It’s just-”

“Hard?” Kamala guessed. You nodded. “That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” she yawned, covering her mouth. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“Get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” She nodded and closed her eyes.

“Night, khobsurat,” she whispered. Was it weird that you watched her fall asleep? Maybe. But you liked how peaceful she looked. You weren’t sure when the last peaceful night of sleep you had. You were a little jealous. Sighing, you turned to your side and hoped for a nightmare-free sleep.

*

The sound of thundering footsteps woke you up. It was your only warning before your door opened, the force almost falling off the handles. “Breakfast - hey, what are you doing here, Kamala?” You heard the girl behind you groan. Sometime in the middle of the night, you gravitated towards each other. Her arm is secured around your waist. It wasn’t an uncomfortable position. You only allowed your parents and sometimes your brothers to cuddle you.

“Not sleeping,” she mumbled. Her breath caused goosebumps on your skin. That was uncomfortable. Your mind flashed back to every time someone held you down, breathing against your neck. You tensed up. “Hey, are you okay?” You shook your head.

“Mom!” Billy yelled. “Y/n has a friend over that she didn’t ask permission ,and she’s having a panic attack.”

“Billy,” you hissed, but your brother ran off. Kamala removed her arm and created some healthy distance between you and her. You needed some space, not your brother getting Natasha and announcing you were having a panic attack, which you weren’t. Now, the hurried footsteps were from the Black Widow.

“Is she going to kill me?” You heard Kamala whisper as Natasha slowed down. That was a great question you weren’t 100% sure about.

“Kamala, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”

“Well, you see, Mrs. Romanoff,” Kamala said slowly. “I requested to leave my mission early because she seemed upset.” Your head whipped around to look at her.

“You told me your mission was almost over, and Carol didn’t need you anyone.” Her eyes widened, frantically looking between you and the Russian.

“I did say that, didn’t I? It was a white lie,” she said. “I knew if I told you the truth, you would make me go back, and you sounded so sad on the phone,” she held up her hands, almost to defend herself. “Carol knows the truth, and she approved it. I couldn’t lie to her,” she pointed to Natasha. “She scares me more than you,” she whispered. Her comment made you laugh, but you were still angry at her even though her heart was in the right place. Natasha scuffed.

“I scare you now. Is that so?” You looked at your mom. Her arms were crossed, and she was leaning against the doorway.

“No, ma’am, Mrs. Black Widow, sir.” You laughed so hard that you snorted, which sent Kamala into a fit of laughter. Natasha had a soft smile on her face.

“Breakfast is ready, girls. Come on,”

“Thanks, Mom,” the Black Widow nodded and walked back towards the direction of the kitchen, not bothering to close the door. Kamala let out a shaky breath and slumped back into the mattress. “I can’t believe you lied to me.” You pinched her side, and the girl yelped.

“It was for a good reason,” you rolled your eyes. “Are you telling me if I told you the truth, you’d let me stay?” There was no good reason you had. “Exactly,” she pinched your side back. “How did you sleep?” She sat up and stretched her arms above her head.

“Good, actually,” your mind was blank; no nightmare woke you up.

“Good,” she climbed out of the bed. “Come on. I’m hungry. Your superhero needs food,” she rubbed her stomach.

“My superhero?” She winked at you.

“I like the sound of that,” she teased and grabbed your hand. You were a little stunned, but you led her to the kitchen, where the rest of your family was. My superhero, you liked the sound of it, too.

*

“I’d like to call Y/n Romanoff-Maximoff as my first witness to the stand,” the prosecutor said your name, and your stomach still dropped. This moment was what you were preparing weeks for. All you had to do was take the stand, tell the truth, and be free. Easy minus facing Principal Cook and the side full of his supporters. But you weren’t alone either. Every Avenger that was not on a mission seemed to be there; even the Bartons made the trip to the city. Still, you felt frozen in your seat. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder squeeze it.

“We are right here, bug,” Natasha whispered. “Eyes on us the entire time.” You nodded and forced yourself to stand up. The prosecutor smiled at you as you passed her and headed for the witness stand. You tried to keep your eyes on your section. Even when the Bible was brought over to you so you could swear the truth and nothing but the truth. But you were curious, so your eyes flickered to his defense team. His lawyer was whispering to him, but Cook was watching you. The man smiled and gave you a little wave. You looked away immediately, eyes scanning your section until you found Kamala. She smiled, and the weight on your chest disappeared. You let out a shaky breath. You could do this. You could do this.

*

“I am so proud of you,” Wanda said for what felt like the 10th time once the trial ended. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“Alright, darling,” Natasha smiled. “Don’t hog her. She’s got other people to thank for coming.” With a sigh, she let you go. You made your way around the large group right outside the courthouse. You thanked everyone for their support and tried to ignore the press taking your picture. Kamala was the last person you went up to. Immediately, you slumped into her arms.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Are you ready to go home?” You nodded against her. She took your hand and led you to your parent’s car. There was no need to say goodbye as everyone was invited to the house for a small party. It was your one request to do after the trial. You wanted everyone close by for a gentle reminder you weren’t alone.

Once again, you found yourself at the fire pit as you watched the party. Kamala sat down next to you and handed you a plate of food. “Are your parents enjoying themselves?” You saw them talking with Natasha and Wanda. They weren’t at the trail; they stayed at the house to set everything up.

“They are. I hope you are ready to hear many stories of when I was a baby,” you smiled and took a bite of your hamburger. “You know Yelena gave me the shovel talk,” your eyes widened. You knew when the Blonde found out you were dating Kamala; it was only a matter of time before the ‘talk’ happened. “It was nothing bad. She did not threaten bodily harm,” you laughed, a little surprised, and sipped your water. “She did make me promise something.”

“Are you going to tell me what that promise was?” Yelena was with the Bartons. Nate was handing on her back with his arms around her neck. She caught you staring and winked at you.

“She told me this has been the happiest she’s seen you,” you looked at the girl next to you. She was looking forward, but you saw her eyes flick to you. It wasn’t the first time you heard that statement. You look happier. Everyone said it in their way. “Is that true? Do you feel happier?” It was a complicated question because there were days you were on cloud nine. Others felt it impossible to move forward. But she made it better.

“Yeah, I am,” you admitted. “So, what promise did you make to her?” She took her free hand in yours.

“Just to keep you happy,” she kissed your cheek. “And you know how much I love making you smile.” You rolled your eyes and felt your body warm up.

“Hey, lovebirds,” you heard Kate yell. “I think you should cool off.” You gasped as the cool water drenched you and Kamala. You ignored Kamala’s laughter and looked at who was responsible: your brother, the Bartons, and Peter.

“Tommy, Billy, I’m going to kill you.”

“Awe, why?” Tommy whined. “It wasn’t just us.” That was true, but you had a free pass to bully them.

“Besides, it was mom’s idea,” your head snapped to look at the Black Widow, who was now with her sister and Laura. She was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Give me your water gun,” you said to Billy. Your brother looked at you, then Natasha.

“I’ll speak kindly at your funeral, soldier,” he saluted you and handed you the water gun. You placed your now ruined food on Kamala’s plate.

“Khobsurat,” she stood up and grabbed your hand. “Are you sure about this? You have a lot of life to live.”

“Oh my god, guys,” you laughed. “I’ll be fine.” Well, you hopped anyway. Besides, you knew Wanda wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You were secretly her favorite. You pumped the water gun and looked at the Black Widow. She shook her head and mouthed ‘no.’ You winked at her and used your powers to turn invisible. Since the Avengers saved you from Dmitri, you rarely used your powers. Besides the occasional training session Natasha and Wanda put you through. You were grateful for that; what they taught you kept you alive. It felt good to use your powers for fun.

You watched the Black Widow walk over to Wanda and wrap her arms around her waist. She was talking with Maria and Sam. Clever or suicide to use the witch as a shield, but it would not stop you. Carefully, you walked closer to them. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” Wanda asked. Natasha placed her head on her shoulder.

“Can I not love on my beautiful wife?” The witch narrowed her eyes at her.

“Who did you piss off?” You slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sound of your laughter. Wanda glanced around the yard. “Get off of me.” But Natasha held onto her tighter. “Natalia Alianovna Romanova, I will not be your shield because you messed with our enhanced daughter.” Sam laughed, throwing his head back.

“You got your full government name,” he teased. You are in the dog house.” The Black Widow pouted, but her arms remained locked around Wanda.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Wanda’s voice echoed in your head. Usually, it would scare you. Now, it was a calming presence when you felt her magic enter your mind.

‘Sorry, mama,’ You appeared behind Natasha and unleashed your water onto her back. Natasha gasped and moved Wanda to take some of it. You stopped immediately but still got her wet. You cringed. “That was not my fault,” you said. The witch sighed.

“I know,” Red Magic took the water gun out of your hands. “Run Romanoff.” The Black Widow’s eyes were filled with fear, and you laughed as she took off towards Tommy, who threw his water gun at her. Yes, you were happier—all thanks to them.

[arachniee]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ “I’m Their Cure!”

༘✿ Synopsis: Unfortunately, you’ve fallen ill. You didn't tell your lover as you didn’t want to be a burden, so you decided to just let your friend take care of you. And trust me, your boyfriend was NOT having it.

༘✿ Notes: this has been in my drafts long before i created my other series. I needed to get the dust off this and post it lol. This is just purely chaotic fluff that may or may not have grammatical errors. Characters; Lucifer, Vox, and Adam.

‧₊˚✩彡 Lucifer M.

Let’s be honest, this man would have NO idea until you’re coughing up your lungs. It’s either he’s really fucking dense, or you’re just that good with hiding your sickness. He’d literally think that everything was normal until the day he didn’t see you at the hotel at all.

He’s asking everyone his eyes land on, asking them if they knew where you were. Most would just shrug and say no (lies), but just as when he was about to lose hope, his daughter saved the day by telling him.

You were at your friend's apartment?? Why?? That was genuinely the first thing that came to his mind. As he knocked on the (hopefully) right apartment door, he was conflicted when he saw a man with just a t-shirt on with a wet towel in his hands.

His mind went in all directions except the right one. His mind filled up with (horrifying) negative thoughts as he stuttered and asked if you were inside. And when the man in front of him said yes, he was instantly red.

He literally started attacking your poor friend with his much smaller frame, accusing him of doing things to you. The commotion was so loud that you heard the cat fight from your room, thus urging you to sluggishly make your way to them.

You immediately pulled Lucifer away from your friend, who surprisingly didn't have much scratches, as the little man in your hold visibly brightened upon seeing you. But his gaze soured just as quick as he glanced back at your friend.

“Leave.” He’d order, still fuming (adorably). “But this is my apartme–” And in the end, you managed to convince your friend to leave for a few hours. Apologizing to him as you tried to calm your lover down.

After the whole fiasco has died down, it was your turn to glare at Lucifer, who in return, chuckled nervously. Though, he'd try to defend himself, saying things like “who knows what he could have done to you if I didn't arrive on time?”

Once you explain everything to him, that feeling of uneasiness turns into guilt. He feels stupid. First, he didn't know that you were sick, second, he was so stupid that he wasn't able to take care of you properly (even though you didn't want him to know).

Despite your sickness, he's clinging onto you, mumbling sorry’s. He doesn't care if he gets sick in the process, he WILL take care of you now. You will go back to the hotel and stay in bed. You will not lift a single finger at all. You will be treated like royalty (which you practically are, at this point) and he’d be doing all the work for you.

Hungry? He's got a snickers. Thirsty? Here, have some apple juice. Having trouble sleeping? He's literally right beside you on your bed, snuggling close.

In the end, after you got better, it was his turn to get sick. And he's expecting you to reciprocate what he did when you were sick! (He just wants to be pampered and babied by you.)

‧₊˚✩彡 Vox.

Look, he’s a busy man. So hiding the fact that you were sick would be a piece of cake since you don’t meet that often, even if he desperately wanted to. But he does notice once you finally spend time together after a few days. He watched as you coughed and struggled to do things you’d usually do with ease.

He’d be very concerned about your wellbeing, despite not wanting to admit it, at least not so soon. Since he always has to be somewhere doing something, he’d get his most trusted employee to bring you stuff. Flowers to make you feel better? Right at your doorstep. A new, comfier blanket? Already on your bed, neatly folded. And of course, he never forgets the medicine.

He thought that sending gifts and stuff was enough for you (it was), but he was (not) wrong. At least that���s what he first thought during his visit when he finally had time. His eye twitched in irritation as he watched one of your ‘friends’ help you eat the soup, their hands carefully bringing the spoon to your lips.

He’d cough comically loud to try and get your attention. Come on, he’s literally standing in your doorway and yet you’re pretending as if it’s only you and your friend in the room. Once you finally notice his presence, you’d thank your friend before asking Vox why he was visiting you since you knew he was busy.

He refused to speak on that matter until your ‘friend’ left. Your friend understood (thankfully, Vox thought) and left, telling you to call them if you ever needed anything. Your lover would mock your friend behind their back by saying “ ‘cAlL mE iF yOu nEeD AnYthiNg’, bitch, who do they think they are? I can take better care of you by myself than they ever could.”

He’d instantly ask you tons of questions, why didn’t you tell him you were sick? Oh, you didn’t want to be a burden? Bullshit. He is not accepting that lame excuse. Unconsciously, he’d be pouting, and of course, it isn’t a matter of time until he throws a tantrum.

It took almost exactly 2 minutes before Vox was making a scene, dramatically conveying his hurt that you preferred some other bitch’s care than his. Isn’t he enough for you? He’d be making comments about how your sickness might have affected your brain and your taste. Not just in food, but in people.

What? You prefer some cheap fucker’s company during the time you’re vulnerable more than his? No, we are not going to talk about how he’s busy most of the time. And we are also not going to talk about how he literally threw a tantrum just to visit you.

He’d still be pretty cranky about everything, it’ll take quite the effort for him to consider forgiving you. No, kisses, hugs, and all of your attention when you’re better isn’t enough. He wants, no, he needs everything you have to and can offer.

‧₊˚✩彡 Adam.

At first, he doesn’t catch on that you’ve been more sluggish lately. He would complain about how you might not be doing your job properly, though it’s just a facade of his growing concern. But when you brush him off, saying that it’s nothing, then he’d reluctantly disregard the topic.

Once he finally realizes that you didn’t go to work (where he visits you quite often, well, more like everyday), he’d ask almost everyone that he encounters. Lute (who is tired of his bullshit)? Emily? Sera? Everyone will be questioned about you.

When someone finally gives in to his pestering and tells him that you were resting in your home, he’s sprinting there faster than the speed of light. He’d literally be banging on the door, screaming at the top of his lungs for you to let him in.

You’d groan and cover your ears with a pillow as your beautiful friend, Molly, laughed beside you. She sat upright as you tossed around trying to drown out Adam’s yelling. After realizing that he wasn’t leaving or stopping any time soon, Molly eventually asked if you really didn’t want her to open the door. You’d groan even louder, to which she’d chuckle at.

She was so sweet, cooking for you and making sure you drank your medicine. As she grabbed the empty bowl on the coffee table, she smiled as you finally gave her the green light to open the door for Adam.

She always found the two of you cute, the most adorable couple ever! And as soon as she opened the door, Adam zoomed past her, ignoring her presence completely. Once you finally come into his sight, he’d be scolding you about not telling him that you were sick, did you honestly think he wouldn’t be able to help? Don’t underestimate him, damnit!

He’d only ever acknowledge Molly’s presence as soon as she came into the room with medicine in her hands. To say that he’d be pissed was an understatement. He was (cutely) fuming, not only did you not tell him FIRST, but you also have someone else taking care of you?

Jealousy brewed more in the pit of his stomach as he watched you thank Molly and drink the medicine with a smile. Psshh, she just gave you pills! What’s so special about that? If you wanted medicine, you could’ve just fucking asked him and he would’ve given you a whole dozen of boxes!

The whole time Molly was there with the two of you, he’d literally comment (complain) on everything she does, whether it was to help you or not, her every action will be judged by him.

Though he still tries to help, asking you if you want a drink or a snack, making sure you’re not uncomfortable and other stuff. Don’t get him wrong, he’s still pretty fuzzy about everything. And he’d make his feelings known after your friend has (finally) left.

He’d immediately bombard you with questions that you would rather not answer. He’s being a dick, yes, but that’s because you acted like one first! Why would you not wanna tell him? He’s your lover! Do you not love him anymore?

You’d need to make it up to him because explaining that you just didn’t want to be a burden to him is not enough of an explanation, apparently. He’d make you promise that you’d give him ALL of your attention and time next time, and by ‘next time’, he meant when you’re not sick. Because he ain’t coming any closer than 5 meters with you. Get better first!

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

hi, hi!! if you don't mind, could you please write some headcanons about how Baji will behave in love (when he is somewhere around 12-13 years old), and also about how his friends will tease him/help him. In one of Wakuya's posts it was indicated that he is not interested in a relationship, but nothing can protect him from falling in love. (female reader please and you can make her anyone you want, someone's sister, friend, classmate, etc.)

Sure! I see a lot of people want Baji content since lot of people requests him and I dunno why but this makes me happy lol. Thank you so much for requesting<333

Baji has never been in love before and he wasn't interested in relationships as well. Rather, he wanted to focus on Toman. Relationship would have gotten in his way. That's what he thought.

But what is this unfamiliar yet nice feeling he gets whenever he sees you? It's like thousands of butterflies fly in his stomach.

When Baji would fall in love, he'd be very confused with what he feels. He's not sure because he has never experienced this before and sometimes, it's hard to say if you love someone romantically or platonically.

He'd definitely tell his mom about you, sometimes even without realising and when Ryoko asked him "Are you in love with her?" that's when he considered the possibility that he might have actually fallen in love.

Gosh he'd look forward to see you every single day. A type of boy who would walk you to anywhere you go just so he could spend time with you. He'd take you anywhere because "he has a bike and it's faster than walking" but what he truly wanted was to spend time with you.

His cheeks would immediately get red if you would compliment him.

Toman was newly formed, hence he needed to fight a lot with founding members to make Toman grow. That's why he thought that confessing and being in relationship at this moment would be troublesome.

He acted normally with his friends but they still noticed slight changes in Baji, though they didn't give that much thoughts back then.

That is, until Pah chin and Mitsuya caught him walking with a girl. With Pah chin's urging and Mitsuya being curious himself, they decided to follow you two a bit. Except then Kazutora popped out of nowhere and now three of them were following you two.

Next day Pah chin immediately started teasing Baji with something like "I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Baji!" and Baji would be confused at first before he'd blush madly.

Kazutora and Pah chin gave him NO BREAK from their teasings and for more, they were urging him to confess already. But Baji didn't want to rush things, he had to think about it all himself.

His personality or behaviour around others wouldn't change, but if you would compare how he acts around you to how he acts with his friends usually, you'd immediately know that he's in love with you. Ofc you didn't know how he was with his friends tho.

Let me name one scenario where Baji was riding with Toman captains and he just saw something from the store that just reminded him of you. He'd immediately stop the bike to buy it and give it to you later. (he'd have to deal with lot of teasings from his friends).

People say that love makes you weak but if it's for you, Baji gladly would be weak and vulnerable, even if he dislikes being such. If it's for you, he doesn't mind.

He has accidentally spoken about you so many times. Like he'd be thinking about you a lot, so often he'd just blub out anything about you.

He took you to his home because "you'd help him with his studies" and Ryoko treated you like her daughter already rather than as Baji's friend. (He never stopped talking about you with her).

♡♡♡

I hope you're satisfied! Thank you for requesting. This was so fun to write!

[cripplecharacters]

Hello. I am writing a character with intellectual disability, and I have found your posts about that really helpful. Thank you for taking the time to make them.

I am trying to do research and write him well, and I was hoping you could give me some advice on how to do that. My problem is that I would like to describe the way he speaks and the sound of his voice, but I'm not sure how to do that respectfully.

What I would like to describe is the way he takes a little longer to complete his sentences, needs more time than others do to plan what he's going to say, and pronounces some sounds a bit differently because of motor skills issues. I want to honor his unique voice and also help readers understand that he is noticeably disabled.

Are there any words or terms that would be really good/preferred to describe this sort of thing? And, on the other side, is there anything stereotypical or hurtful that should be avoided?

Thank you!

Hi!

I recommend our guide on writing speech disabilities!

In-dialogue, you can try showing him taking a break mid-sentence or using a lot of filler words/sounds to show that he's taking his time. You can spell them out in his speech, but I wouldn't overuse it - you can put more of them at the start, but later your readers will remember that that's how he talks, and occasional reminders should be enough.

It's important to remember that 1) ableists often mock the things I just mentioned, and 2) they're nonetheless real and real life people (me) talk with those patterns. I'd urge you to show them as just how he talks, not something that's inherently "annoying" or "child-like". Stray away from any sorts of infantilizing comparisons in general (that is, if he's not an actual child).

For him taking longer to plan what he is going to say, that's very real lol. How it shows (or doesn't show) will be very personal, I specifically tend to look up + fidget with my hands and people who know me can recognize that it means I'm trying to say something but need a moment (though strangers also often get it). But he can show it completely differently of course.

I don't think there's a consensus on what's the best way of "spelling out" someone's speech disability. My personal preference is leaving it out of the actual speech, but making it clear in the dialogue tags. It's also easier for readers who might have reading disabilities or not be native speakers of the language you write in. So you could make it clear there whether it's that he's slurring words, has a lisp, or stutters.

For terms, a lot of the accurate ones have also been used to mock how we talk. "Slow" would be the best example, "loud" would be there as well. A lot of us will talk slow, a lot will talk very loudly. I do the latter, and I know people who do both or neither. The key is to say it in a way that's neutral and not pass it off as some funny quirk or an outright gag. It's just a speech characteristic, the same way that someone could have a lower pitched voice, or speak very softly.

You can also show him struggling to follow the flow of the conversation. So sometimes it could be that he just loses the main topic and just asks what the discussion has been about (I do that all the time), or continues going on the subject that the other character(s) already moved on from.

Thanks for the ask and being thoughtful about it! I hope this helps

mod Sasza

[gibor-zolel]

Tabitha: The sacrificial lamb? And possible Sybil motivations + partnership with Wayne

So in this post I'll be discussing why I think Tabitha is supposed to be the sacrifice and we're supposed to run the town.

I will also give a theory as to what Sybil's motivations might be and why her and "Wayne" seem to be working together even though they appear to dislike each other.

SPOILERS AND MANY SCREENSHOTS BELOW. THIS IS A LONG POST BE WARNED.

Right at the beginning of the game we can tell that Tabitha is unhappy with her lot in life and feels forced into doing what she believes is best for the town (similar to how Neeks feels forced and trapped)

She even admits as such during our time with her in chapter 3.

She; as the cousin who is older and has lived in Scarlet Hollow has been groomed by her mother into thinking that all this falls on her and she needs to sacrifice her life and happiness for the sake of the town.

But she's not the only one that believes this. Both Keneeka and Sybil have stated as much. Keneeka makes an offhand comment about how "we're not even a real Scarlet like Tabitha and this should fall on her" if we give up years of our life in chapter 3.

But Sybil is more....insidious and serious when she says this;

Sybil thinks it's Tabby's responsibility to give up a decade of her life to placate a ghost that was murdered by a Scarlet decades ago. I'm not gonna screencap every time Sybil makes an argument "for the greater good" but if you listen to her all throughout this story, you'll notice she does it A LOT.

Here's one example;

Everything has a price....but would Sybil do something like this herself? Perhaps...but it's more likely she's willing to do something horrible to her own daughter "for the sake of the town". She makes a big deal out of how the people in Scarlet Hollow are tied to this town and how they can't just get up and leave in chapter 2. She's not wrong but it's also obvious she's plotting and hiding information from us.

Which brings me to this; There's a strong possibility that "The Witch" is not merely an ancestor of Sybil but rather Sybil herself. In this scene we notice that The Witch has many poisonous plants...similar to how Book Smart can point out all the poisonous plants in chapter 1 or 4.

The Witch also sends Charlie on a dangerous mission to uncover the seals...hmmm who does that sound like? In chapter 4 after our tea session with Sybil she tells us to investigate the seals and find out what's hidden beneath them.

More importantly....if you have Mystical or don't drink Sybil's tea you can resist the urge to open the door in chapter 3.

We also learn towards the end of chapter 4 that Sybil is the one who told Dr Kelly to poison her son but we can only learn this if we didn't drink the chaga tea in chapter 2.

So it's pretty clear that Sybil wants two things;

(1) Uncover the seals

(2) Protect the town....even at the expense of others

But something that's interesting is that Sybil and whatever is piloting Sam Wayne's corpse seem to be working together for a common goal..even though the two don't seem to like or even respect each other.

We learn in chapter 1 or 2 depending on our choices, that "Wayne" has been coming by Sybil's tea room. Although it's unclear if the original Sam Wayne did this as well.

Regardless; Sybil tells Wayne she can't help him tonight and tells him to go away. In multiple chapters Sybil refers to Wayne as a drifter who'll be gone soon. She also stresses that we should be wary of him and to steer clear whenever he's around and we'll be fine. It's clear she knows what Wayne wants and most likely knows what "he" really is. She also gets this worried (disgusted?) look on her face if we tell her we're in love with Wayne (sorry no pic lol)

But she also steers clear of Wayne as well and rarely interacts with him and Wayne straight up threatens her if we choose to give up years of our life.

So why this hostility? And why do I think they might be working together?

Lets talk about those boxes in chapter 4. If you have Keen Eye in chapter 4 and open the closet you get this;

So it's Wayne that opens these boxes and shifts the doll around. Why? Well at the end of chapter 4 he tells us to investigate the estate and that we might be surprised at what we find. Wayne does this thing where it's obvious he knows what's going on but he won't directly tell us what's happening. He says it's because it'll be better for us to find out ourselves so "we can know who to really trust".

In other words; Wayne believes that once we uncover everything we'll be on his side. He's pretty confident about all this and I'm unsure how much to trust him; given that he repeatably bad mouths our friends and suggests we abandon them to save our own skins.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Why did Wayne open these boxes? Did he hope to find damming information against the Scarlet's? I find it hard to believe that Tabby has that pushed into the front of our closet but maybe she doesn't know it's there? And why didn't he put the boxes back in place? Almost as if he wants us to open that specific box.

What if...Wayne planted something there? Or maybe he took a piece of evidence and hid it? I think option 1 is more likely considering he seems to be isolating us from our friends.

I believe Wayne is working with Sybil to make sure Tabitha is the one to pay for all the crimes the Scarlet's did and insure that we are unharmed. I don't think Sybil cares too much if we get hurt but I also think she's of the belief that it's Tabitha who should be the sacrifice not us. Tabitha is the only one that Sybil agrees on being "The Cat" in episode 4. Sybil pushes you to distrust Tabby and perhaps Wayne planted something there to make us distrust her too.

Look at this interaction between Wayne and Tabby during the haunting;

He says this if you deliberately taunt Tabitha but I don't believe he's being sincere here. It sounds like he's mocking her in a subtle way given what he says in another option;

So far Tabby and Wayne haven't interacted much but imo it appears that Wayne enjoys taunting Tabitha and rubbing her ex's dead body and their failed relationship in her face. Pretty nasty but Wayne is pretty nasty to a lot of our friends.

Either way; Wayne is very invested in making sure we're safe and he gets pissed if we sacrifice ourselves and this is the only time we see him have any kind of emotion.

So what if he's so intent on keeping us safe he wants Tabby to take the fall for whatever skeletons are in the Scarlet's closet?

There's also this theme of the heir to the estate sacrificing their younger siblings or others to keep themselves in power. After all; Enoch sacrificed Teddy for power.

Tabby may be older than us but she's not the child of the heir, that's us. Vivian was supposed to be the boss of the mines but she left after she discovered she was pregnant.

I believe the Scarlet's have a history of having one side of their family rule while the other side gets used as sacrifices for whatever is cursing this town. Wayne wants to protect us from getting murked and Sybil is willing to do whatever it takes to ensure the people of the Holler can keep living their lives.

And let's face it; most of the town believes Tabby is to blame for all of their problems. She isn't sociable, she's blunt, she's isolated, she's alone....the perfect scapegoat?

[hughiecampbelle]

Nausea (Billy Butcher Oneshot)

Character/s: Butcher

Word Count: 1,349

A/N: This is a re-upload bc the first time I posted it I got self-conscious and deleted it lol. It's just not my best writing, but I feel like I have to get it out. Just me writing about my issues again! I still have no idea what's going on, but all the same diagnoses come back from the first time (uc/crohn's/celiac/gastroparesis) and it's so infuriating. My doctors don't know what's wrong and my family, who I love, just think it's nerves. I don't think my very graphic symptoms are nerves 😅 I have so many remedies by my bed, it looks crazy. I haven't slept well in a few days bc of the pain, but I'm also so afraid of not being believed again, it's a vicious loop. Okay I swear I'm done complaining! Thank you for putting up with me!!! 💜💜💜💜💜💜

He knows when it’s happening. There is no great show or performance. There is no crying or whimpering. No one else would even notice, but he knows the signs. Albeit too late, but he does. You’re quieter, withdrawn, hand over mouth, hoping this will stop the nausea. Deep, even breaths: breathing through it. When that is not enough, when that stops working, you slip quietly out of the room and into the bathroom. He tries not to notice how long you’re gone. Mere minutes. It feels so much longer. Someone snatches his attention from you and suddenly, you’re back. You reappear as if you were never gone. You offer a smile, a joke or two, a sense of normalcy, but beneath you’re stomach is churning, clenching, radiating pain through your middle. You only let him tell a few people, who you’re sure told everyone else. Still, none react besides him. He doesn’t say anything, to do so would draw attention. That’s the last thing you want. Instead, he moves towards you, casually, standing beside you. Close. You can feel his jacket on your arm. Worn and scratchy. Familiar. He looks at you and you offer him a small, insignificant nod. That’s as far as he’ll get to asking if you’re okay. That’s as far as you’ll let him when you’re working. 

Its been happening on and off for years. Off, for a long time. You thought it was over. Gone. Dead. It’s come back, though, an uninvited guest. This sudden pain, this distress, this mystery no one is curious enough to solve. When they looked, they found nothing. Said you were fine. You were embarrassed, hurt, questioning if it was all in your head. Eventually, you moved on. Things got better. You believed them. And now it’s back. A fullness, nausea, pain, weight loss. You can’t be in the apartment while he’s cooking. The smell repulses you. The taste, too. You can’t eat, afraid you’ll be sick. Again. He urges you, please, something more than your morning coffee, but you cannot handle it. Everything you try you end up spitting out: everything is gluey, everything is profoundly unappetizing. Hiding in the bathroom away from the scent or leaving altogether, it’s put a rift between you. Meals that were safe turned poisonous. Entire food groups cut off unwillingly. It’s been days. Your stomach growls, but that is a trick. You try to ignore it, hide it, knowing what he will insist. He watches you. You can feel it. You don’t say anything. It’s easier this way, not to fight, not to argue. This is a hill you will not die on. He does what he can, pouring your coffee, grateful you at least have that. So far, it doesn’t cause problems and it keeps you full. That’s all you can ask for. 

He wants you to get looked at, checked out. You refuse. You were so sick, so scared, and they told you nothing was wrong. You were constantly doubting if this was even real, then and now. If they didn’t find anything, if they didn’t have the answers, you’re not sure what you’ll do. You can’t be doubted again. You can’t be looked at and deemed dramatic. You knew the pain was real. Why did you have to prove it? Why did you have to show them when they refused to believe you? So, you keep it to yourself, far from friends and family. They congratulated the weight you lost. Said you looked good. Remind them you were petrified to eat. You were smaller and that’s what mattered. It’s worse at night. Lying beside him, you push from him, untangling his arms from around you. A trash bin by your head, waiting for it to pass. If things are bad, really bad, you’ll lock yourself in, on the floor, praying for it to go away. He wakes up to an empty bed night after night. The pain wakes you up. You have nausea patches, and losanges, and a heating pad he is constantly rewarming. If you lay very still, perhaps you can trick it. Play dead. Hours you’ll spend curled in a ball, wondering what it was that you ate that set it off, that made it so angry. Was it the time? The combination? You were down to drinks with minerals and vitamins, hydrating agents to keep you going. Baby food. Liquid diet. You missed food. You missed having an appetite. You missed cooking. But it wasn’t worth it afterwards. Immediately or hours, the nausea, the pain, the discomfort invites itself back into your life. 

Butcher isn't a natural worrier. There isn't a lot that scares him. But this? This leaves him petrified. There is something wrong and no one will listen. You try to shrug it off. It was so much worse all those years ago. It was excruciating. This, if anything, is a walk in the park in comparison. Uncomfortable sure, but that's all. It's not Vought or Homelander, that he can protect you from. That he can stop. Your body working against itself? That he can do nothing about. It isn't fair. It isn't right. And yet, there is nothing to be done. The tests they did were inconclusive. Why risk it again? Why waste your time? You assure him soon it will be gone, a few days, maybe a few weeks. Last time it was six months. You swallow that time like a prison sentence. Six months. You could do it again, if you had to. You could manage. Maybe by then they’d take you seriously. He wanted to yell and scream, at them. Order them around, insist they help, but would that even help? More tests, more waiting. By the time it would be your turn, it would have gone into remission. Loved ones would hypothesize, becoming doctors themselves. Their favorite diagnosis? Nerves. You weren’t anxious, or nervous, or worried. You were wasting away. You were spending your nights trying not to throw up and your days doing anything to prevent discomfort. Even certain clothes, too close, too constricting, were off the table. You couldn’t stand the way they looked at you, everyone but Butcher, wondering if it was physical or mental. He heard you, he saw you, he knew this was all too real. Why couldn’t others? 

You're more tired, exhausted as soon as the sun starts setting. You lose a lot of hours at night, in the early mornings, praying to anyone who will listen that you’ll wake up tomorrow and it will be gone. That you will be fine again. That it really was all in your head. Falling asleep in the car. He tries to avoid bumps in the roads, potholes, not wanting to wake you. Your attention straining: it's always there, in the back of your mind, at the back of your throat. It sits deep in the pit of your stomach and it mocks you. When you finally do complain, just a little, when it's too much, he knows it's really getting bad. He's helpless all over again. The people he's loved, the people he's lost, he can't risk it. Not again. Not with you. There’s little can do, though. There’s little anyone can do. This is not someone he can kill, this is not an organization he can take down. This is chronic, spontaneous, vengeful. It has no rhyme or reason. You let the mask slip every so often. You’re scared. Scared of what they’ll find, scared of what they won’t. He reassures you, whatever it is, you’ll figure it out together. You trust him, you love him, but you can’t do that to him. You can’t be a burden. You body is your own to take care of. So, you throw up in the bathroom, and wear your patches, and make your jokes. You tell him it’s a three, always a three, on a scale from one to ten. You can’t let him worry, he’s got enough on his plate. Yours will remain empty until, hopefully soon, it goes away just as it has appeared.

[angelskills]

Dealing with trauma . . .

characters: Toji, Shiu, Kamo clan, you

warnings: HEAVY angst, fluff, slight smut, trauma, mental abuse(Kamo clan), etc

a/n: Thank you so much for the 140+ notes on my last post! that's the most I've gotten. btw it took me 4 hours to make this, and please don't read this if you get triggered easily lol. I have always imagined Toji like this and hopefully, it matches, anyways, add me on Discord, tun2xi

You and Toji have been in a relationship for almost 1 and a half years now. You guys trust each other a lot and love each other so much. But, one thing, you guys lacked communication.

Of course, you were there for Toji whenever he was having a hard time, but you never thought about telling him about your own problems.

You are from the Kamo clan, Kamo Y/N. You were a maid for them, nothing but a maid. Not a daughter, cousin, niece, sister, just a maid they called you. No words of affection did you receive from them, only degradation, maybe a simple praise from here and there but not that much.

You managed to successfully run away from the Kamo clan with the help of Toji, before that, you used to sneak out sometimes to see him, after you ran away, he offered to let you live with him as long as you got a job. It hadn't been long since you ran away.

One thing Toji never got you to talk about is how you felt, the trauma they left you, whenever you felt chills running down your spine when the Kamo clan was mentioned in front of you. Of course, whenever there are problems or fights between you and Toji, you guys sort it out, but yet the heavy feeling in your heart, begging to be let out, and you didn't know how.

Toji often checked up on you, "Are you okay, princess?" He would run his fingers down your cheeks, looking concerned. You would just nod and he would brush it off as if he was overthinking it. Now, you were always crying in the shower, throwing things around out of rage, resisting the urge to break everything whenever he left for work.

You picked up a job as a personal assistant for your boss temporarily, it went fine luckily! The boss for the same 'company' Toji worked at. You would attend meetings and the moment Kamo clan is mentioned, you shake up a little bit, catching Toji's attention.

You followed your boss into his office, seeing both Toji and Shiu there. You smile at Toji then turn your attention to your boss, reading out a paper, "Alright, there was a request from the Head of the Kamo clan..to assassinate..." His words slowly fade out as you realize who they are talking about. Why would the Kamo clan want an assassin from the same company you work at? Did they find you? Will they pull you back in? Will all those horrible moments repeat? Even worse since you ran away? What's gonna happen?! Will the head of the kamo clan show up here?! Will the happiness you struggled so hard to build up stumble on you?!

You started to panic, breathing heavily. Your boss, Shiu, and Toji noticed, damn, this is the last thing you wanted.

You put your clipboard with a bunch of papers and pen on the table behind you, "E-excuse me." You say immediately getting out of there, fast walking in your heels to the bathroom, then you notice Toji get out of the room too, running to you and grabbing your wrist, making you face him, "Y/N, what's wrong? Talk to me." He says, looking at you worried in the eyes.

That moment, right there and then, you wanted to tell him, babble out everything you have been feeling, you felt your heart beating faster, your throat getting choked from the unknown words being stored that you wanna say.

But you didn't. "I'm okay, Toji!" Okay. That sounded fake. "It's just, leg cramps from the heels."

He knew you were lying, "Y/N I know you're-" He got interrupted by his boss calling out for him. He kissed your forehead and ran back to his boss's office.

Your shift ends at 5pm today, unlike Toji since he has to assassinate somebody.

You take a cab back home since you don't have your own car yet. Once you got home, you rushed to your bed, jumping on it as the pain relieved from your back as you took your heels off, you drifted off to a deep sleep, not caring enough to change your clothes as you were so tired because your boss makes you work like a dog (the money is worth it though).

You wake up at 7 p.m., exactly when Toji usually comes back home. You got up to change into your pajamas, quickly going to the kitchen to heat up some Korean fishcakes, since you didn't feel like cooking today. As you sat on the couch, waiting for your lover to arrive, you sighed, thinking back to how you looked so dumb panicking over the Kamo clan being mentioned. After a while, Toji finally came back, and you ran to him to give him a hug.

As you guys sat at the dinner table, talking about the company as you absolutely gobbled down the fishcakes because you were so hungry.

As you guys got ready for bed, he mentioned the Kamo clan again, "The Head of that clan is really picky, took me a minute to find the guy they wanted dead." He laughed. Your body shivers a little bit, just the thought of the Head had you a bit scared, "I-is that so?" you stuttered as you finished washing your face, rubbing the water off your face with a towel.

After a moment of silence, he spits out, "Y/N, you're not telling me something. Talk to me, what's going on?" he said, holding your hand.

That's it, you want to say it so bad. Tears started flooding your eyes, You will have to say it anyway, whether you like it or not. You hugged him, sobbing. Finally, you said it.

"I'm scared, Toji..." You sobbed, "I'm s-scared that every time I walk out of the house, the Kamo clan's guards will see me and just drag me back in. I don't w-want to go back."

Toji wrapped his arms around you as you spoke, "T-they're horrible, fucking horrible. I hate them, I hate them, I hate them. They did unspeakable things to me, I want them to fucking die. I want the whole clan destroyed, I want them to face what they did to me, and I just-"

His hands went up to your red cheeks and he caressed it, his fingers ran through your hair as he looked into your eyes, "Princess, you're safe. They don't know you are here, they can't find you." His hand presses onto your cheeks a little bit firmly, "And they're fucking terrible for what they did to you. I will kill them myself if I have to, and whatever they did to you, will never happen while you are with me."

His gaze on you softens as he wipes the tears from your face, pulling you into a tighter hug. You felt safe in his embrace, he made you feel loved, he made you feel confident about yourself, so many more things. You couldn't find the words on how to thank him.

then he got horny and you guys fucked while you were cuddling with him ><

[deadricslover]

little admirer

here's my masterlist!

a/n: I've been stuck for ideas I'm sorry I've been gone :/ but hopefully I will get back into the routine of posting! this is also shorter than usual but I didn't want to drag it out lol

summary: you always hated getting bombarded by 'fans' of Bruce and the paparazzi. You didn't think this encounter would be any different but you were wrong. It was actually one of the most wholesome ones and definitely your favourite.

warnings: this really isn't about Bruce but he's the boyfriend ok? so...ya. and scars I guess NOT PROOFREAD

pairings: bale!Bruce Wayne x gn!musician!eader

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

When you looked out the window and saw the crowds of people outside, your fear reached its pinnacle. The only thing you wanted was to spend your anniversary with Bruce alone, free from intrusions other than kisses, of course. Yet that was all wishful thinking. It was obvious that it would not occur. Given your animosity for the paparazzi, Bruce had made an effort to ease your fears, but in reality, you both knew you would just have to get through it. You might have thought you would get used to it since you were also a fairly well-known musician, but not as much as Bruce, the prince of Gotham. However, Bruce took your hand and urged you to break the habit of chewing your nails while staring at the crowd.

"how do they even know you're here?" to ask turning to him

he huffs and shakes his head in thought. "I don't know. maybe someone saw us walking in"

"can we not go to dinner in peace? I mean.." you were at a loss for words, you didn't know how people could be so invasive and inconsiderate.

"I know. I know" he soothes gently kissing your hand and stroking your opposite shoulder whilst his arm is around your back.

"do you want to just get it done?" he inquires and you knew it was the smart thing to do even though you didnt want to. at all.

"yeah sure" you reply turning away and grabbing some last minute things off the bed. On the way out of the elevator, Bruce gently yet firmly places his hand on your waist in order to keep you close. Cameras flash, questions are thrown as you try to make your way through the flood of people. Bruce usually liked to put away a minute or two for some real fans who just wanted a high five off of Bruce Wayne, but he wasn't so sure about right now. You encouraged him to do it, not to break tradition and said you would wait elsewhere. Usually people would recognise you, but Bruce Wayne was right there so of course nobody would pay attention to you...not that you were complaining. A couple people did ak for a photo and you kindly obliged as long as they were sincere about it. As you stood watching Bruce interact with kids and their parents, not paying any mind to reporters, you feel a little tap on your arm. You look around and notice a little girl standing next to you with loving eyes. You crouch down to the little girl thinking maybe she was lost.

"hi sweetie. Are you ok?" you ask the child glancing around to see if her parents were anywhere to be found.

"I'm very good." she replies cheerfully

"awh that's good. where are your parents?" you ask

"getting a photo with Bruce Wayne."

"ooohh. everyone wants to don't they? he's really famous" you emphasize trying to make conversation with the girl

"not as famous as you, though"

she knew who you were? that's so sweet "no no. Bruce is way way more famous than me. but thank you! what's your name?"

"Camilla. You're my favourite person, ever!" she jumps lightly squealing.

oh my- of your heart wasn't throbbing before. it sure is now. the smile on your face couldn't be bigger.

"awh that's so sweet! you're my favourite person too, Camilla!"

"can I tell you a secret" she whispers after a couple moments of silence

"of course you can" you tell her pretending to zip your lips and lock them. She rolls up her t-shirt a little to show you a scar on her tummy. Whatever caused that scar, you felt horrible, especially because she said it was a secret. your eyebrows draw together as a reaction to your reaction.

"I used to hate it and cry all the time because I thought it was weird. but then I found out that you had one too, and now I love it, because my favourite person in the whole wide world has the same thing as me!" she tells. you honestly could cry. A little girl hating something about her body ay such a young age is bad enough but also the fact that she grew to love it because you had one too?! your heart throbbed.

"I do have one. it's on my arm. But yours is so much more beautiful"

"I got mine from an operation when I was a baby" she informs you butchering the word operation as any child would.

"ooh interesting. see all those people asking Bruce for a photo? with all the cameras? well I got mine from them. one time I finished a show and was going home and they hurt me" you recall in simple terms

"my mommy and daddy hurt you?" she asks shocked

"no! not your parents. some others that don't work there anymore."

"that's sad" she replies

she looks off into the crowd for a second and waves to her parents before telling you she has to go now-- not before asking for a hugh though. you kindly oblige without a second thought and embrace the girl smiling. her parents walk over and thank you for being kind to her and watching her. you tell them it was no problem as they leave and you wave to the little girl. Right on queue the famous Bruce wayne walks over without you noticing

"she seemed to love you"

"tell me about it. I'm her favourite person ever in the whole wide world" you recall

"she's not the only one" he adds to taking your hand in his and starts walking

you smile lightly and nudge Bruce slightly "she showed me something too. she had this scar on her stomach from a surgery when she born and she used to always be insecure about it" you start

"that's horrible, she's only young" he butts in genuinely sorry for the girl

"yeah, but the nice part that she found out that I also had a scar the same shape as hers and because of that she grew to love it...all because I had one too!" you exclaim still in disbelief

"you're such an influence. that's so sweet" he responds continuing to walk. "it is isn't it?" you reply placing your head on his shoulder while strolling to the restaurant. Usually you hate the paparazzi, but this time was different, it was sincere and sweet. definitely your favourite so far.

[tears0fsatan]

I have something in mind

Can brothers+ Simeon (If you can) react to a smutty fanfic with male mc written by some random succubus?

They're just randomly scrolling on devilgram (or any other platform) and they see this fanfic (if you know what I mean)

Sorry if it's a bit confusing.

✦ ⊹ ˚˖ warnings... nsfw??, below 16 do not interact u'll be blocked if u do, male!mc, mainly implied dom!mc, mainly implied top!mc, possessive language yeahhhh 🤘🤘🤟, praise, levi has two dicks lol (its canon atp yall source: trust me), implied blowjob lol (levi), lowkey exhibitionism (satan&beel), mention of somno (belphie), mention of body worship lol (simeon)

 :¨·.·¨ ♥︎  a.n... wait this is actually pretty cute??? HAHAHA had so many ideas for this thank you hon <3 (lol lets move past the fact that this req is almost a year old and it reminded me of svsss lowkey)

LUCIFER !

he doesn't really remember how things had gotten to this point, one moment he was busy doing his paperwork and the next he was reading this... obscene nonsense on his phone. it was horribly vulgar and terribly inappropriate, not to mention how it invaded his and MCs privacy.

yet for some reason, he couldn't look away.

lucifer was no teenage boy, he had the willpower to move mountains and never felt the urge to masturbate, especially to something as crass as smut of someone he knew personally.

he had no need to read horrible stuff like this since he could easily have the real thing, yet he had to admit, there was something rather enticing about someone's lewd fantasies between him and MC. it annoyed him to no end that someone thought of his MC in such a way but knowing that they knew it was lucifer that was the one making his human feel so good eased his jealousy.

it was comical almost, how the author depicted him fucking MC into the next day when in reality it was the opposite. it was lucifer who was under the mercy of the human, the one who would cry and beg for more, not that anyone outside of the two of them needed to know.

however, there was one commonality between the vulgar post and reality that made his pride flare, no one, not human, angel, or demon, could ever make his little human feel as good as he did. it was interesting to see how accurate yet inaccurate this succubus's fantasy was at the same time and only lucifer would know.

lucifer thought about leaving a comment correcting the author on what a satisfied MC really looked like, on how it was really he himself that trembled under the human's touch, and how MC managed to get the avatar of pride into such a state. yet, knowing that he was the only one who truly knew those little things pleased him greatly, and quickly dismissed the thought. some things were better left unsaid.

MAMMON !

during one of his nightly visits to his favourite casino, mammon couldn’t help but notice how some of the succubi keeping the gambling demons company were whispering amongst each other and giggling to themselves while occasionally throwing glances at him. at first, he thought nothing of it, he was a demon lord after all and the second oldest of all seven avatars of sins on top of being a model, it was no surprise people would recognise him.

throughout the night he caught wind of bits and pieces of the succubi’s whispering and immediately opened his D.D.D. to see exactly what the hell they were muttering about. what he found left him speechless and unable to focus on his bets the entire night, though he tried (and subsequently failed miserably) to not let it show.

there was a flare of anger at the thought of other people thinking of his MC in that way but the fact that they imagined him with MC had a different feeling flaring up in the pit of his stomach. a sense of smugness bubbled up from within, damn right it was him that was fucking MC, as if he would allow anyone else touch his treasure.

mammon's thoughts kept flitting back to the post despite himself, images of scenes the author described coming to haunt him through his bets and they had him shifting in his seat, eager to keep the money rolling in but also desperate to have MCs arms wrapped around him and make the dirty fantasies of a random succubus come to life.

he wanted to feel MCs desperation on his skin, he wanted the humans attention all on him, his eyes focused on the demon and him alone, but most of all, mammon wanted to hear the cascade of praises that the human sang his way, just like how the post had described. he needed all of it.

before he realised, his thoughts were no longer focused on the money he could've been earning and instead on his human. he'd deal with the perverted succubus and his increasing debt another day, what he needed right now was MC.

LEVIATHAN !

now, leviathan was no stranger to fan fiction, especially smut and x readers. he was what one could describe as an expert on internet culture, so how could he not know about something as infamous as fan fiction? they were his guilty pleasure, not that anyone knew.

he was also no stranger to searching MC up online, whether it was on devilgram to see the most recent photos captured of him or fabsnap to replay the videos of him doing a silly challenge with one of his brothers. while he knew that the real living human was merely a few steps away, leviathan wasn't sure if he wanted such a useless and gross otaku breathing down his neck.

so, when he was scrolling through devilgram to see updates on a new anime he was into and accidentally stumbled upon a once in a lifetime goldmine, how could he pass up the opportunity to read it? i mean, to think that some other basement dweller thought of him with MC in such an intimate way... that was pretty fucking awesome, wasn't it?! leviathan was divided between feeling like the luckiest demon in all three realms and feeling like he had tainted something he shouldn't have, as his eyes shakily scanned the blob of text with bated breath.

there were several moments that sent a shudder down his spine, the description of MC taking his cocks oh so sweetly had him running laps in his mind. even after he finished reading the entirety of the post, he had to go back again, as if to burn the text into his memory.

a whine made its way out of the demon's throat when the mental image of the human stroking his cocks with a lazy smirk on his lips and sharp eyes analysing his every move took reign over his thoughts, the image coming back despite how hard he tried to will it away and focus on the post again. his attempts proved futile, thoughts of MC on his knees in front of him with a cock in each hand, movement stopping completely just as he was about to come flashed in his mind with every breath⎯ leviathan couldn't get him out of his head.

hidden beneath the guilt that came with thinking of such lewd acts with MC lay a flare of envy⎯ how dare someone think of the revered human in such a manner? the more he thought about him and the post, the brighter the flare burned, and soon it consumed him, on top of the sinful thoughts of his human.

SATAN !

while waiting for a certain human to join him at the library for their promised tutoring session, satan decided to scroll through his devilgram, chuckling quietly to himself when he comes across a silly video of cats. however, his laughter soon died down when he scrolled onto the next recommended post and saw that it was about his study date and himself.

after a moment of pondering whether he should take the time to read the horny rambling of a random succubus or not, he ultimately decided, fuck it, why not? it was crude and quite poorly written, he noted, but the thought behind the post was made clear; satan took MC to the library under the guise of tutoring him when in reality it had only been a front to fuck the human in public.

a concoction of emotion bubbled underneath his skin and his mind ran rampant, the thought of someone naively believing that satan would be the one who would do something as ballsy as that nearly made him laugh, but he imagined a scenario where the dynamic flipped, and the chuckle died in his throat. various images of MC using him in a place he deemed to be his haven weaselled past his wall of self control and it became the only thing he could think of.

it wasn't something he hadn't thought of, it was just one that he tried not to acknowledge. after all, it was a public setting and satan had the reputation of a demon lord to keep up, he couldn't just do something indecent where lesser beings could see him and MC. yet, in a way, the vulgar musing of some unknown succubus brought an onslaught of unwarranted thoughts about him and the human doing uncouth things in places where someone could randomly stumble upon them that he didn't hate all that much.

the idea of the human covering his mouth with his hand to silence all the obscene noises so people wouldn't discover them had more of an effect on the demon than he thought and he had to stop himself from divulging in his horny daydreams further.

he was pulled out of his dirty fantasies by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and satan looked up to see that the human had arrived, chest rising and falling faster than it would normally, giving him the idea that he had run to meet him. the demon put on a smile and continued with the date like he never read the post in the first place, but unbeknownst to MC, there were endless plans swirling around in his mind.

ASMODEUS !

there is no demon in devildom who is more active on devilgram and fabsnap than asmodeus, the avatar of lust himself. it was no surprise to find him scrolling through his phone whenever he wasn't checking himself out on the nearest reflective surface. he isn't ashamed to admit he often checks posts tagged with his name, he enjoyed seeing all the compliments random succubi and inccubi showered him in.

though as of late, there was another name he found himself searching up alongside his. there was no one else it could've been besides MC, the human had somehow managed to worm his way into asmodeus's self fulfilled heart, which shocked even asmodeus himself. the demon always read every caption and comment under a post with either his or MCs name in it, especially posts tagged with both of their names. he made sure to never miss a post, regardless of whether they had something good or bad to say (of course the negative ones all got mysteriously bombarded with death threats and soon after were taken down). it was how he found the random musing of one of his fans.

it was scrambled and all over the place, not to mention the number of inaccuracies woven into it, and yet it turned asmodeus on nevertheless. there was one thing they got right; how the demon absolutely adored milking the human dry. the way his spit coated lips would bleed from how hard he bit on them and the way the filthy, degrading names that made asmodeus tremble in all the right ways would tumble past his lips as he rode him, he loved it all.

he fed off of MC's grunts and delirious praises like they were his last lifeline, both in this fan's fantasy and in real life. he never thought that someone could look as beautiful as himself while orgasming but then the human came along and suddenly it was like he had found god again.

the demon found himself getting more and more worked up as he read the text, the detail in the writing of what the two did sent a delightful shiver down his spine, and asmodeus had a sudden urge to stalk the human down and jump his bones. who knew someone's horny rambling could make asmodeus, the avatar of lust, feel this heated? as he skipped off in the direction of MC, thoughts about commissioning the fan kinkier work in the future cycled through his mind.

BEELZEBUB !

the avatar of gluttony wasn't someone who was constantly glued to his D.D.D. like a certain brother of his, if not for communicating with his brothers and MC or using his food sleuthing skills to find new and upcoming food businesses, he hardly even glanced at his phone.

yet somehow, beelzebub found himself unable to take his eyes off of his phone after one particularly tiring fangol practice. while all the other players had finished washing up and changing, the avatar of gluttony was still seated on the bench, unaware of the world around him. the post that had the demon so entranced was one about MC and himself doing sinful things that he only thought asmodeus would indulge in inside the very room beelzebub was situated in at the moment.

a shiver went down his spine and goosebumps broke out all over his skin, both from sweat that clung to his skin and the cool air and the post on devilgram. he was already hungry from not being able to eat during practice, but the description of MCs equally sweaty chest pressed against his back while his hands roamed beelzebubs waist made him feel a different kind of hunger⎯ a different sort of want.

usually his sin felt like a neverending void that he couldn't fill no matter how much he stuffed himself, and he still felt that, but the constant buzzing was somehow not as strong as the ache in his chest and the fire in his lower belly. amidst the heavy racing of his heart and the adrenaline from practice was still pumping through his veins, the post didn't exactly help with his current predicament.

he knew he needed to shower, to go back home and see his family, to stuff his face with all the food he could imagine in hopes of one day being able to silence the ravenous hunger, but after reading the post, he didn't know if he could take a shower without his member getting hard at the thought of MC doing him there too.

to be pressed up against the wall with his hands bracing his weight, the feeling of lips leaving evidence of their activities and lingering on the spot that drew out all sorts of uncharacteristic noises from the demon for a beat too long, the rough yet gentle touch of the human, all the thoughts swirled around in beelzebub's mind and it overpowered his insatiable hunger.

BELPHEGOR !

he had just woken up from the perfect after school nap with nothing to do, MC wasn't around and beelzebub was most likely in the kitchen emptying out the fridge. all homework that needed to be completed was filled out, it wasn't his turn to make dinner and he had already finished all of his chores. with nothing better to do, belphegor slid his phone out from where it was tucked underneath his pillow and scrolled through devilgram with no real goal in mind.

all the posts that flooded his feed were of fellow RAD students he couldn't have been bothered to remember and random promotional shots of RAD from the student council account that he felt the sleepiness creep back into his mind. just as he was about to shut off his phone and continue his nap, a flash of MCs name caught his eye and he scrolled back up to the post.

it was a relatively long post and belphegor mentally groaned, not in the mood to read something so lengthy, but he caught a glimpse of a few rather enticing words along with the human's name thrown in between and he was suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to read the entire thing.

the way the author had detailed how MC fell victim to late night wood and couldn't sleep it off no matter how many times he tried while cuddling the demon, resulting in him rutting in between belphegor's thighs until the demon stirred awake had him squirming underneath his blanket.

with the help of his sleep addled mind, he could feel the ghost of MCs touch on his skin and he had to suppress the whine that wanted to crawl out of his throat. his eyes continued to skim through the fat chunk of text, swallowing thickly when he read about how the human sucked on his neck to muffle the sound of his own groans, leaving marks in his wake.

belphegor could hardly finish reading the post due to the onslaught of vivid scenarios of MC being all over him and feeling him up in his sleep, to which he felt his half hard dick twitch in his sweats. content with the train of thought his mind was heading in, the demon shut his phone off with the perfect dream to indulge himself in.

SIMEON !

all he was looking for was a new recipe and yet somehow, he found himself entranced with the filthy, sinful words. simeon was by no means the perfect angel, he had done his fair share of dirty deeds in his time but nothing quite enough to make him fall like his former brothers.

temptation was, naturally, an angel's worst enemy and simeon was known to flout the rules every now and then, and this was of no exception. the words on his D.D.D. were familiar yet strewn in a way that was foreign to the angel. it wasn't as though he was completely ignorant of such activities, but his status as an angel certainly meant that he had limited understanding of it outside of reproduction purposes.

so when this post suddenly showed up on his feed, as an author himself, how could he pass up the opportunity to read such a miracle?

the writer described MC in such a way that left simeon feeling flustered, with how this written version of him became so pliable, like putty in the human's hands. he didn't consider himself submissive, but rather something in between. however, there was something about MC praising him for doing well that made the angel think corrupting himself for the human wasn't all too bad of an idea.

he particularly enjoyed the way the writer entailed that MC was gentle and didn't limit himself when it came to praises while he caressed simeon's body, worshipping his body like it deserved. the angel could practically hear the breathy whisper of his name on the tip of the human's tongue, could see the satisfaction on his face whenever simeon couldn't hold back a noise from how good the human was making him feel.

well, as long as he didn't actually act out what was written, he wasn't breaking any rules, now was he? then, it wouldn't hurt to indulge in a few more similar works, right?

© 2023 TEARS0FSATAN. please don’t translate, modify, repost or plagiarise my works anywhere.

[johnslittlespoon]

So, I've reread TAS about 6 times, maybe. With every read through, the story somehow gets better. Anyway, I gotta know: when Gale chooses the horror movie before their first kiss, did he do it with the intention of scaring John into his arms? I remember that cliché from media growing up. The guy choosing the scary movie so that he can wrap his arms around the pretty girl.

You write Gale really well, and he's doing the whole "we're taking this at your pace" thing. So I want to know if the scary movie was a calculated decision.

Also, thank you SO MUCH for writing this story; it is my current obsession.

okay gonna get into some TAS gale pov asks bc i have a few >:) but SIX TIMES???? i will literally never ever be able to wrap my head around anyone rereading my stuff, it’s so mind boggling and it makes me a little (a lot) teary wtf :’)) <33 that’s actually insane LMAO thank u this is so so sweet 😭💗 ok buckle in bc i had a lot to say oops

tbh i definitely had that cliche in mind while writing it, like as soon as i decided they’d be watching a horror movie, i knew they’d have the cliche ‘hold me i’m scared’ moment, because it would be a good way to ease into the first kiss. however i don’t think it was fully intentional on gale’s end, because really, i think gale would’ve been happy to sit through like a three hour documentary if that’s what john had wanted lol.

so i don’t think he was swaying john one way or another, but he definitely had zero complaints about having an excuse to hold john when he got scared ;) and obv at that point, gale’s not dumb (and john is not subtle lmfao), so gale was probably 99.9% certain john had feelings for him, and he was giving john every opportunity to do something about that, since gale was so stubborn about giving john space to figure things out for himself and make the first move. :)

another rereader i cryyyy <333 thank you, would also run thru a brick wall for u 😭💖 YES gale’s pov very much interests me, i’ve got a whole section for it in what i call my TAS masterdoc lmfaoo. i have a stupid amount of oneshot ideas now in his/other character’s povs that i’d love to get to at some point!

but also hey ouch thanks for hurting my heart <3 😭 i do feel like there were probably a few “oh no” moments for gale after meeting john, like the classic ‘i’m fucked’ realizations, and i think seeing him smile properly for the first time would be one of those. john’s so caught up in his own head half the time that he probably didn’t notice the way gale stopped breathing the first time he was on the receiving end of his sunshine smile :’)

i genuinely think gale’s internal monologue during that moment would just be ‘fuckfuckfuckfuck’ because really, what else can he do but fall head over heels? i’m sooo excited to dig into gale’s pov eventually, to get into how much he wrestled with himself and how he’d told himself never again after losing johnny, and then in walks this gangly, sweet, loud–mouthed college kid, and gale’s never been so happy to have his life turned upside down.

(john and gale actually do have a little bit of a conversation about this in ch11 because i couldn’t resist, but until that’s up, i leave you with the assurance that gale was smitten from day one and just trying to repress it for a multitude of reasons, but then the incident happened where gale saved him from the blind date, and it was all over from that moment on. the urge to protect john and to keep a smile on his face hasn’t left gale since that moment <3)

LOLL. definitely an admonishing “gaaaaale” moment. 

i’ve had so many questions in AO3 comments asking if i’ll write gale’s pov of the conversation he has with marge, and i 100% want to, it’s the first gale pov oneshot (aside from the smut i posted lol) i’m planning on writing for this fic. i’ll try to answer some of those other questions here just to keep them in one place:

i think marge definitely had her suspicions about gale’s feelings for john — she knows gale too well to not know when something’s up, but she also knows that gale comes to her about things on his own time, that she just has to be patient, it’s how he’s always been since they were kids. but there’s no way she wasn’t squinting at gale when she found out john had spent the weekend (multiple times) at his house.

the first time is one thing, because when gale explains that john had gotten wayyy too drunk and seemingly had some situation he didn’t want to go home to, she’d understand gale letting him crash at his. she sees how gale is with john at the beach after that, and it probably gets the wheels turning in her head, but she also knows gale to have a big heart and to be prone to taking strays in, so it could just be written off.

when she finds out that john’s been staying at gale’s every weekend after the incident with his mom, at the very least she had to have asked him who takes the couch just to watch gale squirm, which then confirmed her suspicions lol. after that it’s only a matter of time before gale spills it all to her, and her reaction will eventually be detailed in one of those gale pov oneshots :-) 

[prince-liest]

Ok so I know you haven't officially trans anyone's gender in any of your Hazbin fics, but I lowkey get really trans vibes from Alastor in most of your fics?

Idk, it's a little hard go explain but what really tipped me off was his... distaste? Disfavor? Aversion? To his "male body" in one of the 666 fics. (I think the line was something akin to "the male body being what it is" in reference to Alastor getting hard fairly quickly).

There's honestly a lot of interesting things to speculate in relation to how Alastor views his body. Especially with his relationship with touch, and how he initiates touch and how he actively dislikes it (depending on the person).

Not to mention his feelings regarding his non-human features. How he doesn't inherently dislike them for being what they are, or rather, that they're "abnormal", but more so that they're not what they're "supposed to be", and not "what he was before" (though I do think that his dislike of his deer features is linked to his dislike of how he died, being viewed as something so easy to be put down - an animal).

Which also relates to how dressed Alastor constantly is. How he shields away his body using clothing, a customizable thing that he takes great pride in making sure is up to his standards (notice how when his coat is damaged he immediately goes to get it fixed, even though the ends of his coat is already damaged. He seems to have very complex opinions on how, exactly, his coat is supposed to be damaged)

I do think that Alastor's preference to being so dressed is linked to his dislike of vulnerability, but I also think it's a very trans(tm) move, lol.

(And I also do think that his dislike of vulnerability is tied to his transness, kinda in a weird "chicken and egg" scenario.)

I find it really interesting how Alastor's true feelings are revealed by his shadow, a being that can transform to look different, is mostly hidden, and is internally mysterious. Idk, it's just very trans(tm) to me!

I also think that Alastor's transness is linked to how he views masculinity, how he seems to automatically like woman, while automatically disliking man. How this is also tied to his parents. I've noticed in your fics (and could be completely wrong about) that Alastor seems to relate femininity (and his mother) with "safety" (how he compares the gentle touch in your last fic with feeling like his mother and his like of jambalaya).

I'm not sure if I would say that Alastor is a trans woman, but I also wouldn't say he isn't. Overall I think he has a very complex view of gender, but it's definitely something he doesn't put a lot into. Which relates to him not knowing what asexuality is.

I have a lot more Alastor trans thoughts, but this ask is already getting pretty long so I'm just gonna cut it off here. I hope I made sense, and that you're comfortable with me speculating on a character you've written about gender. (Totally valid if you're not though! If so, then please disregard this ask!)

I'll take "asks that made me realize I'm out here accidentally writing a character as nonbinary" for 300, please! Please prepare yourself for the mistake of letting me have a keyboard and talk about gender after 9pm, so sorry to literally everybody else.

You're gonna get a real fuckin' kick out of the first bit of the next 666 that I'm gonna post tomorrow. ;) It's definitely the point where I finally acknowledged to myself that I have a strong urge to inject some genderfuckery into Alastor in the form of him continuing to use his thing with Vox to explore his own relationship with, like, existing in his own body, and then also threw those feelings all over Angel Dust like a fistful of glitter while I was at it.

Like you said, I wouldn't say that I've ended up writing him as a trans woman, but I think I have seen him from the start as a character who is not exactly cis in a wibbly-wobbly way I have not previously defined but that I think I would perhaps characterize as "gender: monster condescending to play at humanity."

I don't think he eschews masculinity entirely, for what it's worth. He definitely strikes me as a person who aligns himself with the image of a smiling gentleman (if a hellish one) as the proper way for a person like him to be, and for whom that is an important, comfortable, and satisfying part of both his identity and how he relates to both his female friends and to men. However, he also strikes me as someone for whom that part of his identity is what he shows the world on purpose, presented as he would like it to be seen, rather than as something that reflects his bodily preferences. To put it another way, if he'd been AFAB, I think he would put just as much into his presentation, just in the direction of femininity, and it wouldn't make him any more or less comfortable with himself.

You're right in that I've definitely written him with a faint distaste for the mundane physical reality of his body, and a lot of this comes through in how he alternates between short moments of fascination with what new things his body is doing as he explores it and decides whether or not he likes it, and his much longer moments of utter disregard for the same thing. It also extends to the rest of his mundane humanity, though: his physical limits, his adrenaline-rush of fear, etc. He values the coat, the cane, the reality-bending static, the smile - but whatever he sees in the mirror when he gets undressed or whatever doesn't function to his purposes, he can take or leave.

I see Alastor as someone who defines himself first and foremost as the radio demon: not a person, but a monster and an enigma. A voice and a personality. Everything else is more or less incidental, and he would prefer to keep it set aside, thank you. The occasional dysphoria isn't just about his sex, it's about the humanity of his body as a whole.

[angelus-scripturae]

Heyy! Could you do headcannons for the boys with a partner that is a very well known youtuber/streamer? Thank youuuu! <3 (also I'm Dyslexic so sorry for any spelling mistakes!)

Of course! I actually wanted to write something like this soon so thank you for giving me a reason to!

Also i’m dyslexic too i very heavily rely on autocorrect lol :))

ALSO IM SORRY ABOUT MY PROLONGED ABSENCE ONE OF THE PEOPLE HERE WHO HELPED LEFT SO IM TRYNA LEARN TO WRITE SMUT SO I CAN KEEP GOONG WITH IT AND NOW ONE OF MY IRL FRIENDS IS HERE (sorry mate) PLEASE BARE WITH MEZ

The Boys headcannons for an influencer!reader.

Pairings: EddieVR x Reader, juicyfruitsnacks x reader, joshdub x reader, sleepymully x reader, YourNarrator x reader.

Warnings: Bad language, mentions of guns/ robbery, shitty writing.

Eddie

I feel like you would be a paranormal investigation channel in this case

Or a channel that does scary short films/ skits

You upload your clips from streams and videos onto tiktok and other social media

One time when doing a “Worlds scariest tiktoks?” video, someone had sent in one of your videos for him to react to

He found it so scary that he reached out to you.

He asked for you to help him and the boys at some haunted places and you two just began to bond and become close.

One night he invited you out to ‘record’ with him and the boys but when you arrived, he was there with a hand made poster.

Almost like a promposal

At first, you started laughing out of confusion but when you realised it was serious you immediately said yes to dating him.

Fans had notice how close you two had gotten (even more than before) and started theorising.

Eventually, you told them after having a talk about where you wanted the relationship to go

Once everyone knew, the edits and posts talking about the two of you flooded in.

You both loved how sweet everyone was

Of course you both got hate from fans as does every internet-open relationship between two well loved people

However, all that matters is the two of you.

You help each other when the hate gets a bit extreme with love and breaks from socials

Eventually after a few years, Eddie takes you out to ‘record’ once again

However, when you get to the studio you were due to record at, there’s a small table with a candle in the middle

You turn around to ask Eddie what was going on, you saw him on one knee with a small, black, velvet box in hand

It seemed like a cheesy and cliché situation but as he asked you to marry him, you barely let him finish before saying yes.

Let’s just say fans went crazy finding this out

Narrator

You probably know what I’m gonna say

You’re a VR voice actor channel.

like the ones that troll people in vr with different voices

or just a normal va channel but we’re going with VR rn

He was recording with the boys when he started with his deep voice in a sort of fake-flirting situation

You gave it right back ofc

He was startled at first but then you set up a hole storyline and his fans loved it.

At the time, you hadn’t known who he was

but your comments did

they urged to to do more with him and so you reached out

you made more and more content together to the point the fans shipped you to the moon and back

you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer

so one day in a call with him you asked him out.

He said yes almost immediately

then backtracked and tried to act “cool” about it

that made you giggle

so you began dating and the fans could tell

Narrator became so much more bashful and touchy around you

especially in person

Although they new for sure when he proposed in a video where you all went to disney land and they loved it

so did you

You started crying

I feel like you were at the wishing well thing and you said something like

“i wish to marry my best friend” or smth as a joke

then you turned around and he was on one knee

The amount of edits with sappy songs in the background…

thousands

Juicy

You’re a streamer in this case

You were playing your favourite game on stream

it just so happened to be juicy’s favorite as well

Let’s say the boys were doing a “if you laugh you donate”

Juicy laughed and chose you to donate to

Then got hyped when he saw the game

Had to donate like $100

you got fucking hype at the money amount

You also sort of knew who he was so you freaked out that too

let’s time skip to after you ended stream

you checked your phone to find a twitter notif from him asking to record with you sometime

You obviously instantly accepted duh

so you did

you knew you liked him but never once thought he felt the same i mean it was just professional right?

WRONG

he was head over heels for you

always finding ways to be close to you or talk to you

Always trying to make you laugh

I mean always

makes him happy y’know

when he asked you out, he was half asleep on a discord call and just blurted it out

You said yes but had to remind him in the morning

He then got bummed out about not being able to say it extravagantly

accepted it none the less

Mully

You were dating wayyyy before you began youtube

Usually playing horror games or watching scary animations

However you weren’t very public

the fans only found you when you posted your engagement tweet. ikr

they went insane over it and bombarded you both with questions

“when’s the wedding?”

“how long have you been together?”

And the obvious jokes

a few people were upset you kept it from them but it’s your life innit lol

You can keep whatever you want from them

You even posted a vlog with him planning your wedding.

The fans had no clue when it was but waited semi-patiently

WENT INSANE when you dropped the date

on the day, you posted on insta with all the cute photos of you two kissing and having fun

but had a VERY cursed caption

he however posted cursed videos like you drunk after the reception or

any of the boys doing dumb shit

but had one of the sweetest captions you’ve ever seen

when the full video of the wedding dropped there were HUNDREDS of edits made

almost brought a tear to your eye :,(

Josh

G-mod

You met in G-mod

now I think i could stop it there but i’ll go into detail

you were kinda fuckin around and you were pretending to be a receptionist

when juicy and reekid came in doing their usual shenanigans trying to rob you

the audacity

You switched it onto them ofc

and it made amazing content so he asked for your discord

you didn’t talk for a few weeks before you got a video recommended to you saying

“Psycho receptionist pulled a gun on me!”

You watched it and soon realise it was what you had done

You sent him a message along the lines of

“Psycho? i though i was pretty tame.”

He then sent you a message apologising and offering to change the title

you then pointed out the fact you were joking and he went back to usual josh

Then asked you to join him and Eddie for a scary discord video

you agreed and had a blast

I mean of course you did with your effortless humour

through that you gained quite a large following on your main channels

you continued to record with josh but also focused on your own channels too

after about half a year he confessed to you

i’m the middle of recording a G-mid video

at first you thought it was a bit

when you realised it was serious you instantly agreed.

you let the relationship move quite slow

and the fans loved you both together when you became public on your one year anniversary (with a tweet)

though many people pressured you to tell them if you had plans for marriage

your answer was always the same

“we’ll see how it goes.”

Hi lovelies! sorry for such a long absence life is fucking me over recently and I’m hoping you’re not too mad for the absence

also thank yous for 75 followers <33333